I visited with an 87 year old feisty friend last week. I love seeing her and listening to her share about her life's experiences and views on the world. She shared the following with me, an email from a friend. I liked it.
"One day I had a date for lunch with friends. Mae, a little old "blue hair" about 80 years old, came along with them; all in all, it was a pleasant bunch. When the menus were presented, we ordered salads, sandwiches, and soups, except for Mae who said, "Ice cream, please. Two scoops, chocolate."
I wasn't sure my ears heard right, and the others were aghast.
"Along with heated apple pie," Mae added, completely unabashed.
We tried to act quite nonchalant, as if people did this all the time.
But when our orders were brought out, I didn't enjoy mine.
I couldn't take my eyes off Mae as her pie a-la-mode went down.
The other ladies showed dismay. They ate their lunches silently and frowned.
The next time I went out to eat, I called and invited Mae.
I lunched on white meat tuna. She ordered a parfait.
I smiled. She asked if she amused me.
I answered, "Yes, you do, but you also confuse me."
How come you order rich desserts, while I feel I must be sensible?
She laughed and said, with wanton mirth, "I'm tasting all that is possible."
I try to eat the food I need, and do the things I should.
But life's so short, my friend, I hate missing out on something good.
"This year I realized how old I was. (She grinned.) I haven't been this old before. So, before I die, I've got to try those things that for years I had ignored.
I haven't smelled all the flowers yet. There are too many books I haven't read. There's more sundaes to wolf down and kites to be flown overhead.
There are many malls I haven't shopped. I've not laughed at all the jokes.
I've missed a lot of Broadway hits and potato chips and cokes.
I want to wade again in the water and feel ocean spray on my face.
I want to sit in a country church once more and thank God for His grace.
I want peanut butter every day spread on my morning toast.
I want un-timed long distance calls to the folks I love the most.
I haven't cried at all the movies yet, or walked in the morning rain.
I need to feel the wind in my hair. I want to fall in love again.
So, if I choose to have dessert, instead of having dinner, then should I die before night fall, I'd say I died a winner, because I missed out on nothing. I filled my heart's desire. I had that final chocolate mousse before my life expired."
With that, I called the waitress over. "I've changed my mind," I said. "I want what she is having, only add some more whipped cream!"
