Time, Age, & Wisdom

I received this from a very good friend just as I was going through a particularly bad time in my life. It cheered me.

Time, Age, & Wisdom

Age 5

I’ve learned that I like my teacher because she cries when we sing “Silent Night.”

Age 7 

I’ve learned that our dog doesn’t want to eat my broccoli either. 

Age 9 
I’ve learned that when I wave to people in the country, they stop what they are doing and wave back. 

Age 12  
I’ve learned that just when I get my room the way I like it, Mom makes me clean it up again. 

Age 14 
I’ve learned that if you want to cheer yourself up, you should try cheering someone else up.

Age 15 
I’ve learned that although it’s hard to admit it, I’m secretly glad my parents are strict with me. 

Age 24

I’ve learned that silent company is often more healing than words of advice.

 
Age 26

I’ve learned that brushing my child’s hair is one of life’s great pleasures.  

Age 29 
I’ve learned that wherever I go, the world’s worst drivers have followed me there. 

Age 30 
I’ve learned that if someone says something unkind about me, I must live so that no one will believe it.

 
Age 42 
I’ve learned that there are people who love you dearly but just don’t know how to show it.

 
Age 44 
I’ve learned that you can make someone’s day by simply sending them a little note

Age 46 
I’ve learned that the greater a person’s sense of guilt, the greater his or her need to cast blame on others.

 
Age 47
I’ve learned that children and grandparents are natural allies. 


Age 48 
I’ve learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on and it will be better tomorrow.

 
Age 49 

I’ve learned that singing “Amazing Grace” can lift my spirits for hours. 

Age 50 
I’ve learned that motel mattresses are better on the side away from the phone. 

 
Age 51 
I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a man by the way he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.

 
Age 52 
I’ve learned that keeping a vegetable garden is worth a medicine cabinet full of pills.

Age53

I’ve learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you miss them terribly after they die.

  
Age 58 

I’ve learned that making a living is not the same thing as making a life.

 
Age 62
I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

 
Age 64 
I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back. 


Age 65 
I’ve learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you. But if you focus on your family, the needs of others, your work, meeting new people, 
And doing the very best you can, happiness will find you.

 
Age 66 
I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with kindness, I usually make the right decision

 
Age 72 
I’ve learned that everyone can use a prayer.

 
Age 74 
I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one.

 
Age 76 
I’ve learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love that human touch – holding hands, a warm hug, 
Or just a friendly pat on the back.

  
Age 78 
I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn.

 
Age 80+ 
I’ve learned that life is what you make it, and your life is much better when you make someone happy. 

****** 

I’ve learned that you should pass this on to someone you care about Sometimes they just need a little something to make them smile.

If Things Get Better With Age Then I’m Approaching Excellent.

“Old Friends are the best friends!”

“Thank you for being an “OLD FRIEND”

Taco Tuesdays With Tracy

This story begins five years ago when my friends Donna and Al began having dates every Tuesday. Their routinely went to a movie, ate, and then to a local bar for a drink. The bar is different from normal saloons. This one has couches and easy chairs in addition to the standard bar with bar stools. It smacked of a living room setting and it was lady friendly. Al is a super friendly guy with a dynamic personality and often invites walk-ins whom he doesn’t know to join Donna and him for a drink and conversation. It started slow, but then people he knew came in and he corralled them to join too. That is how I got involved, he asked me to join them at the Stray for a drink on Tuesdays. I joined. My wife Peggy and I both came. By then the group was regularly up to six, most were established friends. I watched Al as he looked for people coming in.. He has magic when it comes to getting people to like him.

One Tuesday he spotted a young lady with long jet-black hair sitting at the bar alone and called her over. That was the beginning of a lasting friendship until two weeks ago.  Tracy was young fortiesh with jet black hair that she rolled into a chignon. Her eyes were dark, almost black and she accented them with make-up. Her skin an olive white, she looked very Italian or Greek, She was a beautiful lady. Both Al and I have children that are older. Tracy’s personality was bubbly and upbeat. Occasionally, Tracy showed up with her hair long and straight and looking glamorous. On the days she did we called her Stacy because her person was so different. She easily fit into the group and was able to withstand the teasing she got.

To speed up the story I fast forward to where I am now going to the Stray Tuesdays by myself. Peg’s dementia progressed to the point of her not enjoying the outings any more. I hired a caretaker to be with her full time, but I also stayed home to be with her. For a few weeks the three of us came to the Stray, Peg, me and Irene. All of us got a respite from the house. Eventually, It became too hard on Peg and ergo I took advantage of the time off.

Tracy didn’t have a car, and often walked to the Stray from her apartment a few blocks away. I always gave myself a curfew and when it was time for me to leave I asked her if she wanted a ride because I drove right past her apartment on my way home. She took me up on it. Many times, it was winter, dark and cold, and riding was much safer than walking.

I developed a habit of leaving the Stray at six-thirty to give me enough time to grab a taco or nachos bowl, and I could still be home by seven. I felt I could leave Peg’s company for two hours without me feeling guilty.

Time moves on, and so did Tracy. She moved to a more affordable space. Actually it was a room in a condo owned by a lady who needed some extra cash. Tracy rented a room from her. Tracy loved it. On one evening on our way home I asked her if she wanted to stop for a Taco. She jumped at the proposal, but didn’t like the place I suggested. She instead liked My Taco also on the way home. That is when I started going for Tacos every Tuesday with Tracy. It was a regular thing for us until she got sick and nearly died with liver failure.

Miraculously, Tracy slowly came back. She had to apply for disability which she received from the state. But as soon as she started getting income the state took its piece of the action. She was defunct on a student loan and State said ye shall pay up. Her meager disability-income diminished by a whole lot. To offset the difference she took a job as a part-time property manager with her former boyfriend. He loaned her an old car to allow her to do this. She still struggled with survival. In addition to the rent collections she became a hostess for Capri, a four star restaurant. Because she no longer needed a ride home and because her time was crunched we could no-longer go for a taco together.

About six weeks ago, Tracy was not her usual bubbly self. She sat quietly and watched but didn’t participate. We all suspected she was having a problem, Then she stopped coming. Donna texted her and asked why. She received no answer. Donna called her sister to learn that Tracy was back in the hospital. Then two weeks ago we got a text from a friend that Tracy died that morning. She was fifty years old, a mother of two, and a grandmother of three.

Today, the Stray group attended a memorial service for Tracy. We sat sullenly before a vase with her ashes surrounded by flowers. Several of her friends came forward and told stories about their relationship with Tracy. I was just about to do the same except the reverend stepped in and began the homily/eulogy.

No more Peg and no more taco Tuesdays with Tracy, I thought to myself. How wild is that? It got me to thinking and asking, just where does a person’s soul go after the body craps out? I believe we all have a soul but I can’t fathom where it goes. Are we just a whisp of ethereal light or gaseous matter floating about the universe? What? That is something I will not discern until I too crap out.

Saints Barbara of Prestwick, Peggy of Brown, and Tracy of the Stray I miss you, I need you, I love you, and will be with you soon.

LUV, Grumpa Joe

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