October 28, 2021
“Life comes from physical survival; but the good life comes from what we care about.”
I hope this finds you in good health and happy. I am doing well, a lot of that is because of the affection I get from my wife when I visit her. While she has dementia she still has fond memories of our sixty-eight years of marriage. But if the truth be told it is also the comradery offered by so many of the folks here at the Forum, the senior residence where I now reside. I am the beneficiary of a staff that provides us good food, entertainment and plenty of things to do. I only hope you life is as joyful as mine is.
A recipe for joyful living
Keep cheerful friends.
Never let the brain idle.
Enjoy the simple things.
Laugh often, long and loud.
Laugh until you gasp for breath.
The only person who is with us our entire life, is ourselves.
Be alive while you are alive.
Surround yourself with what you love, whether it’s family, pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever.
Your home is your refuge.
Cherish your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.
Don’t take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, to the next county, to a foreign country, but NOT to where the guilt is.
Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.
And always remember: Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
“The good life is a process, not a state of being. It is a direction not a destination.”
There once was a religious young woman who went to confession. Upon entering the confessional she said, “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” The priest said, “Confess your sins and be forgiven.” The young woman said, “Last night my boyfriend made made passionate love to me seven times.” The priest thought long and hard and then said, “Squeeze seven lemons into a glass and then drink the juice.” The young woman asked, “Will this cleanse me of my sins?” The Priest said “No, but it will wipe that smile off of your face!”
“If you have knowledge, let others light their candles in it.”
Shirley lives in Brooklyn, yet she does keep up with the rest of the country, as an example she sent us this:
One or our local rednecks, Billy Joebob, while a total idiot, was a gifted portrait artist. His fame grew and soon people from all over the country were coming to him for paintings.
One day, a beautiful young woman pulled up to his house in a stretch limo. She asked Billy Joebob if he could paint her in the nude. This was the first time anyone had made this request. The beautiful lady said money was no object, she was willing to pay $50,000.
Not willing to get into trouble with his wife, Billy Joebob asked the lady to wait while he went in the house and conferred with this wife. In a few minutes he returned and told the lady he was willing to do it. However, he would have to leave his socks on so he would have some place to wipe his brushes.
“Imagination is the highest kite one can fly.”
She said: I have changed my system for labeling homemade freezer meals. I used to carefully note in large clear letters, “Meatloaf” or “Pot Roast” or “Steak and Vegetables or “Chicken and Dumplings” or “Beef Pot Pie.”
However, I used to get frustrated when I asked my husband what he wanted for dinner because he never asked for any of those things. So, I decided to stock the freezer with what he really likes.
If you look in my freezer now you’ll see a whole new set of labels. You’ll find dinners with neat little tags that say: “Whatever,” “Anything,” “I Don’t Know,” “I Don’t Care,” “Something Good,” or “Food.” My frustration is now reduced because no matter what my husband replies when I ask him what he wants for dinner, I know that it is there waiting.
“It is indeed ironic that we spend our school days yearning to graduate and our remaining days waxing nostalgic about our school days.”
After bumping his head on our stereo cabinet, my 11-year-old-son, Felix, required stitches. While the doctor was administering a local anesthetic to his head, I started to feel faint, so the nurse offered me a chair.
My son winced with every stitch, and the nurse told him it was okay to cry. On the way home, my husband asked Felix if he had heard the nurse tell him it was okay to cry. “Yeah, I heard her,” Felix replied, “but I thought she was talking to Mom.”
Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes.
Doug meets Bill at the bar after work and is once again looking down in the dumps. “What’s wrong now Doug,” asked Bill.
Doug replies, “They called in a management team and gave everyone in the office an aptitude test to see what they were best suited for.”
“Yeah, so what’s the problem with that?” asks Bill.
Doug sighs, “Well it seems that I am best suited for unemployment.”
“Intentional living is the art of making our own choices before others’ choices make us.”
Management is not responsible for duplicates from previous dailies. The editor is somewhat senile.
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