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Copyright 1999 Angel is a Lady. All rights reserved.
Site design by Angel is a Lady. Created 4th June, 1999

Remember, old folks are worth a fortune, with silver in their hair, gold in their teeth, stones in their kidneys, lead in their feet, and gas in their stomachs.

I have become a little older since I saw you last and a few changes have come to my life since then. Frankly, I have become quite a frivolous old gal. I see five gentleman every day. As soon as I wake up WILL POWER gets me out of bed. Then I go to see JOHN. Then CHARLIE HORSE comes along and when he is here he takes a lot of my time and attention! When he leaves ARTHUR RITIS shows up and stays the rest of the day. He doesn't like to stay in one place very long so he takes me from joint to joint. After such a busy day, I'm tired and glad to go to bed with BEN GAY.

The preacher came to call the other day. He said at my age I should be thinking about the hereafter. I told him, "Oh, I do all the time. No matter where I am, in the parlor, upstairs, in the kitchen or down in the basement, I ask myself, "Now what am I here after?"

There's nothing whatever the matter with me
I'm just as healthy as I can be.

I have arthritis in both my knees
And when I talk, I speak with a wheeze
My pulse is weak and my blood is thin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

I think my liver is out of whack
and I have a terrible pain in my back,
My hearing is poor and my eyes are dim
Most everything seems to be out of trim.
The way I stagger sure is a crime
I'm likely to fall at any time.
But, all things considered, I'm feeling fine.

Arch supports for both my feet
Or I wouldn't be able to walk down the street.
My fingers are ugly, stiff in the joints,
My nails are impossible to keep in points.
Complexion is bad, due to dry skin
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

My dentures cut, I'm restless at night
In the morning I'm a frightful sight.
Memory's failing, head's in a spin,
I'm practically living on aspirin.
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

Now the moral is, as this tale will unfold
That for you and me who are growing old
It's better to say "I'm fine" with a grin
Than to tell everyone of the shape we're in.

Just a line to say I'm living,
That I'm not among the dead,
Though I'm getting more forgetful,
And mixed up in the head.

I've got used to my arthritis,
To dentures I'm resigned.
I can manage my bifocals,
But Oh God I miss my mind.

For sometimes, I can't remember,
When I stand at the foot of the stairs
If I must go up for something,
Or if I've just come down from there.

And before the fridge so often,
My poor mind is filled with doubt,
Have I just put food away?
Or have I come to get some out?

And there's times when it is dark,
With my nightcap on my head,
I don't know if I'm retiring,
Or just getting out of bed.

So if it's my turn to write to you,
there's no need to get sore,
I may think that I have written,
And I don't want to be a bore.

So remember I do love you,
And I wish that you were near,
But now it's nearly mail time,
So I must say 'Good-bye dear'.

There I stood beside the mail box,
With a face so very red,
Instead of mailing you my letter,
I opened it instead.

Authors are all unknown. These were tucked here and there in my mother's house, as jokes she liked and saved. If you know the author's names, please email me so that I may give them credit. My email is on my home page. Thanks!

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