It wasn’t until a few weeks ago I decided to write about Goldie’s battle with aging. I suppose I hadn’t thought of Goldie as anything but bright because she shone so much until one day I noticed her downcast expression.
They called me Goldie...I used to glow with beauty from head to tail when I was younger...many moonlit evenings have glimmered over the pond, and many storm-swept winters have blown across the park...now glow, glow, glow doesn't seem half as important as does go, go, go--just go on...and I noticed one day, the gold is slowly changing to a snowy white...someday I will be all white, and it will be time to go...oh, I see another young carp, an attractive crimson carp. Hey there, young one! Wait up! Do you know it is not the most important thing to glow, glow, glow?
I did not know Goldie had had doubts with her own failing health and fading youth. She had wondered if she was “all washed up”, was becoming a creature of the past and no longer swift nor needed anymore. Goldie, no longer swift—that’s all of us someday! But no longer needed? Nonsense!
(Above: “I think I’ve had it.”) (Below: “Things used to work more smoothly”)
(Above: Young One!) (Below: Dat’s Enuff)
(Above: Goldie Here...)
(Above: Goldie Here...)
Oh Goldie, all of us battle with age. No one gets younger.
We all end up having aches and rusts and as we age, but not all of us are fortunate to have rocks.
Rocks?
Precious rocks, like marble. Goldie, I’ve been watching you long enough to know you have a “precious rock” friend in Marble, that black-and-white carp with the red spot on top of the head. It’s those friends that come through for you when you need them most. Treat them like diamond, Goldie.
