Blessed are they who understand my faltering steps and shaking hand.
Blessed are they who know that my ears today must strain to catch the words they say.
Blessed are they who seems to know that my eyes are dim and my reactions are slow.
Blessed are they who look away when my coffee gets spilled.
Blessed are they with a cheery smile who stop to chat for a while.
Blessed are they who never say, “You’ve told that story twice today.”
Blessed are they who know the ways to bring back lovely yesterdays.
Blessed are they who make it known that I am loved, not left alone.
Blessed are they who know the loss of strength I need to bear the cross.
Blessed are they who ease the days of my journey home in loving ways.
Pope John Paul II speaking about old age, says:
“I bow down in respect before old age. The last years of human life are like the final movement of a great symphony in which the various themes of the composition are repeated and highlighted by that special crown of old age — Love.”