The Seven Ages of Man

Posted on May 2nd, 2008 by Motivational Sayings

"There is no old age. There is as there always was, just you" - Carol Matthau

Yesterday, when I visited my dear old Grandad he was in good form - and seemed happy and content. Considering he is now 99 years and 9 months old, and I have been told that due to his organs failing he will survive weeks rather than months, I was pleased and relieved.

I think the main difference for Grandad of late, has been good pain control. Prior to his visit to hosital he was in a lot of discomfort and sometimes in real acute pain - but now a cocktail of carefully given prescribed drugs has meant he can be pain free and yet maintain his alertness. It's a real blessing for him - and me.

Yesterday, to my amazement the nurses told me that he has been insisting on getting up and dressed each day. What a trooper! I think it's his steely determination to get his telegram from the Queen that keeps him going!

On a sad not he did seem a little more confused than usual - but didn't seem distressed by it. He told me lots of things about the past but confused all the name and dates etc. He didn't know he was getting it wrong so I didn't let it worry me. As long as he is comfortable, warm, cared for and happy - then I am happy. He said he's looking forward to meeting God - but not until after his telegram!

I had my camera with me (I can hear you groan!) so I set the timer to take a photo of us together. The timer went off quicker than I expected so there wasn't time to position ourselves for the photograph - but heck, life is never straightforward is it? It's a silly and fun image - so I thought I'd post it regardless - it made me and grandad laugh anyway! He really liked it, so I've got to print a copy for him ASAP apparently.

The Seven Ages of Man - William Shakespeare
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel,
 And shining morning face,
creeping like snail Unwillingly to school.
And then the lover Sighing like furnace,
with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow.
Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth.
And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part.
The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose well sav'd a world too wide For his shrunk shank;
and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound.
Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. 

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