Bobbie's Beat: The semi-serious to the semi-sappy


Okay folks, you know I have to write about what is foremost in my head (or my heart). You also may recall that I have carried a small agate rock around for years. I call it my Gratitude Rock, and it has grown smooth from being handled by me. It goes from pocket to pocket, to bathroom counter top, to bedside table and, when I was still driving, this little rock was always somewhere visible. 

There is nothing magic about it, except it’s a very good reminder to switch from negative to positive thinking — and don’t we all know there is an abundance of the really negative awful-awful going on all over the planet that causes the following feelings: anxiety, anger, frustration, fear and worry to name just a few. 

This gratitude practice never fails. Knowing I had to get a column written, I rolled the rock around in my hand last night at bedtime, and bingo, a timely subject for today. 

Since I am now legally blind, live alone and don’t drive, I’m extremely grateful for friends. I do believe if you spend your life helping others you will reap the following: “What goes around, comes around.”

I just read your thoughts: “Hmm, if she can’t see, it’s probably a good thing she quit driving!” I started counting the people who have been helping me and ran out of fingers — getting a flu shot, a COVID-19 test necessary for a medical procedure in Corvallis. Tomorrow I go for a retina injection, and next week, dental care. All this is not even counting the friends who deliver groceries to my porch, or the neighbor who brings my mail and newspaper, or the friend who occasionally drops off a “take out meal.” 

You all know of the young woman who handles my financials, but I’ve never mentioned the gentleman who does “guy stuff” around here that I can no longer see to do, or lift. I would love to list all the names but am afraid of leaving someone out, and not everyone wants their name in the paper.

Since many of you write asking about Purrfect, here is a brief cat report. She has grown bored with many of her kittenish capers but continues with her favorites, such as racing me to the bedroom where the numbered boxes are right where they have been for over a year. Purrfect will leap into box number three and sit there, giving me the look that says, “Well?” I then walk across the room and point to box two, and she will often get there before I do. Then I head for box number one, and she races to jump into that one where she waits for me to make a big fuss and applaud like an idiot.  

What grown woman acts like this? Well, me I guess. She still hops on the walker, which I use like a wheelbarrow for heavy stuff. Purrfect will stand with her front feet on the back rail of the walker just like the young lovers at the bow of the Titanic. This stupid game never fails to crack me up as I push the walker all over the house.

Now that my rock has done its job, let us get to the day brightener, submitted by Patty and Ken Grover, of Eugene.

       

The local news station was interviewing an 80-year-old lady because she had just gotten married for the fourth time. The interviewer asked her questions about her life, about what it felt like to be marrying again at 80 and then about her new husband’s occupation. “He’s a funeral director,” she answered.

Interesting, the newsman thought, then asked her if she wouldn’t mind telling him a little more about her first three husbands and what they did for a living. She paused for a few moments to reflect on all those years. After a short time, a smile came to her face and she answered proudly, explaining that she had first married a banker when she was in her 20s, then a circus ringmaster when in her 40s, and a preacher when in her 60s, and now, in her 80s, a funeral director. The interviewer looked at her quite astonished and asked why she had married four men with such diverse careers.

(Wait for it.)

She smiled and explained, “I married one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready and four to go!”

       

At the end of this thigh-slapper from the Grovers, it says, “Oh, just hush up and share this with somebody who needs a laugh today.”

I just did.

Bobbie Lippman is a professional writer who lives in Seal Rock with her cat, Purrfect. She is the author of “Good Grief: A Collection of Stories As One Woman Journeys From Heartbreak To Healing Through Honesty and Humor.” The book, with all proceeds going to the Rotary International Foundation, is available at JC Market in Newport and directly from Bobbie, who can be contacted at [email protected]

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