A mother and son’s view of old age.
Some people/sons think this way
The numbers are increasing,
The demographic kind,
Of ageing baby boom cohorts
In biological decline.
They swamp the health care system
Become seniors by the score.
I wish they were invisible
Then death we could ignore.
My parents have retired
To devote their lives to pleasure.
What a boring lifestyle
Using up unlimited leisure.
Maybe a worthwhile part-time job
With status will assist them
To productively remain
Locked into the capitalist system.
Dear old Dad has passed away.
We all must go sometime.
Will Mum come and live with us
Or go to Shady Pines?
What? Sell the house tomorrow
And buy into a village
With pool and spa and golf course
And gain a millionaire’s image?
But won’t she feel so guilty
As she lays out in the sun?
Great grandma would be saying
‘Are you sure the work is done?’
Mum’s reply
The time has gone for guilt.
I’ve always worked, my dear,
It’s time for me to play
And enjoy my remaining years.
But something strange is happening
I’m not as spry as you
Things I once thought easy
Are now difficult to do.
My teeth sit in a glass
My hair has gone so thin
Now I’m even noticing
A spare tyre and double chin.
My body is getting older
It’s drooping more each day
And I find you try and help me
As I stagger and I sway
I think you see your mother
In obvious decline
Well look a little closer,
I’ve a young, inquiring mind.
And yet I do have fears
Of darkness, death and healthcare
And need the extra security
Of a buzzer and of welfare.
But don’t lump us all together
As an old decrepit bunch.
I make my own decisions
And that’s what really counts.
I’ll live my life with enthusiasm
Right up to my last day
So don’t weep when I leave quietly
In my euthanasia way.
But in the meantime darling
I really don’t need much,
Just let me live life my way
And always keep in touch.
Writers and their stories 