I am an old woman
Almost 90 That’s quite an age, I would say I am what they call frail elderly What does that mean exactly? Well, I am wobbly on my feet I have aches and pains in most places Sometimes I can’t even straighten up. Sometimes I drop things and can't open jars I go to the bathroom often Occasionally I don’t make it But pads help. Depressing, you might say But I would say No, not at all. You see, that is not really me It is just a costume That disguises who I truly am. Then, who am I? I’m getting closer to answering that How? By a strange route It turns out that my pain has been my greatest gift Although I resist it and curse it Especially at night in my frequent trips to the bathroom I pour out my rage and grief and fear. But still it assaults my body And I learn that it is not only the pain I am angry at It goes deeper than that It has been with me a long time I rage in silence Just like my mother I never wanted to be like her But I’ve discovered I am more like her Than I would like to admit. But you know something When you face your demons They are not all that bad I don’t mind being like her She is tender and fierce And angry and critical But I’m learning something from swimming In these murky turbulent waters I’m learning that I love my mother And I forgive her for her anger and criticism and judgment And I love and accept all these warts in myself I needed them at one time They are not needed anymore But still they cling Like burrs on a dog’s coat They are part of the armour of my wounded inner child I remove them gently and lovingly. It may sound weird But I am spending time with my inner child Singing with her Reading children’s books And listening to her complaints Crying with her Laughing with her Loving her tenderly. So is there light at the end of this dark tunnel Absolutely there is I can’t be sure but I think I am in the middle of a transformation It is the death of all that was So that the new me can emerge It is happening each day as I preside Over the decline of my body A body that doesn’t walk, stand and get up The way it used to Each day I grieve its passing and then let go. So I will introduce you to the new me Though I am only just getting acquainted with her myself She is a lot like the old me Except she laughs more, sings more and cries more She is less critical of herself and others When things don’t go so well She may curse first but then she smiles And says I choose love When she judges herself or others She says I choose peace. I am in wilderness territory right now As death looms closer, I realize how blessed I am I am blessed by my family and friends And by life itself I don’t know how all this will turn out I know I can’t do this alone So I surrender all my fears to the Divine Beloved My mantra these days is My soul magnifies the Lord.
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Ione GroverWelcome to my blog! I am a Reverend and the author of OLD: A Time For the Soul To Flourish. Archives
July 2023
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