The golden years

From rock and roll to riser seats is a short journey. More than 60 years ago, a high school classmate and I danced the night away at Ted Curl’s Teenage Dance Party in Picton arena. Elvis was the King, crinolines, white bucks, duck tails and beehive hairdos were all the rage and the future was ours.

After the dance, my partner and I went our separate ways, not to meet again for decades, through a chance encounter on social media. We began to play catch-up on Facebook and for some time now have chatted regularly. He and his wife live some distance from Picton and are always pleased to receive the latest news from home. I enjoy strolls down memory lane with someone who remembers our old classmates and the days when we were young. Not long ago, one of our conversations wandered to the two new toilets I was planning to install. My friend advised me to “go for the highest riser seats you can find.” That remark gave me pause for thought. How had we fast forwarded from dancing to the music of the ’50s to a discussion on the optimum height of toilet seats for seniors?

It seemed that only a short time ago I was celebrating that milestone event so eagerly anticipated by all teens—earning my driver’s licence. Incredibly, only last week, I found myself at Service Ontario taking a senior driver’s renewal test. At 16, I was worried about parallel parking during my driver’s exam. Now, I was wondering if I could correctly draw a clock face indicating the time of 11:10. I was given a five-minute window of time to complete this assignment, which I could have managed with ease, in seconds, in my younger day.

In my youth, new people regularly came into my life. Now, my circle of friends and acquaintances has shrunk considerably. A number of my old classmates have passed away, as well as many family members. There was a time when I could readily learn the history of a past event in my community simply by asking an older person. Now, I have become that oldster who can still remember when. I have officially become a witness to the past. My friend from those long ago dancing days has confided that he spends considerable time each day in his easy chair, a recliner with an ejector seat, a practical twin to his riser seat. Naps are part of his daily routine. I have confessed that I, too, nap although it is not intentional. I simply drop off while reading or enjoying a movie. I remember watching my mother do the same thing and vowing with the arrogance of youth that I would never waste time with afternoon naps. Today, my habit of nodding off during a movie or while immersed in a good book has simplified my entertainment choices. Often, I select movies I have seen before or books which I have already ready. This way, if I fall asleep while enjoying them I will always know how they ended.

Conversation changes in the golden years. Once we talked of the interesting things we had done or the exciting things we hoped to do. Now we compare notes on knee and hip replacements, blood pressure readings and sleep patterns. Most of us do drugs, although not of the recreational variety. Our calendars, once marked with meetings and lunch dates still remain filled with notations of appointments— doctor’s appointments, foot care appointments and reminders for prescription renewals.

Once, young girls eagerly shopped for the latest fashions, colourful tights, mini-skirts, and highheeled shoes. Now, compression stockings, roomy slacks and step-in runners are the hot items. Comfort long ago trumped trendy. As the actress Bette Davis reportedly once said, “old age is not for sissies”. Recliners with ejector seats to raise us up where we belong, riser seats on toilets to prevent us from sinking too low and an assortment of other assistive devices have become our new reality. While my old friend and I admit that our dancing days are over, we agree that we have the best seats in the house for this time in our lives—the golden years.