I’m Still the Same
The black pages of my scrapbook crumble away
Some pages are wrinkled.
My sweet grandmother once said
“It’s silly I’m so old.”
Many friends have passed away.
Just the other day, my high school flame.
My little brother died at 62—
He never complained
He just wanted his guitar in view
And a friend played it for him as he died.
My friend and I walked and talked with
misdiagnosed
at the hospital—she passed quickly into the blue.
Many friends and family gone.
As for me—it’s silly I’m so old.
I’m still the same
Just a little wrinkled.
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My uncle Don, whose wife died of multiple ailments in her 60s reached the ripe old age of 101 a few years ago when he finally was confined to a nursing hospital. My cousin, his son, told me that his favorite expression was, "Hey, nurse! Can you get me a bucket? I want to kick it." He kept his humor right up to the very end. The last conversation we had in person with his hearing aid turned all the way up was very cordial when he was 99. He even came out to see me start up my high-tech van, since he had a lifetime love for technology and gadgets. His son is carrying on that tradition at 75, recently learning how to fly and bought an airplane.
Ron
Liked this poem it was about getting old, but not giving into it.