Skip to main content

Throwback Thursday: Something to think about

I just realized that I completely forgot to mark the tenth anniversary of this blog which actually occurred exactly one week ago on December 5. But in honor of that, here's one of my past posts from 2015. It still has some relevance I think.

~~~

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Something to think about

With age comes wisdom - or so I've heard. But my own experience in life often makes me question that. Still, we'd like to believe that we do learn from our experiences and maybe even become just a wee bit wiser as we get older.

A friend sent me this email of "Lessons that we learn as we age." See if any of them ring a bell with you.


~~~

Age 5:

I've learned that I like my teacher because she cries when we sing "Silent Night."

Age 7:

I've learned that our dog doesn't want to eat my broccoli either.

Age 9:

I've learned that when I wave to people in the country, they stop what they are doing and wave back.

Age 12:

I've learned that just when I get my room the way I like it, Mom makes me clean it up again.

Age 14:

I've learned that if you want to cheer yourself up, you should try cheering someone else up.

Age 15:

I've learned that although it's hard to admit it, I'm secretly glad my parents are strict with me.

Age 24:

I've learned that silent company is often more healing than words of advice.

Age 26:

I've learned that brushing my child's hair is one of life's great pleasures.

Age 29:

I've learned that wherever I go, the world's worst drivers have followed me there.

Age 30:

I've learned that if someone says something unkind about me, I must live so that no one will believe it.

Age 42:

I've learned that there are people who love you dearly but just don't know how to show it.

Age 44:

I've learned that you can make someone's day by simply sending them a little note.

Age 46:

I've learned that the greater a person's sense of guilt, the greater his or her need to cast blame on others.

Age 47:

I've learned that children and grandparents are natural allies.

Age 48:

I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on and it will be better tomorrow.

Age 49:

I've learned that singing "Amazing Grace" can lift my spirits for hours.

Age 50:

I've learned that motel mattresses are better on the side away from the phone.

Age 51:

I've learned that you can tell a lot about a man by the way he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.

Age 52:

I've learned that keeping a vegetable garden is worth a medicine cabinet full of pills.

Age 53:

I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you miss them terribly after they die.

Age 58:

I've learned that making a living is not the same thing as making a life.

Age 61:

I've learned that if you want to do something positive for your children, work to improve your marriage.

Age 62:

I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

Age 64:

I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back.

Age 65:

I've learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you. But if you focus on your family, the needs of others, your work, meeting new people, and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you.

Age 66:

I've learned that whenever I decide something with kindness, I usually make the right decision.

Age 72:

I've learned that everyone can use a prayer.

Age 82:

I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.

Age 90:

I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love that human touch - holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.

Age 92:

I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.

~~~

We all have a lot to learn. Let's keep learning!

Comments

  1. Happy tenth Blogervesery!

    Interesting sayings. I think that many of them could drive an entire blog post or discussion in and of themselves.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I am the worst at remembering these kinds of events. A while ago my 1,000th blog post went by and I didn't realize until I noticed I was at 1,011 - equally worthy to be celebrated or forgotten, it seems to me. Great to read this post, Dorothy. The older I get the more I am reminded of my grandmother's words, "You should learn something new on the day that you die." I hope that will be true for me.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Congrats on 10 years and counting! I think your friend gets a lot right. I once had a cat that liked the broccoli that fell from my son's highchair!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Congrats on ten years! That's amazing! I've only been blogging for six.

    "I've learned that brushing my child's hair is one of life's great pleasures." Not true for me! I've got a special needs child and it's one of the worst things ever. She hates it! But I do feel like the world's worst drivers follow me everywhere....

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I certainly had that feeling (about the drivers) when I was out and about yesterday. It seemed like every other driver on the road had been sent to piss me off!

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters!  Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...