At the end of recent visit with my Grandma Waggoner, she gave me this piece of paper and had me read it out loud to her. She gave me the copy, which I treasure because it is in her handwriting!
I'm Fine -- How Are You?
There's nothing the matter with me,
I'm just as healthy as can be.
I have arthritis in both knees,
and when I talk, I talk with a wheeze.
My pulse is weak, my blood is thin,
but I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
My memory's failing, my head's in a spin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
Old age is golden -- I've heard it said,
But I sometimes wonder as I go to bed.
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
and my glasses on a shelf until I get up.
And when sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself,
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?
The reason I know my youth has been spent,
Is my get-up-and-go has got-up-and-went!
But really I don't mind, when I think with a grin,
Of all the places my get-up has been.
The moral of this as the tale unfolds,
Is that for you and me who are growing old,
It is better to say, "I"m fine" with a grin,
Than to let people know the shape we are in!