Writer's Pantry # 93 and I indulge in a small pity party, most likely the result of a series of four gloomy, chilly, rainy days. I'm ordinarily not one for pity parties, but one seemed to present itself this morning. Submitted to Poets and Storytellers United, October 28, 2021
***********
"The moving finger writes, and having writ moves on, nor all thy piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all they tears wash out a word of it", ~Omar Khayyam
***********s
LIFE LESSONS
Time teaches humility … and reality
in gradually insidious painful lessons
So much to be learned as we progress through life
I thought I’d always be a capable multitasker.
Though I can still drive .. I cannot lift my walker
into the car, so where will I go? and what will I do
after I get there?
I loved grocery shopping, and reading the
gossip sheets while I stood in line
Now I order my groceries on line,,,
and have them delivered.
We used to be a monthly eight for lunch,
dear friends and I. Now we are two,
...and can’t get there.without help.
Monthly art meetings were a source of inspiration.
No meetings now, and art projects grow fewer and fewer.
I always prided myself on being positive
Now positivity is a chore... and frequent façade
Criteria for planning outings: Are there stairs?
Is parking close? Is seating immediate? Is the
restroom easily available!
Adjustments to be made, and blessings to
be counted…and I find there are still plenty
of those.
Time to enjoy the beauty around me. Time
to observe lives of those I hold dear, and
let them know they are loved.
Time to be revered.
The first stanza hit me like a truck. Then the ones that followed kept on turning around to run me over. I wish I could say that I don't understand where you are coming from. But I do. I, too, have lost too many battles against what I can no longer do. I've lost driving, eating out, living with pets... When I plan any trip, I need to find out where all the toilets are before I get there. Having new visitors in my house is a bit of a chore because not everyone feels comfortable having to shower, disinfecting, and change clothes before interacting with their host.
ReplyDeleteSometimes we need to let the outrage and frustration out. When my days are particularly difficult, I tell my Piano Man, my Boy, or my best friend that I'm feeling miserable. Sometimes I tell friends on social media and on P&SU, ask them to cheer me up. It's good to let these feelings out every now and again.
So, in a way, this is not a pity party, but a bit of venting. And what are friends for if you can't vent with them. So, my dear Bev, let it rip! I am here for you.
You are loved and revered and respected. Magaly is correct, this is not a pity party but an affirmation of life lived well.
ReplyDeleteI think there is not enough honest talk about Waging Aging the Soul's Way or the grief and loss associated with it. My poetry is a lot of that. No one wants to talk about it realistically and with an honoring Dark is deep and it takes a choice to go there. Thanks for this.
ReplyDeleteI agree with the above comments. Not so much a pity party as a wryly honest self-assessment, culminating in the wisdom of acceptance and finding the blessings there still are. I identify strongly. My arthritic hip has not yet caused me to use a wheely-walker, but it has been suggested by my physiotherapist as a future option. I too can still drive ... and I recall wrestling with my late husband Andrew's walker, getting the damn thing in and out of the car. And I no longer attend the local cinema because of all the stairs. (Thank heaven for smart TV with Netflix etc.) You haven't lost your dignity, though; this poem is full of it. And I can only add, thank goodness for our writing, and for our online communities!
ReplyDeleteNo, this is not a pity party, this is, as Rosemary said, an honest self-assessment. Because you understand yourself.
ReplyDeletei think it takes courage to write about all these, these inconveniences, these changes to living. And you still take time to enjoy the beauty around you. and that's good.
Beverly is a fighter is what I read here. Sure, you accept reality but the beauty is within as you recognize there is life and love and beauty to be, as you say, revered.
ReplyDeleteIt's good to think about these things, even when being 50 feels better than being 25 used to feel. One major mistake one of my elders made recently: assuming that the longevity gene would guarantee good health and employability, so she'd be able to earn more money and pay off a reverse mortgage...she wasn't. Better to plan around having to live with disabilities. So I thank you for reminding everyone to savor times of good health and plan for times that may be different, and I hope you can find a way to rebuild the strength to walk through your everyday life.
ReplyDeleteI find your poem so powerful in its honest and open sharing of struggles we face as our bodies age or fail us due to illness. I agree with every comment here, yours is not a pity party but of courage to speak frankly. Thanks goodness indeed, for our online communities. And many thanks to you, Bev.
ReplyDeletedon't feel bad about feeling about feeling bad, it happens. bev, i want you to know how much i appreciate you, i love reading your poems, they are always a delight, and i so enjoy reading your comments on mine. you hang in there, and know that you are not alone, we are with you =)
ReplyDeleteAh yes seasons and changes in nature. And we are part of nature. Thank God for the technology.
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday Bev
Much💜love