You’re looking at f***ing determination and truth and creativity. You’re looking at loss and sorrow and the effort for a deeper perspective. You’re looking at satisfaction and happiness. You’re looking at a manifestation of a connection so deep and rooted that it’s more real than I am. You’re looking at my face.*
FACE: One Square Foot of Skin by Justine Bateman
This popped up on my phone. I don’t even know how I got this data on my Garmin.
But hey, I’ll take it! Made this 52-year-old pretty happy.
Isn’t she gorgeous?
Judi Dench has worked for over 60 years and tattooed “Carpe Diem” on her inner wrist when she was 81.
You can read the interview here.
My mom moved in with us 11 days ago after dad passed away. My parents immigrated from Korea in the 60s. You can take mom out of Korea, but you can’t take Korea out of mom. She has no filter and even though she always has the best intentions and is the most loving person you could ever meet, her comments can sound strange, random and even hurtful. But she’s just doing her, you know?
This morning, I was driving her to church when she shared this gem:
“You know, when I look at my children, I realize I am very old. Because they look so old.”
Old bean pod, you dried up thing
no longer vibrant in our eyes
who’d want your monochrome self
bent, cracking and dull
beans spill out and
get buried in the earth
the sky cries
and a new life begins
“To “retire” means to me to begin to die. The man who works and is never bored is never old. Work and interest in worthwhile things are the best remedy for age.”
“…Casals argues, we renew ourselves through purposeful work. (He) lived and worked for another four years, dying eight weeks before his ninety-seventh birthday.”
“I’m 92 and just getting started.”
Rob Bell quoting one of his audience members on Oprah’s podcast.
Bell talks about the value of wisdom and how our society is overlooking the goldmine within the elderly. Not only that, but he speaks about how focusing and caring about the “wrong things” is making us tired and aging us. It’s a great podcast. You can listen to it here.
Would you still love me if I was sick and dying?
Would you hold my hand all day in the hospital room while the world outside went on and on…buzzing with activity?
Would you comb my dirty hair and bring me clean underwear and ask the doctor when I am allowed to shower?
Would you give me words of love and comfort as my spirits start to wither?
Would you stay with me?