The Flying of Time senior living

| 17 Dec 2015 | 03:31

Did you ever notice how the day after Monday is Friday? Or so it seems. I actually love Mondays. A new, clean week. My favorite restaurants will be empty for lunch. The movies will have available seats and no lines. But suddenly it’s Friday again. Just like that, in a blink. Where did the week go? What happened to the days in the middle? Time is not only flying, it’s on a jet plane. Scary, isn’t it? When you’re a kid, time seems so endless, days so long, so … stretchy. Now it’s whoosh, and another week is gone. Is there a scientist who can explain this?

Another thing I’m noticing is that I’m receiving in the mail brochures, flyers etc. about assisted living facilities and burial sites. Not that I asked for them! Sorry, cemeteries, but I’m going to be cremated. I doubt this information will reach them and I expect to receive more of their unsolicited mail in the future. As for assisted living, well, I hope to avoid that entirely. As most of us do, I hope to remain in my home until I’m taken out feet first. I’ll do anything necessary to achieve that goal, though if it comes to being a burden to my children I make have to rethink it. In any case, I don’t know how I got on these lists and I wish I could end these fruitless and wasteful mailings. To my thinking, burial is a waste of space, but each to their own. I remember turning 50 (a millennium ago) and receiving the AARP magazine. How did they know, I wondered? It’s same with these brochures. They just know.

Are you Grandma, Nana or Bubbe? I am Grandma Marcia because there is a Grandma Hennie and I don’t like any of the other options and neither did Hennie. Nana makes me think I should be baking ginger snap cookies. Are you Grandpa, Zaide, Papa, or Poppy? My mother was Grandma, and I am Grandma. But wait, me, Grandma? It happened rather late, actually. My first grandchild was born when I was in my 60’s. And, of course, it’s wonderful. There’s nothing like it. But it shakes one up a bit, doesn’t it? First I was just Marcia. Eventually I was Mommy. Grandma snuck up on me. An old friend used to joke that when she had grandchildren they would call her Ms. Pat. Hah! She was Grandma in a snap. It’s like the rest of life; we adjust to everything and some of it we end up welcoming with open arms. Literally!

I attended a lovely luncheon hosted by a member of BAiP (Bloomingdale Aging in Place). BAiP has many activities, and lunches and dinners are hosted by whoever in the organization has the urge and are common throughout the year. We went to Sookk, a small Thai restaurant on Broadway between 102nd and 103rd Streets. The food was delicious and very reasonable. The restaurant is run by a family and they are more than generous in their portions and their smiles. Definitely worth a try.

Has anyone noticed what seems to be a slowdown of buses on the West Side? I’ve waited up to 45 minutes on Columbus, Amsterdam and Broadway. People are grumbling and muttering to themselves at the bus stops. When a bus finally arrives, it’s the battle of the walkers and canes. I’m sure the MTA would deny a slowdown, but c’mon folks, it’s obvious. And then, while waiting for that elusive vehicle, along comes a bus practically shouting “NOT IN SERVICE.” Grrr!!

And so it goes.