Monday, May 7, 2012

When I am

When I am older, I will still feel same
Answer when someone calls my name
I'll still be silly and act like a loon
Dance in the starlight throwing kisses to the moon.

I'll carry my book and sit for a read
My knee I will offer to a tot in need
A golden oldie, I'll be till the end
And thank the dear Lord for family and friend.

When I am older, I'll say, "Job well done."
Then I'll sit by the window watching the passing of the sun
Nature will carry me on still the same
And then, too, I'll know when it calls my name.

When I am

I wonder how long it is until I need to add the 'er'. Today I spent a good part of the morning in the bookstore. I perused the shelves of the children's books looking for my favorite writers and illustrators. Don and Audrey Woods, David Weisner, Jan Brett, Mem Fox, Penny Dale. I could go on, but you get the point. I'm drawn to the artwork and the simple stories said so beautifully....sometimes even without words. I plan to get a book bag then each time I go to visit the newborns twins (once they get here) I will take a book or two. We need to start reading together early, you know.

The reality of when I am old  dawned on me while walking the bookstore, sitting on the floor revisiting "Flotsam", finding a beautiful new version of "The Lion and The Mouse". I am setting in place now the way my grandchildren will view me.....when Grammy is considered old. What do I want that vision to be?

My mother set down many a guideline for other mothers and memories for her many 'honorary' grandchildren. She wasn't afraid to act silly with the kids. Her house was theirs whenever they walked into the kitchen. She hung their pictures and sang songs to them. When she grew old, the music she had created in her lifetime was rich and full of memory.

My children are trying to help me grow up. I'm afraid it is impossible. When I am 'er' I will still carry my book bag. Perhaps a child will need to read one of our old favorites to me. I will sit quietly smiling as each word is read with a hand resting on my grandchild. I will hum to myself for the joy in my life. My children will shake their heads thinking I am at last losing it. I will sit smiling by the window and count the blessings of my life. Perhaps someone will ask me, "What's so funny, Grams?" Each line that now graces my face and the white of my hair reminds me of the precious time I have with my family, especially before I get to "er".

Yes, when I am, I will see the sunset and rise again.

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