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Forty-five Years ~ Where did they go?
By Jane-Ann Merrill Heitmueller



Who would have thought that we'd be here to celebrate our FORTY-FIFTH year?
When we were seniors, young and bold, we never thought that we'd grow old!
But Mother Nature's played her tricks and Father Time has hit his licks.

What hair we had has now turned gray, or worst than that … it's gone away.
The teenage giggles are no more. Our bodies shift, down toward the floor.
Our once slim torso, quick as a cat, has suddenly just turned to fat.

The porcelain skin, smooth, pink and fine, now has a groove with every line.
Those slim, taut legs once knew no pains, now ache and burn with varicose veins.
Our memory has hopped a train, completely gone … it's left our brain!

Those many objects we can't find are somewhere in our jumbled mind.
If just once more our eyes could see, or ears would hear, we'd laugh with glee.
The middle section on our frame is there for real----this "ain't" no game.

What weird contraptions help us chew. Mine cost a mint, bet yours did too!
We're grandpas, grandmas, moms and pops. To those grandkids we're really tops.
"Where have my glasses gone?" we ask. To find them is a daily task.

I guess they're resting near our shoes we took off just to watch the news.
Instead, our heads began to nod. Now don't you find THAT very odd?
It matters not who cheered the cheer, who made the basket, shed the tear.
Who hit the homer, caught the pass, who dated whom, ran out of gas.

No matter if we passed that test, it's what we've done with all the rest.
Time marches on, as poets say, and so we've made it to this day.
We've lived through happy and through sad, enjoyed the good, survived the bad.
And even though we often jest, we're still among the very best.

So forge ahead with what remains. Forget the wrinkles, aches and pains.
There's just one constant, yours and mine---
WE’RE STILL THE CLASS of '59!


___________________________________

~~Dedicated with love, friendship and wonderful memories to all my classmates~~

__________________________


Jane-Ann Heitmueller and her husband relish a life of retirement from the field of education on their 134-year old, authentically restored German homeplace, Mulberry Farm. A mood of nostalgia and whimsy permeates the writings of this mother of two and grandmother of two as she attempts to reflect upon what are often considered the ordinary, mundane aspects of life, both past and present. Heitmueller's poetry and short stories have been published in newspapers, magazines and books.

Read another of Jane-Ann's poems at USADEEPSOUTH: Why, Granny?

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