In my childhood,
I helped Mother in the house,
went to school, was praised by teachers,
threatened with an eighteen-inch ruler,
played with siblings and friends,
was harassed by schoolyard bullies.
As a teen-ager, I went to high school,
to the prom, graduated.
In my adult years, I went to college,
got a job, was married.
When I grow old,
can’t see, hear, or walk,
depend on others,
I’ll remember my life.
***
This is the last poem in my collection, How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver. To hear me read it and sing a song about an old cat remembering her younger years, visit https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/15213189/i%20remember-memory.mp3 .
***
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My Corner 
Boy you summed up your life quickly. I feel like mine is going that fast some days. Is it just me, or is it just me? grin dp
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No, Deon, it’s not just you. Time seems to be flying at twice the speed of a speeding bullet these days. Smile.
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Yes, that is the way it goes. We build these memories and take them to the grave with us. But in our older years, they are often our only comfort, I think.
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Glenda, you hit the nail on the head. In my years working in a nursing home, I’ve discovered how music helps residents unleash their memories, and in many cases, that’s all they have.
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