GROWING OLD IS AN EYE-OPENER

It barely misses a day and when it isn't there, I think I have been imagining it all along.  Maybe I'm entering the lost world of dementia or Alzheimer's but I find that hard to imagine with my brain filled with writing, teaching and keeping up with my active family. My friends say "you don't look your age but seldom do they say, "you don't act your age."  They could be telling an untruth.  I hope not.

This intrusive thing I'm talking about is the way younger persons treat me.  "Let me help you with that, honey.  Well here comes grandma," from the mouth of a smart mouth first class jerk. I felt like hitting him with one of my carry-ons but I didn't have the strength to lift it. "Would this table be better for you?"  As I have walked three steps. The waitress' voice can be heard out in the parking lot, "sugar, what would you like to drink?"  I don't answer right away and she turns to my husband, "what does she usually drink?"

And then there are the non-verbal activities--the young man stands there holding the door and I'm just half way across the parking lot. I hurry as much as my Parkinson's and arthritis will allow. Than I feel I must make a silly remark to hide my embarrassment.  There are other times when you wonder if you have become invisible  They pretend you aren't there talking about their gigs and data matter.  Once I spoke up and asked if they had downloaded their 2Gs of data into their new 09 IPhone and they looked at me as if I were from outer space and continued their conversation.

All this to say treat everyone as an individual.  Just because they have gray hair and wobble as they walk, it doesn't mean they are old in their minds. You may be surprised at how much we know that never crossed your mind.  Have a meaningful conversation with a senior citizen today.  You might enjoy it!  And keep calling us honey and sugar and holding doors for us.  We know you mean well, except for the jerk on the airplane!

Darlene Eichler
Writer, Memoirist
Teacher, Blogger

Class Reunions

The first copy of this post "disappeared" from this blog. Strange but not unusual for me!  So here it is again.

Have you been to a class reunion lately? Have you refused to go to a class reunion lately? Some  people have distinct views about going or not going....The majority of the alumni love it and count the days until another rolls around.

I just attended an all fifties reunion in Virginia.  All the classes from the 50s were asked to the "Nifty Fifties" reunion.  It was well attended as most reunions go.  A question has begged for an answer:  Why do the ones who never left the area  not attend the reunions? Wouldn't you think  they would be there with bells on?  Of course the  committees who make the plans and do the work are mostly local.  They are a faithful and dedicated group and deserve all the accolades we can give them.

It has been seventeen years since I was able to attend one.  That is a long time when one  is classed in the "senior citizen" grouping.  I was determined to go this time if had to be pushed in a wheelchair. (I wasn't far from that as Mr. Parkinson reared his ugly head on Thursday evening.) I did not sleep one minute that I was aware of.  Now you ladies know what the lack of sleep does to a woman's eyes and face in general.  Forget that I had been using this expensive renewal cream to make me look younger.  I had been told that it was working and I was pleased.  But a sleepless night took care of that.  As the day drew closer I began to wonder if I had made a good decision to push myself to the limit in order to attend this special reunion.

I had another reason that compelled me forward...I would take my latest book...a children's book and donate half of the profits to he scholarship fund.  There was not a line of people clamoring to buy that book .  It seems that every one's grand kids were too old!  Weren't there young greats?  But I made it up in  my other books and was able to donate a nice amount to the fund.

And in closing I would like to give a one sentence observation of class reunions.  Go with an open mind, expecting to have a great time but don't be crushed if that special high school boy friend doesn't recognize you!

Darlene Bays Eichler
Dublin High School Class of 1956

















































Readers, I found a paper copppy of this post tht went missing.  So now w have two posts about the class reunoesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssin