Ain't Getting Older Grand ?

Just a line to say I'm living,
that I'm not among the dead,
though I'm getting more forgetful
and mixed up in the head.

I got used to my arthritis,
to my dentures I'm resigned,
I can manage my bifocals,
but God I miss my mind.

For sometimes I can't remember
when I stand at the foot of the stairs,
if I must go up for something
or have I just come down from there.

And before the fridge so often,
my poor mind is filled with doubt,
have I just put food away,
or have I come to take some out.

And there's times when it is dark
with my nightcap on my head,
I don't know if I'm retiring
or just getting out of bed.

So, if it's my turn to write you,
there's no need for getting sore.
I may think that I've written,
and don't want to be a bore.

So remember that I love you,
and wish that you were near.
Now it's nearly mail time
so must say goodbye dear.

Here I stand beside the mail box,
with a face so very red,
instead of mailing you my letter,
I had opened it instead!