February 2016
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    Letter- A Senility Prayer


    God, grant me the Senility to forget the people I never liked anyway, the good fortune to run into the ones that I do, and the eyesight to tell the difference.
    Now that I’m older, here’s what I’ve discovered:
    • I started out with nothing, and I still have most of it.
    • My wild oats have turned into the prunes and all bran.
    • I finally got my head together; now my body is falling apart.
    • Funny, I don’t remember being absent minded…
    • All reports are in; Life is now officially unfair.
    • If all is not lost, where is it.
    • It is easier to get older than it is to get wiser.
    • Some days you’re the dog; some days you’re the hydrant.
    • I wish the buck stopped here; I sure could use a few.
    • Kids in the back seat cause accidents.
    • Accidents in the back seat cause …kids.
    • It’s hard to make a comeback when you haven’t been anywhere.
    • Only time the world beats a path to your door is when you’re in the bathroom.
    • If God wanted me to touch my toes, he would have put them on my knees.
    • It’s not hard to meet expenses….they’re everywhere.
    • The only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth.
    • These days, I spend a lot of time thinking about the hereafter … I go somewhere to get something, and then wonder what I’m hereafter.

    Author Unknown but we thought you might like this.

    Depressed Not Demented


    I talk to the man in his long white coat,
    While others stand and glare and gloat,

    They look at me as if I’m mad,
    Do they not know it’s me just sad,

    What pills and potions will they push in me,
    Why is it that they just can’t see?

    My words come out but they just don’t hear,
    Do they not know my world is full of fear,

    Why don’t they listen to the words I say,
    I’d bet it would be different if I had to pay,

    Why can’t they tell me what is going wrong,
    Why can’t they give me a pill that makes me strong,

    These troubled days are all struggle and strife,
    What is this thing that scares my life.

    Author: Gordon Boyle




    Loneliness can feel like ice,
    Always cold and never nice,

    You slip and slide from place to place,
    And always feel its cold embrace,

    Time stands still, then races by,
    It does not care how much you cry,

    Its cold dark grip will hold you tight,
    Always dark and never bright,

    You look around from face to face,
    Even deeper, you feel disgrace,

    You try to fight, but seldom win,
    What have you done, this mortal sin,

    It holds you tight with bony hand,
    You stand alone upon this land,

    Search for a hand, to hold on tight,
    A hand to hold and make it right,

    A little warmth to melt the ice,
    A little warmth, at any price,

    Will it come, I do not know,
    I need the warmth, to let my feelings show

    Author: Gordon Boyle