I sat on the floor next to Mum the night before she passed away, holding her hand and read her this poem/limerick, afterwards she smiled and said “that was lovely” . I know that was the last time I will see you smile Mum but it will be with me forever whenever I think of you and wherever I am ❤️
Here follows the poem.
Note from a 70-year old:
To those who ask:
I’m Fine Thanks
There is nothing the matter with me,
I’m as healthy as I can be,
I have arthritis in both my knees,
And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze.
My pulse is weak, and my blood is thin,
But I’m awfully good for the shape I‘m in.
Arch supports I have for my feet,
Or I wouldn’t be able to be on the street,
Sleep is denied me every night,
But every morning I feel alright;
My memory is failing, my head’s in a spin,
But I’m awfully well for the shape I’m in.
The moral is this, as this tale I unfold,
That for you and for me who are growing old,
It’s better to say “I’m fine” with a grin,
Than to let folks know the shape we are in.
How do I know that my youth is all spent?
Well, my get up and go, has got up and went!
But I really don’t mind when I think with a grin,
Of all the great places my get up has been;
Old age is golden I have heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder as I get into bed,
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table when I wake up;
Ere sleep comes to me, I say to myself,
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?
When I was younger my slippers were red,
I could kick my heels right over my head;
When I grew older my slippers were blue,
But still I could dance the whole night through;
Now I’m old, my slippers are black,
I walk to the store and puff my way back.
I get up each morning and dust off my wits,
Pick up the paper and read the obits.
If my name is still missing, I know I’m not dead,
So, I get a good breakfast and go back to bed.
Chris/ Claire
31st December 2021
