I wasn’t gonna blog tonight, but I was chided a little, so I thought I’d respond. You know it’s just a bit of good natured ribbing my friends give me, but I took the comments on the chin and decided I wanted to say something. I do the same thing. If I pick on you, it means I like you🙂 So, there was no harm done, just a matter of recognition I wanted to remark upon.
You see, I’m watching “Murder, She Wrote,” at the moment….and later on, I’ll be watching “The Golden Girls” as I head to bed. (I go to sleep watching them, it helps me feel better). And I was caught earlier this week with an afghan tossed over my shoulder like a shawl when the temp got to around 68 as I was knit furiously, and I heard Kara say, “You sure do love your little old ladies.”
You’re damned right, I do. People can be mean and aggressive, hateful and spiteful. The world can come down hard on you and beat you to a pulp. So, yeah, when in need of comfort I like to spend time with little old ladies because they make me feel better. They provide comfort. They’ve tended to husbands, kids, and grand children, and didn’t ask for much in return. They cooked, they cleaned, they hugged, they gave advise when asked for it, and they never asked for anything in return. Loving you, and caring for you, and making sure you were fine was all that they needed. And all the while, knitting up something to keep you warm (or quilting you a blanket, thank you, Janice!).
There is no other soul I can imagine running to when in need of safety, and no other soul is more deserving of acknowledgement than they.
But, sadly, like so many heroes, they’re never given the prominence they deserve. And why? Because they don’t demand it. They don’t insist upon it. They give of themselves and give of themselves, and hoping you are warm, fed and well is their only reward. Their only concern is YOUR concern. I can’t imagine how it happens, but throughout life they become selfless. Something we can all learn from. (See how little old ladies do that? You learn from them without even knowing it).
I’ll spend my evenings in the comforting care of little old ladies. I’ll join along with my knitting, shawl over shoulder (ball cap and boots protruding. Fine, I’ll be the redneck little old lady in the group…but, I refuse to chew tobacco).
Seriously, though, I can’t think of a kinder company to be in than the wise wisdom of these women. They provide a kindness that the modern world forgets.
So, hell yes, I spend my late evenings with my little old ladies. Because when things get dark, when the twitter world grows, when Facebook, and bad drivers, and tax collectors, and charge backs on your account fill your day with a dreadful doom, little old ladies keep me safe.
I’m not only happy to acknowledge them, but proud to say I’m something of an honoree. I got my knitting, I got my shawl, let’s go!
….besides, they must be doing something right, because they outlive everyone. Cheers, ladies!
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