Morning Cuppas With Glenys : aging

Showing posts with label aging. Show all posts

Thank goodness for my snazzy wheelchair!

So today I handed in my driving licence. Sitting here tonight, the enormity of my decision and resultant actions gave me pause to think.

The fact that I have torn ligaments in both knees meant that I no longer have enough strength to apply the brakes or accelerator. I have become a danger to myself and others.

With constant brain fog from fibromyalgia as well, I felt it was time to stop driving.

Vic Roads sent me paperwork to have my doctor and optometrist clear me to keep driving as I suffer from type 2 diabetes and that can effect the eyes.

I was going to get this done but then I realised that my eyes are not the only risk when I drive- my knees not working is as great a risk.

So instead of going to get my eyes checked, I decided to just stop driving. As I said, I handed my licence into Vic Roads.

And now, I am sitting wondering if I have done the right thing- yet I know I really had no choice.

There is always the option of walking around if I have no one to drive me somewhere... it is known as shanks as pony- using one's legs as the mode of transport.

Herein lies the problem with that- there is no shanks as pony, because I can't walk with torn ligaments that can't be fixed.

I hadn't thought much about it until now, but here it is- no driver, no car, no money- and sadly now, no shanks as pony!

Thank goodness for my snazzy wheelchair!

To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven: Ecclesiastes 3:1

A warm embrace.

I owe myself an apology.
For all the times I promised to forgive myself, only to bring it up again later.

For clipping the wings of my own dreams before they even had a chance to take flight.

For thinking so little of myself at the very moments I should have been standing up for myself.

For the lies I swallowed while starving for truth.

For believing that all the glass I walked on as a child was ever my fault.

For withholding from myself the same grace and second chances I so freely give others.

For allowing the world to convince me that my heart was both too much and not enough.

For all the days wasted pretending to be someone I hoped you would accept.

For not living my life more on my own terms, simply because I was afraid of making a mistake.

For punishing myself for far too long.

For believing love was bloody and painful, and that I didn’t deserve better.

For every time I looked in the mirror and hated who I saw.

I could sit here listing every reason and way I was wronged by others, but maybe more than anything, I owe myself an apology for not valuing this one, beautifully precious life of mine enough to know I’m worthy of greatness, the very best of everything.

And for that, I am sorry. Author unknown

I cried when I read this. I had a very traumatic and abusive childhood. At sixteen, I got engaged and became pregnant soon after, and married a man who started abusing me badly before the ink had dried on the marriage certificate.

I doted on my children for in them I saw someone who would love me.

In spite of the abuse, I stayed with him for the children's sake. At least they would have a happy childhood.

I hated myself because I was taught that I was unloveable and nothing I did pleased anyone anyway.

And now, looking back on my life, I realise that I took on too much, trying to make sure that no one else suffered the pain I felt from childhood until today.

My present husband is loving... however two of my four children are not. Some of my grandchildren love me and half don't.

And now at 71 years, I realise that it doesn't matter. I am happy in my own skin. Loved by some and especially loved by God.

Nothing was my fault in spite of being blamed for everything that went wrong all my life.

And so, I have learned to comfort the little girl who sought love and peace and who learned the 91st Psalm and prayed it every night to get to sleep.

It was not my fault that my mother took out her frustrations on me, hating that I was actually quite strong and therefore was a threat to her subjugation of us all.

And now, I have decided to forgive those who made me feel inadequate, unloved and stupid.I am too old and sick to carry that burden anymore...

The past has gone far too quickly- I cannot ruin my final years dragging that chain of regret and unforgiveness.

And as I forgave my parents and ex-husband for their abuse, I found a calm and peace as the burden was lifted off my shoulders.

And looking at my reflection in the mirror, I realised that I had to also forgive my younger self for not being stronger and more resilient. I hated her when she was in fact strong and I feel sad that I let her bear the brunt of hate and disrespect for as long as she did...

The reflection in the mirror looked back at me, and smiled and accepted my forgiveness...and my love.

I wrapped my arms around myself and embraced her warmly....

"He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.." Psalm 91... words that comforted my younger self...

Our home: our haven

The last few days have seen me taking a renewed interest in cooking and house management.. it's been a time of feeling incredibly blessed.

Our home nurtures us so much. It is so comforting to be here, away from the hustle and bustle of life and just snuggling in here.

I have just turned 71 and I can honestly say that contentment and joy have caught me by surprise!

The longings for adventure and new experiences has waned and I am truly content just following my basic routines and pacing myself between tasks.

In an effort to keep feeling peace in our home, I have stopped viewing news videos regarding the end days and I can say it has worked.

As I work on my computer, I have scriptures or some form of worship music playing.

I am waiting on the LORD to come for us and while I wait, I keep guard on what exactly comes into our home.

I pray a lot that God will keep me in perfect peace because as the wife in our home, my moods and attitudes shape not only my day, but Chris's

Peace is the first thing to go and it's not necessarily from the words we speak. Attitudes speak volumes.

Our home can be a haven from the world for us and we should try to make it a clean and comfortable place that shields us from the world... Our home is indeed our haven

I will walk within my house with a perfect heart.. Psalm 101:2

She's still the same girl

So it's my 71st birthday in a few days and my best friend Ann came to visit me. It was a visit of mutual tears and laughter and reminiscing about days of the past.

We have been friends since we were 11 years old and as we sipped our tea and coffee we joked about how 61 years of friendship has outlasted most marriages these days...

A new grandmother, Ann lamented how she hates being old and wonders if she will even live to see her grandbaby turn 21... and we cried.

We cried that I don't think I will be here when her next grandbaby is born and that the shawl I am making for her daughter might not get to her if I don't finish it soon. I want her to have one for her other daughter's future baby like the first one has..

We laughed about things that happened at school, and cried about trials we both had during our 71 years of life. And we nearly choked on our coffees laughing about the agonies of aging but how the alternative didn't look too promising either!

Our emotions were rollercoasting madly, but then there was a lot of reminiscing and the viscitudes of life were a tad sporadic over 61 years of reliving those days...

We talked about God's answers to particular prayers we had petitioned God for in our families and we recommitted those people to Him...And we thanked God for our friendship.

In parting, we realised how blessed we are to have a true close friend and we marvelled that 5 hours had passed in the visit that went quickly, and we exclaimed that we had had a very fun afternoon.

As I saw Ann off and she smiled and waved as she drove away, I had a flash back of the young girl I used to study with. A few changes in appearance for sure, but she's till the same dear girl I grew up with...

A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly: And there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.- Proverbs 18:24

I refuse to stay in the Pit of Despair!

Depression is often related to one having a sense of loss to something dear to them. In my case I am grieving the loss of my adult children's affection and the feeling that to them I am already dead. I have been tossed out like an old shoe.

Second is the fact that they aren't very nice people and I suspect that one way or the other, I have failed as a mum...

So I had a time of prayer and during that I felt that as far as mothering goes, how they now act as adults is not my fault. I know now that God knows I did bring them all up in the faith and they were taught to be honest and decent people.

I have now decided that I will not stress about not seeing my new great granddaughter or even grandchildren... it is pointless to bond with them when I wont probably see them... I will not waste my last few years waiting for a word from them or even acknowledgement that I exist... if they cared, they would call

So now I am going to move forward and enjoy as much as possible those who do love me and want me in their life...

The hardest lesson I think was to realise that my love for them is not reciprocated and I am not important or valued much in their life at all. It's a bitter pill but once taken, it helps alleviate the grief of unrequited love...

So I am going to move forward and start thinking of positive things, like Chris and those in my family who do love me...

Another lesson was that even though I have no expectation of a relationship and have pulled back to stop hurting, it does not mean I don't love them... it just has to be from afar as they are toxic to me. At this stage of my life, I just need peace. And that doesn't mean I am selfish...

I refuse to stay in the Pit of Despair!

Cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength faileth. Psalm 71:9

Our gracious God

When we get older we often lament our mistakes and wrong choices, and I know that these regrets are not confined to the elderly- we all have them.

It is comforting for me to remember that our God is a God of grace and mercy. He is quick to forgive and then forgets...

We are loved immensely in spite of our foibles and mistakes.. what a wonderfully gracious God we serve...

Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you, and therefore he exalts himself to show mercy to you. For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for him. Isaiah 30:18

Whatsoever things

As I got older, I became morose and sad. My good years were behind me. Chronic illness overtook my and I resented it so much. It turned inward and made me sink into a depression.

I overcame this by deciding to accept my limitations and to love myself enough to rest, eat well and be grateful for the very fact that I was still alive.

I didn't want to stay in the Pit of Despair, so I gave all my anger and sadness to the LORD. I decided to look at whatsoever things were lovely, and to count my blessings..

This helped me recover spiritually and emotionally. I didn't realise how much my self talk and negativity had brought me down.

If you want to fly, you have to release your burdens so they don't weigh you down, so tell the LORD about it, for it is He Who will release you and help you fly.

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. Philippians 4:8

Help until He comes

Today was a busy day in that I was organising aged care help for Chris and I ... we arent coping all that well... lots of phone calls that had me on hold for at least an hour each

After nearly a whole day on the phone, I am happy to report that we were approved for help. Our aged care home package will start in 3-4 weeks. It includes transport, home maintenance, podiatry, and grass cutting. Later on as we get older it will include meals on wheels... but as long as I can cook, we would prefer our own cuisine.

I am hoping that God takes us Home soon. That is the best thing to dwell on. But meanwhile, while we wait, my house could do with a deep clean, our toenails are feral and we need them properly done. We cant take a bath and we help each other shower but a grip bar and telephone type shower have been promised to us under home maintenance, and that would stop the suffocation feeling of water pouring over our head when we can't breathe at the best of times..

We cant drive most times and we will need transport for a personal consultation with our doctor and the help they offer is needed now. Nothing to do with lack of faith or not watching- but we have to be practical.

Heart failure is a beast that stalks us both and is a progressive disease. Peripheral neuropathy in our feet and legs is a constant pain that stops sleep. A physiotherapist may be able to help or offer exercises to alleviate it.. all things that need attention now.

Including last but not least, changed bed linen that can be done without banging gnarled fingers and hands... and while we look with anticipation and longing to be Home, the daily necessities of life are calling.

We rely on God to help us and are grateful that He has blessed us with the help we need...until He comes. Our life style is always if the LORD wills.... we consider ourselves blessed that we are eligible for the help that's come our way, until He comes! God willing, it will be soon. But if not, we will be accepting help to keep going until He comes.

" So teach [us] to number our days, that we may apply [our] hearts unto wisdom" Psalm 90:12

We have to talk

So I am aging, overweight, have had over 50 kidney stones and 5 surgeries to remove them when they were impacted, and have given birth to 6 children.

Because of this, I used to find that a sneeze could have disastrous results, causing me embarrassment and discomfort as I wet myself. So much so, that I went to a physiotherapist who taught me how to exercise my pelvic floor using Kegel exercises. They helped me quite a lot.

Nothing else has changed - one cannot change the past- but the only difference was my consistent Kegel exercising. This is for men as well as women, I was told. Anyway, I recommend them to everyone who has stress incontinence.

However, as much as Kegels have helped me, I have noticed that when I am in a flare of fibromyalgia, often I rediscover the joys of stress incontinence.

It seems to me that fibromyalgia weakens my muscles in my pelvic floor and causes lack of control of the bladder. Just another problem fibro brings that many don't recognise or talk about.

I have purchased some undergarments that absorb urine yet look like normal underwear I wear them when I am in a fibromyalgia flare, and they do a great job. (There are similar ones for men) It seems lately as I am in almost a constant state of flaring, that I am wearing them more often.

It's just another pain for us Fibromites to endure, and I hope by sharing about this, it helps you if you have the same problem. It's nothing to be ashamed of and it's something we need to talk about.

Thrown out like an old shoe.

As you know, I have just turned 70. It has been a rough ride yet filled with lots of joy and blessings.

A lot of the joy in my life has been my children, grandchildren and now great-grandchildren. I loved everything related to motherhood...

I had four children under five years and it was a very busy time. Especially with illness that lodged at our house in the form of my spinal disease, glandular fever and depression.

As a mother at 19, I accepted the responsibility of motherhood and I brought up 4 children under 5. At the tender age of 39, I welcomed my first grandchild into the world. I cared for her during her first year due to her mother being unwell with post natal depression.

As my children and now adult grandchildren grew, I was still involved in their lives if I was wanted. And I was wanted, or so I thought.

I thought I was a caring, loving woman who gave kind and solid advice if asked. I did my best to help and support them in times of trouble. I cried for them. I prayed for them.

Recently, I have noticed a drop off of contact, both personal and by phone or computer. I am texted for my birthday, Christmas and other occasions of interest like Mother's Day.

I long for them to just drop in and sit and have a cuppa. It rarely happens. Not like when we regularly had lunch or a cuppa together, but since Chris and I are now unable to leave home due to not being able to walk or drive, we don't.

I see now that a lot of this is because they have to come to us now, not us go to them. We're an inconvenience.

It hurts. It isn't easy to sit alone reminiscing about your younger days, loving your now grown children and grandchildren and being passed over and ignored.

It hurts that because of health issues in old age, one is condemned to days of loneliness and longing for the phone to ring or a text on social media.

And social media sometimes is employed simply as a way of following family and saving pictures of them and their children. At least one feels that there's still some connection.

Knowing that you gave your best years to your family with little to show in return brings a real wave of sadness- because you know you would do it again if given the chance.

But there's no second chance in old age. One is forgotten as the world turns on the axis of youth. The elderly are ostracised and abandoned... thrown out like an old shoe.

Cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength faileth. Psalm 71:9

Dead tired

A woman who suffers from a chronic illness or disability often finds herself at the end of "normals'" ideas of being tired. We are often looked at with contempt for being so tired that we can't perform our daily duties properly. Or that we have to go to bed early, rise late, or cancel social engagements at the last minute. We are not lazy.

Before Corona, we were regarded with suspicion when we couldn't make it to church regularly and people harshly judged our spiritual health, deeming us backslidden. Emotional and spiritual hurt exacerbates our ill state. We feel worse and they lack compassion.

Often we have to cancel doctors' appointments because we are too sick to get there. We find we can't drive and even if we could, we haven't got the strength to even get washed and dressed. It is not unheard of that some of us have crumpled in the shower, unable to get out and totally winded...

Our "tired" goes far beyond a sleepiness or drowsy feeling. We are so fatigued that breathing is too much effort and not for the first time we are grateful it's automatic.

Furthermore, our "tired" is not helped by a nanna nap or even 9 hours of sleep. We fight our illness and pain even in our dreams and wake up unrefreshed and have to face another day when we haven't recuperated from the day before. We simply have run out of spoons.

"Tired" is overused and doesn't come close to the bone sucking quagmire of desperate fatigue we chronically ill people find ourselves sinking into constantly. To have "normals" flippantly say, "Me too!" when we tell them we are tired invalidates us and makes us long for their brand of tiredness that can be restored through a good sleep.

We cannot even enjoy a shower or bath to help us sleep as the effort it takes to do this not only drains us of whatever energy we can find, but does not always bring a restorative sleep. Just muscle pain.

Such is my own pain on going to bed that I find I cannot place my arms anywhere comfortable. My fibromyalgia and polymyalgia rheumatica make it impossible to raise my arms upwards and extending them hurts my muscles and tendons. So I go to sleep with my arms folded on my chest.

I indeed look like a cadaver which has been laid out and testifies somewhat to the feeling of being dead in my tracks. Because that's the type of exhaustion we face every day: we truly feel dead tired.

Cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength faileth. Psalm 71:9

Giving the gift of time well spent

As most of you who follow my blogs know, Chris and I not enjoying the best of health. We both are currently battling heart failure, diabetes and obesity brought on by the inactivity that comes with pain and age.

Gradually as the maladies make themselves more known and felt, we are aware that we probably won't make it to our 80th year.

Lately we have written a will and talked to our adult children of our final wishes. Unable to bear being apart, we have decided that we both want to be buried together, and to this end, we are currently getting information about prepaid funerals and plots of land at our local cemetery.

We have discussed Do not rescusitate orders and made our wishes known to our children. They were hesitant to talk about these matters, but we assured them that we need to sort it out, afterwhich we won't talk about it.

My stents in my heart are 15 years old and I am told I need new ones inserted, but I have refused them as the previous 2 angiograms injured me. I simply don't want to have more surgery.

Chris and I have made the choice that there won't be any more harmful surgeries. If I have a bad heart attack I do not want to be rescusitated.

I am ready for Jesus to either take me in the Rapture or call me Home. Either way is OK.

Chris is in really bad health with his own heart failure. I am aware of how little time we may have and I don't want to waste it.

So I am on the computer about an hour instead of all day. I have culled most groups etc but have not culled my friends.

Chris promised me he will update if I go Home. We just cant bear any more hospitals and tests etc- especially when they have done me harm in the past.

I am trusting the LORD instead of man and for the one who is left behind, we are giving the gift of time well spent.

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints. Psalm 116:15

When the fog clears, tea's on the list.

Recently I have been having trouble remembering things. At nearly 70, I worry about dementia and think that maybe I am going down that path.

But in talking with people who suffer from fibromyalgia like I do, I realise that fibro brain fog can make one forgetful. Especially during flares.

Having just moved house about 6 weeks ago, I am just starting to recover physically. I have a flare that is pretty constant with no spoons and I do forget things. And words mid sentence.

I don't think me forgetting to order tea in the online grocery order really means I have dementia. I guess fibromyalgia flares can do that.

Looking through Marketplace the other day, someone was selling a bassinette identical to the one I had for my 4 children. It brought back memories like they were only yesterday.

But that didn't make me feel very at ease about my forgetfulness because dementia robs one of short term memory. But then so does fibromyalgia.

Considering all my previous times of brain fog during a flare, and my subsequent good memory, I surmised that it was not dementia, but brain fog from said flare.

I believe when the flare abates, and the fog clears, I will remember the tea in next week's shopping list.

We aren't just tired: we're dead tired

Our "tired" goes far beyond a sleepiness or drowsy feeling. We are so fatigued that breathing is too much effort and not for the first time we are grateful it's automatic.

Cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength faileth. Psalm 71:9

Only precious to us

Have you wondered why old ladies are always talking about the past, boring you with endless stories of their family? Every birthday, Nana or Grandma recounts the birth of your father or uncle or mother? or even you.

Are you bored with hearing about how hard life was in the Depression of the 30's and how they never had many labour saving devices and appliances like we do now? How about when they had cash in their purse or wallet, and plastic cards were unheard of..

As an older woman nearly 70, I do exactly that, I know I do. Every birthday I find myself telling my adult children about their birth, weight, length, good looks and how much I love them.

I often reminisce about their childhood and our homes and life back in the day. Sometimes they don't even try to hide the fact that I am boring them. Yet to me, talking of these things comes as naturally as breathing air.

It's never a productive day if I find myself culling double ups of my online photos. I spend so much time reliving bygone days and sometimes it actually depresses me. Nostalgia can do that.

Why does it depress you? you ask. It depresses me because a lot of the people in the photos have passed. Some family in pictures- mainly cousins- no longer keep in touch in spite of me reaching out via FaceBook. They simply aren't interested in being a family anymore.

I relive certain times and wish I had or hadn't done something or other, knowing that such thinking is futile because we did the best we could with what we had at the time. It has to be enough to know that.

It hurts me to see pictures of happier days when I babysat grandchildren and those same grandchildren now grown, don't bother to ring me or call in. Yes, yes, I know they have busy lives, but I did too back then and I still found time for them.

It is sad when I am not even invited to theirs or my grandchildren's birthday parties, having been the organiser and host of so many of them for them and their friends at their birthdays. But like an old shoe, I have been cast off to be forgotten.

It doesn't help when one gives their children their baby albums and Infant Welfare Record Books, with locks of hair and tiny wrist band from the hospital- only to find they have been thrown out and not cherished like you did for many many years.

Precious memories are all we really have, us old ladies. The saddest thing of all is discovering that they are only precious to us.

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone. Psalm 71.9

The only nice thing about it

So we went to the doctor yesterday to get our results from blood tests taken a few days ago. My blood pressure was 140/90 which was slightly better than last time, but still high.

He asked was anything bothering me and I had to tell him I am worried about Chris. Both of us have heart failure, high blood pressure, diabetes and cellulitis plus I have fibromyalgia.

We both have pitting oedema on our feet and legs and the fatigue that comes from obesity and feeling sick. Dressing and showering is shared in that we help each other and because of exhaustion from showering, we shower every second day, taking opposite days. That way, we can help each other.

Our love language is touch in the form of massaging each other's feet and legs and our speech revolves around spoons and how much sugar is in everything that passes our lips.

We rarely leave home any more except for the doctor or chemist and our rubbish bins go out more than us. The highlight of our day is to discover we don't have any appointments or need a blood test. We are extremely relieved to know we can just stay home and have a PJ day.

It is unusual to call on us and not find at least one of us having a nana nap, particularly if we haven't slept well the night before.

When massaging Chris's feet or watching him sleep upright so that he doesn't feel like he's drowning in his fluid, I become anxious about how ill he looks and I fret that I will lose him.

I can't bear to think of that and when I do, I have to give it to the LORD in prayer and trust that He will grant us more time together.

All this angst does nothing to alleviate my fibromyalgia pain or help me get over a flare and I find myself taking mild pain relief every 6 hours. As the doctor advised.

Our home is able to be company ready in half an hour as it is basically tidy all the time. True, there may be slippers in the lounge or a cup on the table, but this can easily be fixed. I just close our bedroom doors to hide the permanently clean but unmade beds.

We love our home as we feel it nurtures us and even though we only may be gone a few hours when we have to go out, we find we are really looking forward to coming home again.

When we were engaged, we agreed that it would be nice to grow old together and we have. Twenty-five years later, it isn't so nice. But thank goodness we have each other and that's the only nice thing about it.

I'm happy to be an empty-nester

Whilst I do miss the "good ol days" when my children were young, I am so glad that it's over now. I don't think I could cope with it. Having an empty nest does have some advantages: our routine doesn't have to be as inflexible as when we had young ones to look after.

Meals are pretty impromptu affairs. We may plan to have such and such for dinner, but then decide either we aren't hungry or we may eat something like rice bubbles for dinner. Also, the meal hours are according to how we feel. And if I don't feel up to cooking, we will have a frozen dinner. We couldn't do that with young ones.

Bedtime hours are also more flexible as we go to bed when we feel like it. If I can't sleep it's no big deal to get up and make us a cup of tea and go back a few hours later. Waking up late is no problem either, neither are nana naps anymore. I take them as required.

I don't think I would make a good mother these days: Xena often wakes me up to feed her and I feel quite annoyed. I suppose it would be different if it were a child.

There's also a good reason for menopause: I think if I had a baby now I would forget where I had put it. And now with fibromyalgia fog, I know I would!

So even though I miss some aspects of my young mothering days, I am totally content with the flexibility empty nesting has now in my latter years. Besides, I couldn't stand being asleep while the teens get ready to go out. And forget about waiting up all night for them to get home safely.

No, sometimes I am mighty happy to be an empty-nester!

To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven: Ecclesiastes 3:1

Big Brother has got us covered

My twin sister has lupus but she has no mental impairment with it. The other day, she received a letter from the Australian Government body called Aged Care. They informed her that she was to attend a meeting of a panel of health care professionals who would discuss her ability to stay in her own home. The final decision would be taken by them and not including her, and would involve her moving into a nursing home. This in spite of sharing a home with my son as her carer.

Shocked, she rang them and said not to bother. She didn't want their help. I am also getting Home Help from the same Body and I rang to cancel my records with them. They said they could make my record inactive which meant no one can access them, but as they became property of the Commonwealth of Australia, they couldn't be deleted.

I got them to make mine and Chris's records with Aged Care inactive and my sister did the same. It means that I no longer am eligible for Home Help and I am now paying privately to have a cleaner once a fortnight. It is a small price to pay in my opinion.

We cannot get over the high handed methods used by the Australian government in denying a client in their Aged Care plan their right to make decisions in their own life when there are no problems with that client's acuity.

When important decisions have to be made, Chris and I will consider all our options and cover it in prayer for guidance. We will not let some strangers take it out of our hands.

Sadly, Australia is now becoming an authoritarian regime and Big Brother has got us covered.

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone. Psalm 71.9