A conversation not to be forgotten!

Today I was working in the front garden. I was digging out Grape Hyacinths and Bluebells that are always threatening to overtake every other plant.

A lady stopped to pass the time of day.  She lives fairly close by and I see her often, and wave. Occasionally we have a brief chat.

Today, she greeted me with, “Oh, I didn’t realise that you lived there, so close to me!” She told me that she was Secretary of the local Allotment Society, and how busy that kept her. She also informed me that she had a pacemaker fitted, and how it had given her a new lease of life.

The conversation progressed along traditional lines and then she set off to continue her journey home.

I did not let on that we had had an identical conversation last time she passed by when I was gardening at the front, almost at the same spot.

As she left I said, “I’m Peter by the way!”

She reminded me of her name.

For the life of me, I cannot remember what it is!!

A Dementia Will?

 

dementiafrWe all know what a Will is, and we’ve all made one haven’t we?

Of course!  It would be silly not to have done so.

How about a Living Will? Good idea too!

These are not things to do when you are older, they are things that we all should have done long ago. If you haven’t, then arrange to do it soon.

I would add a further will, a Dementia Will. That is, how you would wish to be treated if you have to live with Dementia.  You can read mine here:

http://retirementandgoodliving.com/if-i-have-to-live-with-dementia/

Please use it as a basis for your own. I pray that it sits, unused, forever!

 

 

 

Stuff and Nonsense

stuff nonsense

 

A couple of months ago, completely out of the blue, I received an e mail from the editor of an American website, asking if I would be willing to be a guest blogger on their site. They had read my blog and thought that their readers may be interested in what I had to say.

After some serious thought, I decided to give it a go. Here is a link to my first blog.

See what you think!

http://retirementandgoodliving.com/author/peter-matthews/

On the Day I Die

Spare a few moments, from your very busy and important life, to read this. It applies to us all.

john pavlovitz

flowers copyOn the die I day a lot will happen.

A lot will change.

The world will be busy.

On the day I die, all the important appointments I made will be left unattended.

The many plans I had yet to complete will remain forever undone.

The calendar that ruled so many of my days will now be irrelevant to me.

All the material things I so chased and guarded and treasured will be left in the hands of others to care for or to discard.

The words of my critics which so burdened me will cease to sting or capture anymore. They will be unable to touch me.

The arguments I believed I’d won here will not serve me or bring me any satisfaction or solace.   

All my noisy incoming notifications and texts and calls will go unanswered. Their great urgency will be quieted.

My many nagging regrets will all be resigned to the past, where they should have always…

View original post 378 more words

My Life #1 – A life of badges!

It was only in January 2012, when I was thinking about my retirement speech, that I realised my life had been following a path determined by badges. It had never really occurred to me until then.

Here are some of the badges that have been significant in my life. The more I think about it, the more I can think of.

Over the next few months I shall elaborate on each, thus providing a mini autobiography.

An incredible itch, a rubber glove, and a very large penis

Now that I’ve grabbed your attention I can reveal that the following are real instances of encounters with patients by emergency staff.

 

A very smart looking lady, who was 106, presented with an incredibly itchy back. She told the doctor that she had no one to scratch it for her and asked for his help. Thinking that she must be confused the doctor started assessing her capacity, asking various questions. She sailed through the answers and, on the final one “Who sits on the throne?” she replied “ Doctor, it’s Queen Elizabeth the second. Now are you going to help me or not?”

The doctor decided he could not deny so venerable a lady some relief so set to giving her back a good scratch. She was rather deaf and started screaming “Up. up…. down, down…Oh yes!” At this stage the A & E sister flung back the curtains!

 

A doctor’s first experience of sewing up a very large cut on the head of an unconscious drunk went very well, despite the doctor being incredibly anxious with shaking hands. The closure was perfect, apart from the fact that he had stitched his glove to the top of the man’s head. The nurse had to leave the room in hysterics. They did not tell the patient!

 

A very sweet 90 year old lady had suffered a fall. She told the nurse that her husband had died about a year ago. The nurse asked what she missed about him the most, expecting a reply of companionship, or someone to hug. The lady said, “He had a lovely great big penis, and he knew just what to do with it.”

Council of Elders

old-shoe

Really powerful words by a great writer. Read and enjoy!

Source of Inspiration

The Elders of the tribe

hold council for the young

offering the wisdom gleaned

through time. Wrinkled faces

bowed backs, they listen patiently

then, in brevity of words, offer

possibilities to consider, leaving

final decisions to wait until

all have been heard and a

vote taken; justice, fairness

compassion guide the process.

Now our Elders are abandoned

in hallways of loneliness

institutions where they sit

drugged into silence

to wait without honor

until death steals them away

and another forgotten

mother or father finds

their place of lost dreams.

Oh, you ungrateful children

your time will come when

you, too, are cast away

left on the roadside

like a forgotten shoe

unless

you change a culture

that no longer respects

their elders to one

that cherishes all ages

from womb to tomb

and into the Great Beyond.

Source: Council of Elders

‪“The Little Boy and the Old Man”

 

Said the little boy, “Sometimes I drop my spoon.”

Said the old man, “I do that too.”

The little boy whispered, “I wet my pants.”

“I do that too,” laughed the little old man.

Said the little boy, “I often cry.”

The old man nodded, “So do I.”

“But worst of all,” said the boy, “it seems

Grown-ups don’t pay attention to me.”

And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.

“I know what you mean,” said the little old man.”

 

 

― Shel Silverstein