The thing about old age is that there is no practice period, no seminars and nowhere where you can learn the ropes in advance. You can’t even practice for it. One day you are ambling along without a care in the world when all of a sudden, this guy Old Age, zaps you in the back and yells, “I’m here!” You were not expecting him, you had no indication that he was on the way and you certainly weren’t ready for him. Rather unfair, wouldn’t you say?
The other thing about it is that it gets all of us, one way or another. It could be just aches and pains that keep moving around and appearing in different places; it could come in the form of a sudden need for dental work or it can find you needing a walker, a wheelchair or a caregiver. Old age, or as it is known in these days of political correctness, “The Golden Age”, is unlike the other ages in our lives. This is the age when you do not run and jump around and when you are unlikely to kick or bang a ball around. You have become a spectator instead of a participant. Welcome to your Golden Years, ha, ha!
Old age is also not for sissies or the weak-hearted. Here in the retirement home we are a tough and determined bunch. We play killer bridge, elbow our way into the elevator and jump the coffee queue; a long-experienced community, but by and large working well together.
Today, Holocaust Memorial Day is a special day here with our large community who were born in Europe. There are many Holocaust survivors among them. The large tray of flickering candles in the entrance lobby is testament to the soft hearts and sad memories among us.
