Welcome to ButlerWebs' General Webs for Older Folks:

Baby Boomers & Over The Hill Stories, Poems & Song Lyrics Growing old is inevitable...growing up is optional.

For those of us who are "over the hill", have hit "mid-life", aging, elderly, senior citizens -- inspirational, motivational, and humorous stories for and about "Older Folks."

A Sense of Spring
Written by M. R. L. (Mildred R. Lenhart) ©2000
From "A Potpourri of All Things"

A robin on his way to work,
To feed his family,
Paused to sing a pleasant song,
And sent it straight to me.
He sang of love and life and Spring;
His voice was sweet and clear.
Bright magic to our world he brings.
I'm so thankful I can hear.

The sky's as bright as a blue jay's crest.
No dark clouds mar this view.
As little creatures build their next,
And God's sun warms us thru.
A bird, a breeze, a blade of grass;
To hear, to feel, to see.
Spring has returned to earth, at last.
I'm so lucky to be me!

If age decides to steal from me
The senses I hold dear,
I'll cherish al good memories;
Let God dissolve my fears.
If senile thoughts should change my ways,
And poems make way for rumor,
When folks recall the 'good old days',
I'll pray for a sense of humor.

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These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things
Author Unknown

Maalox and nose drops and needles for knitting,
Walkers and handrails and new dental fittings,
Bundles of magazines tied up with string,
These are a few of my favorite things.

Cadillacs and cataracts and hearing aids and glasses,
Polident and Fixodent and false teeth in glasses,
Pacemakers, golf carts and porches with swings,
These are a few of my favorite things.

When the pipes leak
When the bones creak
When the knees go bad
Then I remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad.

Hot tea and crumpets, and corn pads for bunions,
No spicy hot food nor food cooked with onions
Bathrobes and heat pads and hot meals they bring,
These are a few of my favorite things.

Back pains, confused brains, and no fear of sinning,
Thin bones and fractures and hair that is thinning,
And we won't mention our short shrunken frames
When we remember our favorite things.

When the joints ache, when the hips break,
When the eyes grow dim,
Then I remember the great life I've had,
And then I don't feel so bad.
Then I remember the great life I've had
and then I don't feel soooo baaaaddd!

Author Unknown

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When I'm 64
By John Lennon & Paul McCartney

When I get older, losing my hair,
Many years from now.
Will you still be sending me a Valentine
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I'd been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four.
You'll be older too,
And if you say the word,
I could stay with you.
I could be handy, mending a fuse
When your lights have gone.
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings go for a ride,
Doing the garden, digging the weeds,
Who could ask for more.
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four.
Every summer we can rent a cottage,
In the Isle of Wight,
If it's not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera, Chuck & Dave
Send me a postcard, drop me a line,
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away
Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four.

by John Lennon/Paul McCartney

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Grandmom's Handgun

     An elderly lady did her shopping and, upon returning to her car, found four males in the act of leaving with her car. She dropped her shopping bags and drew her handgun, proceeding to scream at them at the top of her voice, "I have a gun and I know how to use it! Get out of the car you scumbags!"
     The four men didn't wait for a second invitation but got out and ran like mad, whereupon the lady, somewhat shaken, proceeded to load her shopping bags into the back of the car and got into the driver's seat.
     She was so shaken that she could not get her key into the ignition.  She tried and tried and then it dawned on her why. A few minutes later she found her own car parked four or five spaces farther down.  She loaded her bags into her car and drove to the police station.
     The sergeant to whom she told the story nearly tore himself in two with laughter and pointed to the other end of the counter, where four pale white males were reporting a car jacking by a mad elderly woman described as white, less than 5' tall, glasses, and curly white hair carrying a large handgun.
     No charges were filed. (True story!)

Submitted by Seps32

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Freckles

    An elderly woman and her little grandson, whose face was sprinkled with bright freckles, spent the day at the zoo. Lots of children  were waiting in line to get their cheeks painted by a local artist  who was decorating them with tiger paws
    "You've got so many freckles, there's no place to paint!" a girl in   the line said to the little fella.
    Embarrassed, the little boy dropped his head. His grandmother knelt down next to him. "I love your freckles. When I was a little girl I always wanted freckles," she said, while tracing her finger across the child's cheek. "Freckles are beautiful."
    The boy looked up, "Really?"
    "Of course," said the grandmother. "Why just name me one thing that's prettier than freckles."
    The little boy thought for a moment, peered intensely into his grandma's face, and softly whispered, Wrinkles."

Submitted by Froglady

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Rose
Author Unknown

    The first day of school, our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being.
    She said, "Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?"
    I laughed and enthusiastically responded, "Of course you may!" and she gave me a giant squeeze.
    "Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?" I asked.
She jokingly replied, "I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, have a couple of children, and then retire and travel."
    "No seriously," I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.
    "I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!" she told me.
    After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake. We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk non-stop. I was always mesmerized listening to this "time machine" as she shared her wisdom and experiences with me.
    Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up. 
    At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, "I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know."
    As we laughed she cleared her throat and began: "We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. "You have to laugh and find humor every day." "You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!" "There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up. If you are nineteen-years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty-years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight. Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding the opportunity in change."
    "Have no regrets. The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets."
    She concluded her speech by courageously singing "The Rose." She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.
    At the year's end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep. Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be. We send these words in loving memory of Rose.
    Remember: Growing older is mandatory; growing up is optional.

Submitted by MBF

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A Thousand Marbles
Author Unknown
Submitted by Seps32

    The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings.   Perhaps it's the quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it's the unbounded joy of not having to be at work. Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning are most enjoyable.
    A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other.  What began as a typical Saturday morning turned into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from time to time. Let me tell you about it.
    I turned the volume up on my radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning talk show.  I heard an older sounding chap with a golden voice.  You know the kind, he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting business himself. He was talking about "a thousand marbles" to someone named "Tom".
    I was intrigued and sat down to listen to what he had to say. "Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you're busy with your job. I'm sure they pay you well but it's a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a week to make ends meet. Too bad you missed your daughter's dance recital."
    He continued, "Let me tell you something Tom, something that has helped me keep a good perspective on my own priorities."  And that's when he began to explain his theory of a "thousand marbles."
    "You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about seventy-five years. I know, some live more and some live less, but on average, folks live about seventy-five years."
    "Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with 3900 which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in their entire lifetime.  Now stick with me Tom, I'm getting to the important part."
    "It took me until I was fifty-five years old to think about all this in any detail", he went on, "and by that time I had lived through over twenty-eight hundred Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy."
    "So I went to a toy store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to round-up 1000 marbles. I took them home and put them inside of a large, clear plastic container right here in my workshop next to the radio. Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and thrown it away."
    "I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focused more on the really important things in life. There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight."
    "Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast.
    This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure if I make it until next Saturday then I have been given a little extra time.  And the one thing we can all use is a little more time."
    "It was nice to talk to you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your loved ones, and I hope to meet you again someday. Have a good morning!"
    You could have heard a pin drop when he finished.  Even the show's moderator didn't have anything to say for a few moments. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I had planned to do some work that morning, then go to the gym. Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a kiss. "C'mon honey, I'm taking you and the kids to breakfast."
    "What brought this on?" she asked with a smile.  "Oh, nothing special, it's just been a long time since we spent a Saturday together with the kids.  Hey, can we stop at a toy store while we're out?  I need to buy some marbles."

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We were told about a very special Web page with a poem entitled "Crabby Old Woman?" written by a woman in a nursing home. 
Please take a moment to visit a Web site devoted to this poem:
http://angelfairy.greeting-cards-4u.com/af153.html
Submitted by Nancy - Fairview

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We have so many good links for Older Folks - 
so we made a separate page! CLICK HERE

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This page was last edited 05/03/05.