The Boomer's Lament

Speak up when we complain about how hard it is for Mom to hear; after years at the disco, no sound is too clear.

Slow down when we jog by, complaining about the man with the cane, ‘cause I think I just got a charley horse or at least a small sprain.

When I talk with Mom’s doc about her memory disorder, this time I must remember to bring a tape recorder.

It’s fun to watch Dad try to run a microwave; if I knew how to use my cell phone camera, that’s a picture I would save.

Those who are old and those who are grey, I’m glad that at least I’m nothing like they…Think about the words above when those who frustrate you are also those that you love.

For it may soon be your own kids, as quick as you please, begging and pleading: “Mom, where did you hide the keys?”

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