Writings about growing old carry weight by Bob Karolevitz I don�t like to repeat stuff that comes off the Internet because lots of folks have read it before � but the anonymous poem (obviously by and about women) caused me to change my mind.
I don�t know who wrote it, but Phyllis says it�s all too true, and being a dutiful husband, I agreed. It goes:
When I was in my younger
days,
I weighed a few pounds
less;
I didn�t hold my tummy in
To wear a belted dress.
But now that I am older,
I have set my body free.
There�s comfort of elastic
Where once my waist would be.
Inventor of those high-
heeled shoes,
My feet have not forgiven.
I wear a size nine now; but
I used to wear a seven.
And how about those panty
hose?
They�re made to fit to
please.
So how come when I put
them on,
The crotch is at my knees?
I need to wear these glasses
cuz
The print is getting smaller
And wasn�t it just months ago
That I was one inch taller?
Though hair has turned to
silver and
My skin�s in need of care,
I�m still the same old me
inside;
The outside shows the
wear.
Of course, men don�t have a problem with age, although I�ve noticed that some guys need longer arms to read with, and they have to take an inch or two off their trousers to keep them from dragging on the ground.
The shrinkage isn�t noticeable around the middle, however!
We now have pills for what we once did naturally. The manufacturers of hearing-aid batteries seem to be making bundles, and the medical clinic is a good place to meet everybody of similar vintage.
But by and large (weight not intended) the old folks are shuffling along, and we are grists for the mill of Internet poets like the author of the one above, whoever she may be. At least we are good for something!
� 2003 Robert F. Karolevitz
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