But, like my Grandma Gould has taught me, "Everything is relative." So I've decided to keep things in perspective. I wouldn't trade being my age, with a 2 1/2 year old. I wouldn't exchange any of my experiences, for a smoother face. I'm happy with who I am and with where I am in life. And come to find out, my Grandma Gould feels the same way about her life. Here is a poem she wrote about being her age. This is wisdom!
The Best Age
There must be a time In this life down here
That life just seems perfect
And I think I am there!
No sad departures
And sent off to school
Out in that mean world
With it's endless rules
Then comes all those decisions to make
And tests galore!
Worries then about how we score.
Soon every morning that miserable alarm
Gets us off to work
Whether city or farm
Marriage comes along
And if you like your own way
There are two now
And each has his say.
With the little ones, happiness arrives
But oh, those sleepless nights
Then endless questions, and the "whys"?
Hardly any time to read the paper in peace
Or who chooses the programs
Is there no relief?
To do my own thing
Whatever it may be
But always responsibilities
Time passes and complaints do change
Retiring from some duties But others remain
With tolerance and endurance
We no longer seem blessed
Oh when, oh when Can I ever rest?
So, you see; now I have no time must arise
And not awakened by infant's cries
I can stay in my robe as long as I like
I can sit all day, or take a hike
The house stays tidy, no toys on the floor
Not a lot is expected but just to adore
And enjoy the little ones more and more.
So you see -I can let God arrange each day
Have plenty of time to read and to pray
With no one to judge For now it's OK
So if eighty-six is the "perfect age"
How come, it's not "just the rage"?
written by Alice Gould