A Tale of Ageing Romance.

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I thought that I would just share with you today an amusing and true story.

It is never too late for romance, is it?

Back in the late 1970’s, my Grandad was in a Residential Home for the Elderly. He was a bit of a loner, loved his own company and his pastime was reading and listening to the radio.

His room overlooked a block of flats, and he started to notice a lady come out onto her balcony every day to feed the birds. One day she looked up and saw Grandad watching her, and waved.  After a while, waving to one another every day became a routine

Then one day, she wasn’t there. Day after day he would look out of the window in the hopes of seeing her again. But it never happened.

One day he went to the dining room for his lunch, and a new lady was sitting opposite to him at the table.

It was her!!!

They now became good friends, and because neither of them wanted the entertainment and jollity of the Residents Lounge, they took to visiting one another in their respective rooms.

Humans beings love a gossip, and soon my Grandad and his beloved friend became the centre of gossip in the Home. One day Grandad was called to the “Matrons” office.¬†“I was on the mat again,” he said. This was his way of describing it. He was always a bit of a rebel, and he used to be forever “On the mat in front of Matron!”

He was asked to please stop visiting this lady in her room, as it was causing quite a lot of unrest in the Home. But they both knew their rights and stuck to their guns. All they wanted to do was talk about their views of life and be in each others company as the good friends that they had become. In the quietness and privacy of their own rooms.

While at home one evening, when I answered the phone, there was the Matron. My mother was living 300 miles away, and the Matron could not get hold of her. But she was in a panic, because;

Grandad had gone out in the morning in a taxi, and come back with a special licence to get married the very next day!

I immediately phoned my Auntie, who was married to Grandads son, and we decided that we had better go into the Registry office to be witnesses to this wedding. The bride was 80, and the bridegroom was 81.

So there we were, in the registry office the next morning, all four of us, but even though we had contacted my Mother and her brother, it was too late for anyone to be there, who did not live in the immediate vicinity. Matron was devastated as she would have put on a “bit of a do.”

As it was, we left the registry office, my grandad sat on the wall outside and said that perhaps we could all go and get some pasties! That was their wedding reception.

But, although they did not do things the way that everyone else thought they should, they were happy, and Matron moved them into a double room together. Their chairs were near enough so that they could hold hands and watch TV. They both had about two years of married life, companionship and above all as far as Grandad was concerned, they had “Put paid to the gossip,”

Grandad was a rebel, and he was a good example of thinking for yourself and getting his needs met. He knew what he wanted, and got it. He used to say; I will never be happy without my beloved wife and Mother of my children, but I will always be content.

I like to think that in his last days, with his woman friend beside him, he at least glimpsed happiness on top of his contentment.

I would love to hear any stories you may have of people you know who found romance and companionship in the older years.

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What Are You Nourishing?

 

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The Law of Attraction dictates that we attract to us from the Universe, that which we think about and feel most.

Therefore, if you feel loving, forgiving, want to spread peace, want to be happy, the world will benefit from that, and so will each individual.

But we need to remember that the same goes for hatred, unforgiveness and fear. So be careful of what you could be spreading.

It is a vicious circle.

Break the circle of fear, and join the circle of love.

Nourish the world with love and starve it of the fear.

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