Pity Party

I’m still having my pity party. I spent Thanksgiving alone, after raising three sons. Well, the one in China skyped with me, so there was that at least. He sat and we talked while I ate my turkey TV dinner. I’m not well enough to cook a big Thanksgiving feast. I’m not well enough to eat much of one. I have lost about thirty pounds this year without trying. The doctors are running tests, but they’re not sure they can do anything if they figure out exactly what’s causing the problem. I’m not sure I’m going to agree to any more tests.

This may have been my last Thanksgiving. I guess we’ll find out in 2019.

But I’ve become determined to put up every Christmas decoration I have and at my age, I have a lot. I got the wreath on the front door a few minutes ago. Then I stayed outside in the rain checking the level of gas in the tank to see if the house can continue to be warm. And I realized I was staggering around. I forgot my cane. I don’t usually use it, but I have one because I got it free. My youngest used it for a while when he was recovering from the Pit bull bite. My little black dog and I were attacked by a Pit bull a couple years ago. It actually attacked her, and I grabbed it by the collar and pulled it off. Then it got away from me . . . those things are strong! and it jumped up on me and knocked me down and went back to ripping her sides apart. I had hold of it again and was still trying to pull it off when my youngest heard me screaming and came out to help. That’s when the Pit bull bit him. I got a shovel and told my son to move, and just as he was moving and I was raising that shovel over my head to hit that Pit bull with it, my neighbor who owns the beast came running out and grabbed the Pit bull by the collar and carried it into his house. My other neighbor had already called the police. I guess she was too afraid to come help. But anyway, that’s the most use my cane has gotten until lately. It’s dark pink with roses and I thought my son looked silly using it, but I kept my mouth shut because I knew he needed it. They had him using a walker at the hospital.

Let’s see . . . oh, yes, so while I was out checking the gas in the tank, a poem popped into my head. I wrote it down and am going to put it here. Maybe someone will read it? I have a book of poems on Amazon.com that I self-published through Createspace. It’s called Bow Wow! Meow! and is pet poetry . . . poems about different pets. Some of the poems have been published in magazines, but some are brand new.

Anyway, here’s today’s poem:

Die Standing Up

I’m going to die standing up,
And not lying down,
I stagger around,
Sometimes with a frown.

I have too much to do,
To sit down at all,
When I die standing up,
I guess I will fall.

When I remember my cane,
Then I wobble, not stagger,
The man next door,
Always asks, “What’s the matter?”

I’m old and I’m frail
With too much to do.
I’m going to die standing up.
Does it matter to you?
by Constance Barr Corbett
11/24/18

And to those of you participating in NaNoWriMo, my hat is off to you! I did that one year. I hope you make it! I feel certain that you will. If you want to let me know in the replies, I would find that interesting. Thanks.