Growing old

Lying on the roof with the face of the moon reflecting a horizon of white, I felt my existence shake me. A plane sliced through and I imagined myself on that plane, 50 years older, retired and taking a flight home from a friend's funeral. (Yes, my imaginations take me places), but then I imagined growing old, and how I would face that dissoluting chapter of my life... I was then reminded of a George Carlin joke about old age. :)

When I grow old, if I'm bored sitting at the park, I would pretend to have amnesia and be all like "What are you people doing in my bathub??!" looking confused and surprised, while screaming at the parents and their innocent children; priceless reaction on their faces. Or while shopping groceries, I'd call for the manager and with an apple in hand I'd complain that "this banana looks like an apple!". They can't get mad at me, they might even feel sorry. Definitely not intended to hurt or insult anyone, as the topic of amnesia is sensitive to some, but wouldn't that be a bright light to expect from growing old? :) We dread it so much that we've been blindsided by the fact that there are perks. You get a free pass to forget things, maybe even deliberately (depending on the circumstance), you get to make mistakes, laugh at people and be brutally frank or honestly sweet. You'll be free like a child with a full conscience and full knowledge (also depending on circumstance).

Circumstance... all we could do is just imagine and anticipate it with a loving smile. Might as well right?

The first paragraph is interesting. Have you considered writing a poem on the subject? I notice you have no poems at all & have been here for some time. Did you have poems and deleted them or just here to enjoy others' work. Either is OK, but it's a shame not to try your hand at it if you haven't already.

Thanks for the tone of compliment, Larry. Nope I haven't, but that would be interesting.

I haven't thought of posting my poems yet, because I don't believe I've ever written a finished one. Or have one that's finished but didn't manage to replicate what inside of me says.

I hear (insider leak) you have some great commenting/judging skills...is it true ABC? And the last time I looked at your age it was 99, did you drink amrit(or ambrosia) to become 23, or is your last sip wearing off?

Found a poem which may be an unfortunate reality for many of us to come but at the same time crack every one up:

My Rememberer

My forgetter's getting better
But my rememberer is broke
To you that may seem funny
But, to me, that is no joke.

For when I'm 'here' I'm wondering
If I really should be 'there'
And, when I try to think it through,
I haven't got a prayer!

Often times I walk into a room,
Say "what am I here for?"
I wrack my brain, but all in vain
A zero, is my score.
At times I put something away
Where it is safe, but, Gee!
The person it is safest from
Is, generally, me!

When shopping I may see someone,
Say "Hi" and have a chat,
Then, when the person walks away
I ask myself, "who was that?"

Yes, my forgetter's getting better
While my rememberer is broke,
And it's driving me plumb crazy
And that isn't any joke.

P.S. Send this to everyone you know . . . because I don't remember who sent it to me!

^^ hahaha. Sounds like something my uncle would have written. If I ask if this was him, would he remember to even know?

Yes, I used to be very honest and active in giving suggestions and criticisms on poetry, but I've changed a great deal since I've left. Not only did I find the fountain of youth, I think I found the canyon of my soul.