The Hamburg Area Item - - Lo­cal News -

I quickly added, “And this is my hus­band, Harry.” I told Harry her name on the drive home.

Just re­cently, my hus­band and I went to the gro­cery store. We each have a cer­tain job to do. He car­ries the gro­cery money and I bring along the list and the plas­tic bags. When we got to the store, he told me he for­got the money. I told him I for­got the bags. Need­less to say, we drove home to pick up what we for­got.

Aren’t there just some se­nior mo­ments you’d just like to for­get?

While do­ing a chore with my hus­band, he had asked me to hold the dust­pan while he swept the de­bris on to it. I was bend­ing down wait­ing and wait­ing when I no­ticed he wasn’t mov­ing the broom, but he was laugh­ing. “What’s so funny?” I asked per­turbed. He an­swered, “Most peo­ple turn the dust­pan right side up to place trash in it.”

Some­thing hap­pened in the gro­cery store just last week. We’ll of­ten say, “I’ll get this or that.” I headed for the onion pile. I have no idea why veg­gies are on a slanted board, es­pe­cially round ones. I picked up an onion and all of a sud­den I had an avalanche of onions rolling to­wards me. I quickly pressed my stom­ach against the bar­rage. It stopped. But we still has about 10 to pick up off the floor.

Then there are times I have a fear of fall­ing off a draw­bridge. My hus­band and I were on vaca- tion in St. Au­gus­tine, Florida. If you wish to go to the shops you have to take the 10 minute walk across the bridge. On the way back, I was mid- way, yet not on the draw­bridge, when I heard ‘ clang, clang, clang.’ The white no cross­ing bar, in back of me, came down. It took so long for the guy in the booth to push the but­ton for the draw­bridge so I de­cided to sit. Soon, I heard the man, from the booth, speak into the mi­cro­phone, “Please cross the bridge.” I stayed sit­ting. I stood up and looked at the man in the booth, “Me?” He nod­ded yes. I walked closer to him, “Do I stand here?” Again he re­peated, “Please cross the bridge.” The twerp. Now I’m re­ally scared that he’ll push the but­ton, while I’m on the part that lifts up, and some­one will have to save me when I fall into the wa­ter. All went well. He didn’t push the but­ton.

I do know when to call in help. I was go­ing to at­tend a Penn State re­union with my hus­band. I didn’t want to look like a “frump.” A frump is an older per­son who fears look­ing un- in­ter­est­ing or unattrac­tive, but still wants to be an “in” grandma. I called on the troops, my grand­chil­dren, for help with makeup, jew­elry, and clothes. One grand­child in­sisted I try on one of those ‘ Push ‘ em up’ bras. I did. It pushed up too much to suit me. Give me an A for at least think­ing about it. I still had a fun time at the re­union, ‘ push ‘ em up’ or not.

Ah­h­h­hhh. Se­nior mo­ments to re­mem­ber. I’m be­gin­ning to think God gives them to me so I have some­thing to write about.

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