I dislike reading or hearing people talking about 'THE PROBLEMS OF THE AGED' . We aged do not have problems, other people have problems because, unlike us, they have not experienced life as long as we have.
For example, when I last consulted my friendly, capable and well qualified young doctor (he's about 50) I did not realise it was Diabetes Awareness Week. But he did, and he sent me for a blood test. Later that week his nurse rang. My blood sugar was high, could I please come in? Now the 'normal' range for blood sugar is from 4 -8 mils. Mine is 6.2, so I do not agree that it is high. However I accepted the literature about diet and exercise, down loaded the diet and exercise plan. It was sensible, very little different to my own regime, so I followed it. Apart from a torn ligament in the walking programme, I am feeling better, there is less of me, so I shall keep following directions, BUT I STILL DO NOT AGREE THAT I AM DIABETIC .
Us 'oldies' are still functioning, achieving and contributing. Last October I had ten lovely days in Ireland then popped over to Liverpool for my on line poetry group's reunion where I read from my latest 'slim volume', OVER AND OUT FROM DOWN UNDER.
Next June I plan to live in Crete for four months.
So where's the problem?
Anyway, here's a poem from "Over and Out From Down Under". Happy New Year!
All day caravans and cars
will drive through our gate and
make a circle round the green
like a wagon train in a western.
Awnings will spread, children will scatter
to take up games laid down last summer.
Except Jason and Dulcie
Who will stroll to the beach because
now they are fifteen; he has begun shaving
and her breasts are budding.
We will spread trestles under
the oak tree for drinks
and salads and things ladies bring on plates,
not forgetting sausages and steaks
and fillets of salmon wrapped in foil.
Fred's new barbecue has a grill
and hotplates, rotisserie and
an oven for warming bread.
Men will gather to admire but
they remember bonfires on beaches
and sausages on sticks.
"Has anyone seen Dulcie?" her mother will ask.
At ten o'clock, Alice and Bert will tune their guitars
Mothers will send children to wash their hands.
"Where the hell is bloody Jason?" his father will snarl.
At midnight we will sing "Auld Lang Syne"
and toast the New Year, absent friends,
whitebait , salmon and sea-run trout.
Anglers from the next camp will come
first footing and when there are
no more bottles or cans we will
make tea to toast the dawn.
Jason and Dulcie will stroll back
from the beach, last night's stars
still bright in their eyes.