When I grow old...

I hope that I can make people laugh and that I am happy.

There was a dear soul next to me in the hospital, 89 years old, and well let's just say that physically she was in the bed next to me, mentally we were not too sure where she was at, but it was not there. She was disoriented, far off somewhere, BUT she was happy... well for the most part. She did NOT want to be in bed - in fact she wanted to be up and partying. . . "Life is too short for bed" (That just made me laugh.... )

As the nurse came to get her ready for bed she was adamant that she was not going to bed, and that she wanted to see each of us in our fancy gowns and then go to the party. I happily paraded by her in my lovely "hospital gown" of green stripes, snazzy blue squares with a plunging back that left the world gaping.... did a little twirl on my way to the bathroom - to which she clapped, and let out a little whoot whoot.... I was happy to make her smile. Besides anyone who says you look lovely in such a gown can only be trying to make YOU feel better.

She truly was a sweet thing that reminded me of a few grandmas rolled into one. Esp when she let out a "so so so" something that Royd's grandma would come out with when she was not to sure about what was going to happen next. Or when she in no uncertain terms let the nurse know she was NOT going to bed... that she wanted to party - something I could hear my own grandma saying. She was a feisty little bit of a thing - she did party all night long, at the nurses station - where the nurses said she did not sleep a wink. Then when she was wheeled back "home" for breakfast she went on and on about how those girls out there sure chatted all night long about nothing, no one could sleep a wink out there. The 3 of us left in the room hooted - and smiled about it for the rest of the day.

Truly laughter is the best medicine.