Sometimes we forget that others look up to us...sometimes we forget that others are busy too; so we feel hurt at their seemingly unconcern. A mother waits to hear from her children.... a call never comes, so she picks up the phone, no one is home... a grandmother sits alone in her room, waiting for a surprise visit; or if she is lucky enough to still have her husband, for him to acknowledge her.
A wife grows weary and wishes her husband would just talk with her; or sit quietly and hold her.... he is tied up on the computer, TV or game; even maybe in the garage doing his thing...how is it possible to be surround by many and feel alone? Sometimes we forget about those around us because they are always there.
I know it is not all about me.....that stops when one becomes a wife, mother, grandmother, caregiver..... Compassion, love, understanding, helpfulness, unselfish acts.... Those things become your banner, armor and shield. You don’t dare cry…your armor is tough but could rust. You don’t dare complain….that won’t change a thing. So, you set in your golden years, battling thoughts and fighting back tears… it seems that no one understands that your mind and heart hasn’t changed, only the depth of the wrinkles on your face and hands.
I wonder if men feel the same; they of course never care to talk about such things. So, we really don’t know! I have to admit that there are some men that are romantics, listeners, compassionate about the feelings of a woman; but I haven’t had the privilege to know one. I do know they exist. Maybe I have been so busy I never noticed them in front of me.
The Golden Years are difficult; they are for me anyway. You remember how things use to be, you wish things could be the way you want them, you fear tomorrow; you fear never knowing what may have been had you paid more attention to those in your world. You fear you were to busy to make a difference; you fear you missed the chance to fulfilled your destiny. You fear, "did I even know my destiny?"
The Golden years aren’t what they perceive it to be on TV, in books, or commercials. I believe I am living in the true reality that life in the Golden Years really is a fantasy; a fantasy where we convince ourselves everything is just fine and fun. Have I been so busy forgetting those around me because they were there, that I missed the dance? Have I been so busy I missed my Golden chance?
A wife grows weary and wishes her husband would just talk with her; or sit quietly and hold her.... he is tied up on the computer, TV or game; even maybe in the garage doing his thing...how is it possible to be surround by many and feel alone? Sometimes we forget about those around us because they are always there.
I know it is not all about me.....that stops when one becomes a wife, mother, grandmother, caregiver..... Compassion, love, understanding, helpfulness, unselfish acts.... Those things become your banner, armor and shield. You don’t dare cry…your armor is tough but could rust. You don’t dare complain….that won’t change a thing. So, you set in your golden years, battling thoughts and fighting back tears… it seems that no one understands that your mind and heart hasn’t changed, only the depth of the wrinkles on your face and hands.
I wonder if men feel the same; they of course never care to talk about such things. So, we really don’t know! I have to admit that there are some men that are romantics, listeners, compassionate about the feelings of a woman; but I haven’t had the privilege to know one. I do know they exist. Maybe I have been so busy I never noticed them in front of me.
The Golden Years are difficult; they are for me anyway. You remember how things use to be, you wish things could be the way you want them, you fear tomorrow; you fear never knowing what may have been had you paid more attention to those in your world. You fear you were to busy to make a difference; you fear you missed the chance to fulfilled your destiny. You fear, "did I even know my destiny?"
The Golden years aren’t what they perceive it to be on TV, in books, or commercials. I believe I am living in the true reality that life in the Golden Years really is a fantasy; a fantasy where we convince ourselves everything is just fine and fun. Have I been so busy forgetting those around me because they were there, that I missed the dance? Have I been so busy I missed my Golden chance?
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