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Sabbie .. this is for you ... FIND yourself soon


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As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend..

 

I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

 

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM or sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 &70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love .. I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set.

 

They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.

 

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

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I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face.

So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore....I've even earned the right to be wrong.

 

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day(if I feel like it)..

 

MAY OUR FRIENDSHIP NEVER COME APART ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART!

 

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A Nice Story - Father and Son

 

One old man was sitting with his 25 years old son in the train.

The train was about to leave the station.

All the passengers were settling down in their seats.

As the train started to move, the young man was filled with a lot of joy and

curiosity. He was sitting on the window side.

He put out one hand and felt the passing air.

He shouted, "Papa see all the trees are going behind".

The old man smiled and admired his son's feelings.

Beside the young man, a couple was sitting and listening to all

the conversation between father and son.

They were a little awkward with the attitude of the 25-year-old

man behaving like a small child.

Suddenly the young man shouted again, "Papa see the pond

and animals. The clouds are moving with train".

The couple was watching the young man with embarrassment.

Now it started raining and some raindrops fell on the young man's hand.

He was filled with joy and he closed his eyes.

He shouted again," Papa, it's raining, the water is

touching me, see papa".

The couple couldn't help themselves and asked the old man,

"Why don't you visit the Doctor and get treatment for your son."

The old man said,

" Yes, we are coming from the hospital, as only Today

my son got his eyesight for the first time in his life".

Moral:

"Don't draw conclusions until you know all the facts".

 

 

 

 

 

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Respect.

 

I was expecting a middle finger.

 

 

Stop being so mean to sabbie! HAHAHAHA He's nice chap, that needs help. [:(]

Please morally and mentally support him! [smash]

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I don't know to be happy or sad at the attention given to me, pls I like to be low profile, but most importantly despite my helplessness, I am quite sure there are others who need more help than me

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Please I really do not deserve this honor, pls close the thread before I get accused of being an attention seeker

Come on lah, tell me u r luving every seconds of it. [cool]

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Neutral Newbie

*"I'm 76 and I'm Tired"*

 

I'm 76. Except for brief period in the 50's when I was doing my National

Service, I've worked hardsince I was 17. Except for some serious health

challenges, I put in 50-hour weeks, and didn't call in sick in nearly 40

years. I made a reasonable salary, but I didn't inherit my job or my income,

and I worked to get where I am. Given the economy, it looks as though

retirement was a bad idea, and I'm tired. Very tired.

 

I'm tired of being told that I have to "spread the wealth" to people who

don't have my work ethic. I'm tired of being told the government will take

the money I earned, by force if necessary, and give it to people too lazy to

earn it.

 

I'm tired of being told that Islam is a "Religion of Peace," when every day

I can read dozens of stories of Muslim men killing their sisters, wives and

daughters for their family "honour"; of Muslims rioting over some slight

offense; of Muslims murdering Christian and Jews because they aren't

"believers"; of Muslims burning schools for girls; of Muslims stoning

teenage rape victims to death for "adultery"; of Muslims mutilating the

genitals of little girls; all in the name of Allah, because the Qur'an and

Shari'a law tells them to.

 

I'm tired of being told that out of "tolerance for other cultures" we must

let Saudi Arabia and other Arab countries use our oil money to fund mosques

and mandrassa Islamic schools to preach hate in Australia, New Zealand, UK,

America and Canada, while no one from these countries are allowed to fund a

church, synagogue or religious school in Saudi Arabia or any other Arab

country to teach love and tolerance..

 

I'm tired of being told I must lower my living standard to fight global

warming, which no one is allowed to debate.

 

I'm tired of being told that drug addicts have a disease, and I must help

support and treat them, and pay for the damage they do. Did a giant germ

rush out of a dark alley, grab them, and stuff white powder up their noses

or stick a needle in their arm while they tried to fight it off?

 

I'm tired of hearing wealthy athletes, entertainers and politicians of all

parties talking about innocent mistakes, stupid mistakes or youthful

mistakes, when we all know they think their only mistake was getting caught.

I'm tired of people with a sense of entitlement, rich or poor.

 

I'm really tired of people who don't take responsibility for their lives and

actions. I'm tired of hearing them blame the government, or discrimination

or big-whatever for their problems.

 

I'm also tired and fed up with seeing young men and women in their teens and

early 20's bedeck them selves in tattoos and face studs, thereby making

themselves un-employable and claiming money from the Government.

 

Yes, I'm damn tired.But I'm also glad to be 76.. Because, mostly, I'm not

going to have to see the world these people are making. I'm just sorry for

my granddaughter and her children. Thank God I'm on the way out and not on

the way in.

 

 

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Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands.

 

When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK.

 

Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. 'Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she said in a clear strong voice.

 

'I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,' I explained to her.

 

'Have you ever looked at your hands,' she asked. 'I mean really looked at your hands?'

 

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making.

 

Grandma smiled and related this story:

 

'Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.

 

'They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor.

 

They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war.

 

'They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special

 

They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse.

 

'They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.

 

They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.

 

'These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life.

 

But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of God.'

 

I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma's hands and led her home. When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and husband I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God.

 

I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.

 

 

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