Folks, now and then I hear someone talk about things yet on their bucket list. So, I ask myself, do I have a bucket list? I guess I don’t at this ripe old age.
Folks, now and then I hear someone talk about things yet on their bucket list. So, I ask myself, do I have a bucket list? I guess I don’t at this ripe old age.
I am told a bucket list can be a number of experiences or achievements that a person hopes to have or accomplish during their lifetime.
As I have said before, I have already had far more experiences than I ever dreamed possible.
I will admit at this advanced age, at times I feel I am on a journey I haven’t packed for yet. One day I was young and now I am not.
Do I have regrets? Maybe a few. I tried to live such, so I wouldn’t have many of those.
I do wish I had learned to do ballroom dancing! Are you laughing?
Seriously, I think I could have been quite good. I can even now see myself swirling and dipping while wearing a beautiful long, full, frilly dress and very high heel shoes.
One time, my little auntie told me, my parents were the best Waltzers in the county when they were young.
I can barely remember them having dances in our home. Push back the furniture, roll up the rugs and invite friends and neighbors to join in
Ṫhen, they got busy living life and running the farm and raising a family. And, here I am living at the retirement village and rejoicing that I can still get one foot in front of the other, with the help of a walker.
Guess there will be no dancing for me today or tomorrow.
In spite of some limitations life puts on one as they get older, there can still be contentment and things to look forward to.
Every night at eight-thirty, I look forward to face time with my daughter. I look forward to my son’s frequent visits, bringing often times my milk and a couple of other items I need.
Yet, he also brings a sack full of surprises. Oh boy, chocolate covered peanuts and raisin bread and other goodies.
I look forward to texts from the grandkids and pictures of those great grandchildren.
I look forward to my daily walks here at the retirement village, as I stroll among the roses while they are strutting their stuff.
I look forward to sitting on the west patio after dark and gazing at the stars in the night sky.
I look forward to my cup of tea and a cookie in mid-afternoon.
Well, I could go on and on about looking forward. No looking back. Not going that way.
Heard this. Sometimes we just have to accept what is and decide to move on with faith and joy and contentment.
Two dear old widows were having this conversation, about men being in short supply. Then, two dear old gentlemen invited them on a walk, to see the gardenia bushes with their lavish and fragrant blossoms.
The ladies later admitted to each other in their widowed and lonely state, if those two men had asked them to go see a ditch full of poison ivy, they would have accepted gladly.
Whoopee-doo!