Living to be 94

My father-in-law always said he hoped he could live to be a hundred. He is now 89 and still in fairly good health. The only problem is that a couple of years ago he developed Alzheimer’s and is now confined to a care facility. As I think about him and others I find myself wondering whether growing old is really all that great. If you are one who is in good health perhaps it would be a good thing, but I believe the odds are stacked against that happening.  I have always said I don’t want to live to be real old. This poem expresses some of my sentiments.

Living to be 94

If I live to be 94

What friend would come knocking at my door

Being that they’d all gone before

Or maybe they came and I remember no more

Since those memories seem to go right out the door

Why would I want to be that old

Why would one want to be so bold

To out-live all my friends of old

And spend my last doing what I’m told

Not a great option for me…

When death comes passing at 84

I just might hitch a ride while I am sure

That growing old appeals no more

When my only friend left is Arthur Itis

The world can surely do without us

Death, come grab me before 94

For I won’t want to be here anymore!

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Photos: Dwight L.