I have lost all the things that really mattered to me.
Now I sit with my aide here, watching daytime TV.
But it's not, no it's not, so bad.
My two sons come to visit me occasionally.
Mitch and Len, with the grand kids, and they say this to me:
"Mom, it's not, no it's not, so bad."
In the dining hall, the others greet me with their eyes.
Some are almost friends, while others I despise.
Some eat without their teeth, and those I try so hard to ignore.
Thank god the really messy ones live up on the Alzheimer's floor.
When it's warm, I can sit outside and look at a tree.
When it rains, I glue pasta shapes on wood in O.T.
So it's not, oh it's not, so bad.
Once upon a time, I was married to a man named Sam Gold.
He was kind to me, but then he died and I got old.
I was fine for awhile, but then I left a pot of rice on the stove.
Len and Mitch said, "Mom, it's time to sell the house and move
you to Sheltered Cove."
And some day, you may be someplace like this, just like me.
And the life you live now will be a vague memory.
So have a drink, and please think, it's not so bad.
Have a drink, try to think, It's not so bad.
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