THE SHOEBOX

THE SHOEBOX

A man and woman had been married for more than 60 years.
They had shared everything. They had talked about everything.
They had kept no secrets from each other except that the little
Old woman had a shoe box in the top of her closet that she had
Cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about.



For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but
One day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said
She would not recover.

In trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took
Down the shoe box and took it to his wife's bedside.
She agreed that it was time that he should know what was
In the box. When he opened it, he found two crocheted dolls
And a stack of money totaling $95,000.

He asked her about the contents.

'When we were to be married,' she said, ' my grandmother told me
The secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that
If I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and crochet a doll.'

The little old man was so moved; he had to fight back tears. Only two
Precious dolls were in the box. She had only been angry with him two
Times in all those years of living and loving. He almost burst with
Happiness.

'Honey,' he said, 'that explains the doll, but what about all of this money?
Where did it come from?'

'Oh,' she said, 'that's the money I made from selling the dolls.' 

Aging

    Over the years as a nurse I have taken care of many many patients.   On the 28th of this month it will be 31 years.   I was so young when I started.   Just a baby.   And I would look at my older patients and try to think what they looked like when they were younger.   I watched with a detached interest the effects of aging on peoples posture,  their skin,  bones, and hair.  Many times I listened while they told me mentally some days they would pop out of bed feeling the same as they did when young only to be stopped cold by the reality of the mirror.  Sheesh,  who is that old coot.?  When the heck did that happen?

    Fast forward 31 years and it's me glancing in the mirror and being taken aback. Oh my.   My flirting days are over, LOL.   If I didn't have a mirror in the house and didn't have any aches and pains many days, heck most days I would feel no different then I did as a young nurse just starting out.   Well, a lot more cynical and a lot less gullible then I was back then.  But still loving the job I decided to do most days.  And like the young nurse I was then I find myself,  with a somewhat detached resignation, watching the aging process on my body.  

      I don't understand the tatoo fad.   If I had young unflawed un-sundamaged skin I would never deliberately mar it.   My poor old surgery ravaged body would kill for some of that tight non saggy skin.   If I could go back I would never go in the sun without skin screen,  I would buy the best lotions,  I would not have stretched it out repeatedly with yo yo dieting.   But I must admit I had some fine fun damaging it in the past.   Maybe it was worth it in retrospect after all.

   Lately my legs are developing road maps.   This is new since I started working out so much.  The ole body objects with physical evidence these days when I put it through a pounding.   And putting on eye shadow is a challenge.  The skin wrinkles up as I put the brush over my lid. Brother.  I find myself wearing make up seldom.  

    And my hair.   Never a thick mane worthy of tossing wildly to drive men mad it still had it's redeeming qualities that I appreciated.   But over the years it has gotten darker and darker and thin.  Oh yeah, thin.  I would rather go gray then go bald.  I said that so many times so what is happening now?  I am getting gray also.  Be careful what you ask for.

    In my youth by now when I worked out at the gym as religiously as I do now I would have had some impressive results.   But nothing really seems to work on the bat wings under my  arms or the abs of flab.  My legs however look pretty darn good,  road maps and all.

     Actually though for my age I look pretty good.  No one usually believes me when I tell them my age and compared to many of my patients I am not showing the wear I should be considering the wear and tear I put my body through.   And even though I get a pang of sorrow at times about things not changeable I am for the most part content with where I am at this point in my live.   If I could change anything it would be the speed of time.   Because even the winters don't seem very long anymore.  It is like someone has sped up my clock.   But I am determined to enjoy every minute of it, wrinkles and all.