 A very weird thing has happened. A strange old lady has moved into my house. I have no idea
who she is, where she came from or how she got in. I certainly did not invite her. All I know is
that one day she wasn’t there, and the next day she was. She is a clever old lady and manages
to keep out of sight for the most part, but whenever I pass a mirror, I catch a glimpse of her.
And whenever I look in the mirror to check my appearance, there she is, hogging the whole thing,
completely obliterating my gorgeous face and body. This is very rude. I have tried screaming
at her, but she just screams back.
If she insists on hanging around, the least she could do is offer to pay part of the rent, but no.
Once in a while, I find a dollar bill stuck in a coat pocket, or some loose change under a sofa
cushion, but is not nearly enough to even pay part of the rent.I don’t want to jump to conclusions,
but I think she is stealing money from me, I go to the ATM and withdraw $100, and a few days
later it’s all gone. I certainly don’t spend money that fast, so I can only conclude the old lady is taking it.
You’d think she would spend some of that money to buy wrinkle cream, Lord knows she needs
it. And money isn’t the only thing I think she is stealing. Food seems to disappear at an
alarming rate. -- especially the good stuff like ice cream, cookies and candy. I can’t seem to keep
that stuff in the house anymore. She must have a real sweet tooth, but she’d better watch it,
because she is really packing on the pounds, I suspect she realizes that and to make herself feel
better, she is tampering with my scale to make me think I am putting on weight too.
For an old lady, she is quite childish. She likes to play nasty games, like going into my closets
when I’m not home and altering my clothes so they won’t fit. And she messes with my files and
papers so I can’t find anything. This is particularly annoying since I am extremely neat and
organized. She also fiddles with my VCR so it does not record what I have carefully
programmed it to do.She has found other imaginative ways to annoy me. She gets into my mail,
newspapers and magazines before I do and blurs the print so I can’t read it. And she has done
something really sinister to the volume controls on my TV, radio and telephone. Now all I hear
are mumbles and whispers.
She has done other things -- like make my stairs steeper, my vacuum cleaner heavier and all
my knobs and faucets harder to turn. She even made my bed higher so that getting into and out
is a real challenge. Lately she has been fooling with my groceries, applying glue to the lids,
making it almost impossible for me to open the jars. Is this any way to repay my hospitality.
She has taken the fun out of shopping for clothes. When I try something on, she stands in front
of the dressing room mirror and monopolizes it. She looks totally ridiculous in some of those
outfits, plus she keeps me from seeing how great they look on me.
Just when I thought she couldn’t get any meaner, she proved me wrong. She came along when
I went to get my passport picture taken, and just as the camera shutter clicked, she jumped in
front of me! Disaster! I have never seen such a terrible picture. How can I go abroad now? No
customs official is ever going to believe that that crone scowling from my passport is me.
She's walking on very thin ice. If she keeps this up, I swear, I'll put her in a home. On second
thought, I shouldn't be too hasty. First, I think I'll check with the IRS and see if I can claim her as a dependent
............Rose Madeline Mula
SILENT PASSAGE by "Sunndown"
"What is wrong with me", I'm screaming in my brain.
No one hears the horror, I cry inside, but no one sees my pain.
The endless nights with weary eyes,
Afraid to sleep, because it will come, by and by.
It sneaks upon me during the day, forcing me to glow.
It suffocates me and I struggle to hide it, hoping no one will know.
Patting the moisture from my glistening brow, and sitting in silence I suffer,
Sipping water or crunching ice, anything to act as a buffer.
The "rage" subsides, ebbing away like a slithering snake, until the next time you see.
So tired, so little sleep, angry because it's winning the battle, I know it waits for me.
I'm not ready to give up; the end is not near; to concede would mean defeat.
It is not my time, but right now, life looks pretty bleak.
Why does my hair have to turn gray, and why does my body have to look this way?
Damn Mother Nature! What does she know, don't I have a say?
And then it comes, in the middle of the night, attacking while I sleep.
The "night sweats", "hot flashes", it's what they call "the inner heat".
There's a rage no one likes to speak of, traveling down this hall.
That's why they call it silent, the passage, into MENOPAUSE!
Words To Live By.....
On a positive note I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.
I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.
I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.
I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life."
I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.
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.
I've learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you. But if you focus on your family, your friends, the needs of others, your work and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you.
I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.
I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.
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.
I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.
I've learned that you should pass this on to someone you care about. I just did. Sometimes they just need a little something to make them smile.
Note: People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel......
"We're all cracked pots....."
A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the
pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master's house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.
For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water in his master's house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.
After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am
ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you.
"Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"
"I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak
out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full
value from your efforts," the pot said.
The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I
want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path." Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it somewhat. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure.
The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."
The moral of this story: Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. In this world, nothing goes to waste.
You may think like the cracked pot that you are inefficient or useless in certain areas of your life, but somehow these flaws
can turn out to be a blessing in disguise.
|
TM
Dear Dee,
