What I feel about getting older — by Alice Pollock (1978)


I might as well like it because I’m getting there anyhow.

Have you noticed how very close Xmases come together now? I start in January to shop for next Xmas and I barely manage to get everything wrapped for delivery before the big day. The great grandchildren keep coming and I don’t have to do a thing about it, except shop.

So many men and women open doors for me and my cart when shopping and often younger women smile while just passing, in deference to my age, I suppose.

Many doors are opened for the old folks in our country not all can be taken advantage of when one is still cling to one’s own home.

It is most difficult to swing being independent now and keeping the home, with jobs needing to be done and one is unable to do them. Repairs are terribly expensive and the little jobs go undone. To me, the house is a fulltime job and I haven’t been able to swing it to enjoy senior citizen’s activities.

It’s getting a little harder to use the bus for transportation and taxis are expensive.

I have multiple medical problems but thank God and the powers that be for medical and drug coverage.

Thanks too for the monthly cheque which makes the monetary part of old age so secure.

To be perfect honest though, I’m quite worried about the future – with the home and garden I can’t keep on coping and neither do I feel equal to moving. Things kind of own me, and they take the place of people, somewhat. To dispose of almost everything and then work on the house to sell is a worrisome job. Then when moved, my lifestyle must change. I envy the folks who made the move when younger and could cope. The truth of it is the whole of my life all I asked for was a small happy home with a bit of ground for a garden

When I was young, I didn’t know how I’d feel when I got elderly. Now I wish I had understood when my mother was elderly, but at least, I understand the younger ones who don’t understand

This at seventy-three is how I find old age –time which for medical reasons I can’t utilize, frustrations for the writing I had planned to do when I had time and for which now I don’t have the inclination or even the same mentality.

If some younger person reads this article and decides to do what they’ve wanted to do, now, then this will have been worth the half hour or so it took to write it.

Note: this would have been written before Grandma’s trip to the senior’s centre and then apartments.

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