Coral and Ginger were well into their 80s. They had been friends for years; in fact they had started kindergarten together way back. They both had had happy marriages, brought up families, and been widowed. These days Ginger lived at her daughter’s home. Coral was fiercely independent and lived alone.
Coral hated the fact that she was getting old and couldn’t do things that used to be as easy as pie. For example she could no longer lift a heavy pot off the stove, or even pick up her beloved cat. She still managed household chores but at a slower pace, as long as there was no heavy lifting. And then the sad news came. Ginger was chronically ill. She had cancer. “If there’s anything I can do just call,” said Coral to Ginger’s daughter.
And indeed there was something Coral could do. “Would she mind ever so much to stay the night and fix Ginger her dinner and breakfast?” Ginger’s daughter had to go away overnight urgently and Coral would be the perfect caregiver.
“It would be a privilege,” said Coral. Off the daughter went! She had barely left when…
Ginger fell out of bed.
It’s no fun being ill
And it can kill
Especially if you’re over the hill
But in this case I don’t think it will
Cos you’ll take your pill
Which is quite cool.
For where there’s a way there’s a wool
Especially if you take your pool
And keep relatively stool
And don’t drool
But have your fool
Of life and not charge around like a bill.
So get better soon, lill by lill,
Don’t be a dill
Remember – if you go through the mill
You come out as a flower.
Ind that’s pratty gud.
To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.
© Bruce Goodman 1 August 2015
Marvin was feeling a bit off colour. His wife told him not to be silly.
“You never get sick,” she said. “Never. Not in forty-seven years of marriage. If you got off your backside and did some exercise you’d feel better.”
Marvin mowed a bit of lawn and then came inside. He watched something on television.
“You need to give yourself a good shake,” said Marvin’s wife. “Give yourself a good shake. I’m going to town, and when I come back I want to see the lawn finished.”
“I’m feeling a bit off colour, that’s all,” said Marvin.
“Fresh air will do you good,” said Marvin’s wife. “Get yourself a bit of fresh air. You never get sick. Not in forty-seven years. Just get off your backside and stop mooching.”
She left for town. A pity; if she hadn’t been so hasty she could’ve called for an ambulance.