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Here are some short stories written by some of our visitors:
My first contact with infinity
was as a child twisting the loose spiral pillar
of our old glass fronted bookcase.
In response to my own two small hands
it appeared to emerge or withdraw as it revolved
in the seeming solid oak base
with a soft and celestial squeek
phenomenon, preoccupying me for hours.
And now in pleasant memories,
still nurturing a thoughtful wonder
in an older adult who thinks he understands,
at least, optical illusion;
still continuing to be engrossed
as life's ongoing, common mysteries unfold.
my hands now quiet in my lap,
my thoughts still cycling with awe.
This was written by an 83-year old woman to her friend:
I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting in the yard and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time working. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experiences to savor, not to endure. I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them. I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, or the first Amaryllis blossom. I wear my good blazer to the market. My theory is if I look prosperous. I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties, but wearing it for clerks in the hardware store and tellers at the bank. "Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I'm not sure what others would've done had they known that they wouldn't be here for the tomorrow that we all take for granted. I think they would have called family members and a few close friends. They might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think they would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, or for whatever their favorite food was. I'm guessing; I'll never know. It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew my hours were limited. Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and parents often enough how much I truly love them. I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is a gift.
"People say true friends must always hold hands, but true friends don't need to hold hands because they know the other hand will always be there." I don't believe in miracles. I rely on them. Hello Friends.
Check out the following website: www.geocities.com/nutyscribe/ It features original recollections, short stories, musings, and poetry written by 28 authors, all of whom are also seniors.
My Poetry Garden: www.heartwarmers4u.com/members/?laryalee
I'm a granny who writes "old-fashioned" rhyme, and this is a quiet, easy-loading site. My themes include nature, coping with life's ups and down, a sprinkle of humor, and hopefully a dash of inspiration!
I do hope you'll drop in for a visit!
Do have a column that
you'd like to write or an idea for Canadian Senior Years? E-mail us: firstname.lastname@example.org