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Mary Rose McGill Disappears-2

Let us age with: Grace Humor Courage and Confidence

Pass this on to other seasoned women who will enjoy it


Mary Rose McGill has disappeared. Marge Aaron, retired homicide detective has called in Abner, another retired detective, and his K-9, Dagmar the Great Dane. Hadley Joy Morris-Whitfield, Robinson Leary, Marge Aaron, Alphonso Greatwood, Raven Five Horns, and Wiley Vondra are all ready to follow Abner and Dagmar to Mary Rose’s apartment to start tracking her when…


Wiley’s phone rang. “It’s Mary Rose,” he yelled, and he put the phone on speaker. “Where are you, Mary Rose?” He was trying to remain calm.


They listened as a man’s voice said, “It’s not your Mary Rose. We have her and if you want her back, you’ll have to pay. Instructions will follow.” The phone went dead.


“She’s been kidnapped,” Abner said quietly. Marge nodded. “No time to waste,” Abner added. And they followed the old detective and his Great Dane out the door of Meadow Lakes dining room and headed toward the elevator that would take them to Mary’ Rose’s apartment.


“Grab something she’s worn recently and let Dagmar here sniff it,” Abner said, looking at Wiley. They were all inside Wiley and Mary Rose’s apartment, crowded around watching the big dog. Geoffrey the Mastiff was watching closer than the rest.


Wiley grabbed Mary Rose’s pink nightgown from the closet and held it out to Dagmar. She sniffed. Geoffrey stiffed, too. Never too old to learn new tricks.


Dagmar turned efficiently, lowered her nose, and pulled Abner toward the door.  She led them into the hall and stopped in front of the elevator.


“Good job,” Raven said, rubbing Dagmar’s head. Geoffrey agreed and drooled a drop of drool onto Wiley’s shoe. Dagmar was one beautiful dog.


They entered the elevator. “This is the fourth floor,” Alphonso said looking at Abner. Do we have to stop at every floor, or can she tell us when Mary Rose got off?”


“Her nose knows,” Abner said.


The elevator stopped on every floor anyway as people got on, greeted the friends, then got off at different destinations.


“Sweet Jesus, my knees hurt,” Marge complained.


“Move ‘em,” Robbie ordered. “Motion is lotion. You can lubricate them.”


“I know that!” Marge said. “I don’t mind being old, but my body is throwing a hissy-fit.” She leaned against the back of the elevator as it stopped at the garage.


“I was afraid of this,” Abner said. “Looks like they had a car waiting.


Dagmar was sniffing the garage floor. Goeffrey was sniffing Dagmar.


“Oh! Drat and duh!!” Robbie exclaimed. “Double Damn!”


They looked at her.


“When we were all driving, and Mary Rose kept getting lost when she drove into west Omaha, she and I stalled one of those tracking apps. I never took it off my phone, but I haven’t used it for years.”


She held her phone, went through her apps and smiled. “Found it! If she still has battery and if the kidnappers haven’t found it and turned the app off, we should be able to find her location…. if it still works.”


Robbie tapped the app and waited. The air was full of tension. After just a few seconds she looked around with a surprised look.

“It must not be working,” she said sadly. “The app says she’s here, less than two minutes from us.”

Just as she finished, Dagmar began to pull on her leash. They turned left toward a large, dark storage area. 



I want to be with those women!”

Everything Changes: Everything Ages (Buddhist Wisdom)

It is what it is; it becomes what you make of it.


A is for Aging

A Burned-Out Old Broad’s, Perspective on Growing

My father died when he was 63

I was 22

He was ancient

Now my son is 63

He’s just a kid


Awesome   Astonishing   Acclaimed


There are words we’ll look at later, such as Anxiety, Agony, Annoyance, but first of all, being old is Awesome.  I am a clone of my Aunt Ada. I once saw a picture of her and asked my mother where she had taken “this picture of ME." Ada and I looked exactly alike, we sounded alike, we were the same height. At one time we were even the same weight. She died at age 73 of a heart condition. I have A-Fib. The same condition. In the 1950’s they didn’t have the same treatments that have kept me healthy for an additional 12+ years. I have a lot of issues with Big Pharma, and on the other hand – they’ve given me more than a decade of a good, healthy life.


It is AWSOME that you are alive.


It is Astonishing what you have done. Be loud, be proud. You have seen it all. YOU HAVE LIVED. It is Astonishing, too, how blessed or lucky you are. I go to sleep at night listing at least 20 things for which I am grateful for that day. They can’t be, “Family, Friends, Ted, Arboretum Village." Those are my Umbrella. They have to be 1. My soft, comfortable bed and cozy blanket, 2. Waking up and feeling good, 3. a hot shower. (How often do you think about how good that shower feels, how the soap smells, how fresh you feel afterward?) 4. Do I even have to mention the smell of good coffee? How I invite Father Sun to come sit with me through our beautiful, big east window while I read a chapter of my current mystery book and sip my coffee and have the elegance of peanut butter on white bread…folded over? As we used to say in Iowa, “It don't git no better.”


There is a delightful gentleman here who has had a stroke and whose hands are curled inward. When we meet in the hall I say, “Who has it better than we do, Bob Nelson?” And he fairly yells back, “NOBODY, Joy Brown!”


You are beautifully, awesomely, astonishingly old. Claim it and Acclaim it. Be grateful for all the good there is in your life and remember my two favorite sayings:

It is what it is. It becomes what you make of it,

And: Think of all the women who passed up dessert that last night on the Titanic.


Go have a piece of chocolate and say thanks.


Grace, Humor, Courage and Confidence



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