When I'm a 90 Year Old Grandma

Many of you know my grandma Dorothy....GG to the kids. She turned 90 this year, though most people would have no idea she's any older than 70! In my family of redheads, hers is still red, and she has the redhead temperament to go with it. She is still completely independent, bosses everyone around, and her idea of heaven is hanging out with the great-grandkids!

When I'm a 90 year old grandma, I'd like to be like her....

About a month ago, Grandma fell at home and injured her hand. At the time, the x-ray didn't show any broken bones, but when it was rechecked later, the x-ray showed it was indeed broken. But when Grandma was told she needed to have a cast put on, she just didn't have time for that! She informed the doctor that she had a very important pinochle game that afternoon, it was the last game of the season, and she was not going to miss it! So the cast would have to wait! So the bewildered doctor asked if her game would be over by late afternoon so that she could squeeze in some time to get the cast on. Well the game apparently was quite intense, so she had to call the doctor later in the afternoon and said he'd have to again reschedule that cast. And then her schedule was too busy the next day too. So by the time she could finally "pencil it in," she decided that her hand didn't really hurt that bad, and living with a cast was going to cause a lot of problems for her. So she called the doctor and said she didn't want the cast. The important things, Grandma said, was playing pinochle and working jigsaw puzzles, and since she was able to do those things just fine, she didn't need any old cast.

Later, when my mom asked her why she even goes to the doctor if she's not going to do what he says, she replied, "You're right, I think I'll just stop going to the doctor!"

YOU ROCK, GRANDMA!

Warning

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

with a red hat which doesn't go and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

and satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

and run my stick along the public railings

and make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

and pick the flowers in other people's gardens

and learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

and eat three pounds of sausages at a go

or only bread and pickle for a week

and hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

and pay our rent and not swear in the street

and set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

when suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

~by Jenny Joseph