I’m 84, Now

After thinking about what to write in the BLOG, this week, I discarded many topics.  Shall I write about our Nation’s Independence?  Shall I write about the assault that is happening to my country?  Is that too political?  And I promised – no politics.  As a character in one of my favorite Hallmark movies (Rip in Time) says, “When we fought for our independence, it was really just a theory – democracy; at the time, it seemed like a grand experiment — we didn’t know if we would survive . . . as a people . . . as a country.”

Are we still in that “grand experiment?”  Is it under attack in an attempt to make it fail?  If we believe in the grand experiment, don’t we need to continue to fight for it?  Apparently, fighting for it is still needed.  What can you and I do?  What are you and I willing to do to keep our grand experiment – our country – in one piece?

I will be eighty-four on July 2.  So, eighty-four years ago in 1938, I was born in some house or apartment in Canon City, Colorado.  I am an 84-year-old Colorado Native.  I don’t really know how many Colorado Natives of my age are still living in Colorado.

It is possible that cold temperatures, snow, and ice have convinced them that they have just had enough.  And, they move to warmer climes.  They leave the beauty of the state; if they are lucky, they find it in their new chosen area.

Then, I thought – eighty-four years.  That deserves a poem.  So, here it is.  It will be published in the Denver Gem and Mineral Guild’s Tips and Chips newsletter for July.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m 84, Now
by
Marj Becker

At the end of
This week,
I’ll be eighty-four
Years old.

Eighty-four –
Who would have thought
It possible?
Me – eighty-four!

I saw men
Walk on the moon.
I see electric cars.
I cook with a microwave.

My mother had five daughters.
Three had one husband.
Two had two husbands.
Of the twelve of us, two are left.

We talk every day.
Sometimes about important things.
Sometimes, not.
But, every day.

I had three daughters.
Two are living.
The death of one’s child
Is hard to live through.

Two grandchildren live
In Wisconsin with their folks.
“Smart as a whip,” both of them.
Students – high school and college.

Seasons come and seasons go.
I wonder what this year eighty-four will bring.
I’ll give thanks for the good things
And know there will be others, not so good.

I’m a Native, you know.
Colorado Native.
If you’re not born here,
You’re not a Native.

I think about my eighty-four years.
What have I done right?  And, not so right?
Will there be an accounting?
I wonder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Be Safe and Be Well

The Cranky Crone

Thoughtful comments are appreciated.