I know you are busy, so let me get right to my Christmas wish list. Putting aside things I wish for, but can never have, such as decency in government, common sense gun laws, and a reversal of global warming, I will ask for five things that are attainable. All five have to do with aging.
I wish for a lighted hand-held magnifying glass, a big one to keep at my desk, not a tiny one to carry in my purse for reading menus. My purse is already too heavy for me. The visual challenge is fine print in magazines and on pill bottles. It surely would be nice to have a helpful little elf to open pill bottles and read the labels for me.
Next, I would like non-skid socks, something prettier than those we bring home from a hospital stay. And please, Santa, no more lined socks. The linings want to do one thing, like stick to my freshly lotioned feet, while the main outer sock does something completely different. Putting on lined socks becomes a puzzling tug-of-war which is hard on my stiff knees and arthritic wrists. I believe an elf could help me with this. And, Santa, please let me stay on your “nice” list even though foul language has escaped my lips more than once while struggling with lined socks.
Next, I would like a decent haircut, better yet a reliable hair stylist. I have a history of walking out of beauty salons wanting to put a sack over my head. Many years ago I resorted to the do-it-yourself method. But, due to old age, poor vision, and arthritic wrists and fingers, I can no longer cut my own hair. So Santa, maybe you could just loan me a hair-cutting elf. You must have an extra elf or two. The older I get the more envious I am of all your capable elves, so energetic and eager to help.
Fourth, I would like a sharp kitchen knife, slightly larger than a paring knife, with a serrated edge on the blade. My hands are small, and becoming weaker, more arthritic, and quite painful. I request a knife that is not “dull as a fro.” I don’t know what a fro looks like, but my mother, who spoke Elizabethan English, convinced me a fro must be extremely dull. A small, sharp knife with a serrated blade would easily fit into my Christmas stocking. And, Santa, make it small enough for an elf to use, just in case I get an elf.
Old age is difficult and comical at the same time. The biggest challenge is to stay in a good mood, especially when your teeth go bad. This year I am asking for more than “My Two Front Teeth.” I’ve gone through the ordeal and expense of getting dental implants and a new lower denture that snaps onto the implants. I am asking for my new snap-on teeth to snap on, stay snapped on, and not hurt my gums. Do you happen to have an elf skilled in dental care?
Well, Santa, Christmas will come and I will hang up my stocking. I will also make sure my children see this letter. With their sense of humor, fake false teeth and a hack saw are likely to show up in my stocking. My children, grandchildren, step-grandchildren, and their spouses are all dear, clever, and talented. They mean well, but I don’t believe they can relate to my difficulties of just getting through the day. They redeem themselves and stay in my good graces by writing me delightful Haiku poetry.
Merry Christmas to you and Mrs. Santa, and everybody else at the North Pole. And don’t forget to bring me a competent elf or two. Maybe they could help you with driving the sleigh. Also, if you bring a boy elf and a girl elf, I could grow you a family of elves already acclimated to warm weather for when you and Mrs. Santa are ready to retire to Florida. You must be dealing with some aging problems yourselves.
Your cookies and milk will be on the kitchen counter like always, along with the usual jigger of bourbon. If I am awake for one of my several bathroom breaks, I will join you in the kitchen and have a quick bourbon with you!
I believe in you, Santa, and will prepare a comfortable place at the end of my den sofa for a pair of elves, just in case I get my wish.
I am thinking of starting a non-profit organization called Elves for the Elderly. Just imagine the good that could be done by millions of elves helping the elderly with hearing aids, lost eye-glasses, dentures, quad canes, bladder leaks, shoe strings, stubborn socks, pill timing, and whatever item is dropped on the floor or slightly out of reach across the room. I will contact you after the Holidays about the possibility of making Elves for the Elderly a joint venture with you and Mrs. Santa.
Drive carefully, and Happy 2019!
(signed) Grandma Pattie
4 thoughts on “SANTA, CAN YOU SPARE AN ELF?”
Hi Pattie, I’ll bet you read this at the Life History Holiday Party…which I missed. 😦 I could use an elf or two myself. Loved your Santa letter!
Thanks, Connie. We missed you. See you at the January meeting with resolutions! xoxopmm
I have you bookmarked on my computer and enjoy reading your stories from time to time. This is the greatest! Hope you received everything you wished for for the holidays!
Heard you read this once and enjoyed it, but I think it reads as well or better, not to discount how enjoyable it was when you read it. This would bring a smile to every good old-timer, butI think everybody who loves their grandmother would get a kick out of it as well. definitelypublishable.