I was walking through Cabelas the other day and passed these wintergreen mints. It immediately triggered a memory of my Grampa Grant, who had a stash of these always on hand in a little dish by his lounge chair.
We even referred to him as Candy Man! Grampa was always reciting poetry (his own and others) and telling the accounts of his trip around the world with Teddy Roosevelt's Great White Fleet. His favorite poem I recently discovered was NOT an original, but I will forever associate it with him just the same:
My Get-Up-And-Go has got up and Went!
How do I know my youth is all spent?
My get-up-and-go has got up and went!
But, in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
And think of the places my getup has been!
Old age is golden, or so I've heard said,
But sometimes I wonder, as I crawl into bed,
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up.
As sleep dims my vision, I say to myself:
Is there anything else I should put on the shelf?
My get-up-and-go has got up and went!
But, in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
And think of the places my getup has been!
When I was young, my slippers were red;
I could kick up my heels right over my head.
When I was older my slippers were blue,
But still I could dance the whole night through.
Now I am older, my slippers are black.
I huff to the store and puff my way back.
But never you laugh; I don’t mind at all:
I’d rather be huffing than not puff at all!
How do I know my youth is all spent?
My get-up-and-go has got up and went!
But, in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
And think of the places my getup has been!
I get up each morning and dust off my wits,
Open the paper, and read the Obits.
If my name is missing, I know I’m not dead,
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed!