My Lifelong Inspiration. . . .

Many, many years ago, I ran across a tattered piece of paper, while vising my Grandmother's house, in Pennsylvania. On it, in her carefully elegant handwriting, was the following poem. . .

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick the flowers in other peoples' gardens

And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickles for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

. . . . . . . .

For years, I believed that my Grandmother had written that poem. . . .because it speaks of just how I remember her living her life. She was a free spirit; could make me laugh convulsively; was independent, stubborn, and strong; and lived life aways on her own terms. She was who I wanted to be when I grew up.

Of course, I have since come to know that the poem was written by one Jenny Joseph, and not by my dear Grandmother. I still love it. And I still love her, too, some 40+ years after her passing.

I want to be the Grandmother who wears purple and teaches the wonders of mud puddles and chocolate ice cream before dinner. God willing, there are adventures that lie ahead. . . . .!