Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: CONFUSED (07/29/21)
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TITLE: Boo-boos by Bonnie | Previous Challenge Entry
By Bonnie Kronberger
08/04/21 -
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This question comes up frequently with my friends at card night. Being senior citizens and enjoying our golden years includes playing cards a couple times a week. It’s such a joy to gather together for fellowship and laughter, especially for us who live alone in a house that is often too quiet.
Before being widowed two years earlier, I cared for my husband who no longer spoke or understood what was going on around him due to Alzheimer’s disease. It was a lonely time. It also made me a bit paranoid, worrying I was getting dementia whenever I would forget something or make mistakes.
Many of you know what I’m talking about. I walk through the house and reach my destination. However, I no longer remember why I came, although I’m very certain I came with an intended purpose. Standing still, I let my mind retrace my path and thought process, and inevitably, I remember what I came for. Whew.
My game-time players are wonderful friends. We share stories of victory in Jesus or of failures and hopes of becoming more bold for the Lord. We tease and laugh at frequent bad plays or become the “game police” if someone becomes too loose with the rules. Everyone occasionally makes some embarrassing boo-boo. It’s like I always say, “I can’t talk and think at the same time.”
I noticed I was making enough boo-boos, that I felt embarrassed. Just little things, like forgetting to draw or discard, saying left when I meant right, messing up on adding my score, even misnaming the suit of cards.
One night, I determined I was going to think before speaking or acting. I clearly know how to play the game, so that should be possible. I intended to get through the night with no boo-boos. It was to be my little secret, yet I’m not good at keeping secrets, so I shared my goal. Naturally, being the friends that they are, they assured me I didn’t make any more mistakes than the rest of them.
Right away I forgot to draw a card when it was my turn to play. We laughed hilariously, because not two minutes had passed. And so it continued. A big night for boo-boos on my part.
Home alone, I pondered the night’s events. I know I don’t have dementia, yet am embarrassed at seeming the fool, even though the perception is probably in my eyes only. I once was an articulate, sharp elementary teacher, and wonder where that person’s gone. I have knowledge of every mistake I make, yet the mistakes continue. I mourn the loss of what once was.
In prayer I pondered the meaning and reason for it all. An examination of my feelings revealed I think too highly of myself. I want to be the smart one, the one with the answers. Ahh, a bit of pride. A holding on to youth and its soundness.
Battling the loss, fighting its unfairness, pointed me to what the Lord has called me to—act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly. Humility is a hard pill to swallow, but its effect brings about the sweetest result—joy in each day and the ability to laugh at myself and my boo-boos. May I rejoice in my senior decline—or whatever it’s called.
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