Do not say that to me.
I fall asleep just like you
just not for all night.
Shades down, lids down,
on my eyes, and on the loo too.
Do not say that to me.
Words fail everyone.
Talk stumbles when stress does not
children crave repetition. Repetition
teaches that sink-in kind of learning.
Do not say that to me.
My feet walk through that park
across the street, just like yours.
Except you’re accompanied by two wheels
and one foot pushing that scooter thing.
The one I gave Johnny for his birthday,
I think. I push four wheels in front of me,
all by myself,
and sing merrily I roll along
in perfect pitch.
Do not say that to me.
I will not leave my home.
I am not a hermit crab
that leaves one house for another.
And I am not ready to molt.
Do not say that to me.
I am NOT getting old.
You are.
And I’m pretty sure God is too.
lillian the home poet 
Morning, Lillian –
As always, lovely thoughts wrapped within perfect words.
My mom is 79 and my dad – 84 (this July). They are amazing – still very active and vital. They are voracious readers and intellectuals. Both – well, my mom more so now – are physically active. She still plays tennis. They both bowl. They visited Ireland a few months ago. Now, they have their giant home for sale and hope to move closer to me soon. My mom was just saying if the house doesn’t sell – they’re staying put – lots of stairs, deep driveway, Pennsylvania winters… I shut my mouth – and remember – they’re still adults – their choices are their choices.
Happy Monday!
am:)
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79 and 84 — you are blessed. Yes….I think it’s the “turn” that becomes so difficult….you’re not there yet which is wonderful. Self-sufficient even in Pennsylvania winters. Good for them! Hardest day ever, for example, when my niece had to take away her dad’s car keys. He was of the generation that the car was his castle. This poem is just a little bit me….if truth be told. That voice that says “I am NOT getting old when the body creaks a little more each morning getting out of bed. But the key is, it gets out of bed! 🙂
Happy Monday indeed.
lillian
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You hit some very tender spots here, but with nice pacing and a bit of humor. I especially like the second stanza, but it all fits togethe so well!
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Thanks! “Tender spots”….good description for this kind of situation. My Aunt used to say “Growing old is not for sissies.” She swam every day into her 90s.
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Love that sissie comment! 🙂
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