Three Score and Ten, What Then?

by Peggy Mary E. Smith

  Winter came and passed, as did Christmas with it, and we were getting into spring before I started coming round. The sun was getting stronger, and with the days growing longer, the spring flowers started to peek their heads above the warming earth. The bright coloured tulips and daffodils seemed to invite me outside to admire their simple beauty. The miracle of renewed life brought a change in me. You know, Mother Nature, she has a way of inspiring you without you even knowing. I guess it was seeing that my flowerbeds needed some love and tending to that got me going. I had found my purpose. Something needed me to love and nurture it. I guess I thought that I’d better get busy living, because I wasn’t ready to die yet.

  Anyway, once I got going at weeding and fixing up my gardens, I took on a new attitude. It felt good to get outside to do something in the fresh air and sunshine. It made me feel good to see things coming to life again. All my wonderful flowers were beckoning me with the promise of beautiful blooms to enjoy in the summer months. I had always loved the bright blossoms and the fragrances that my gardens brought to me every summer. It must be the farmer in me. Ma had always loved that, too.

  As spring moved forward and summer approached, I decided it was time for me to move forward myself. It was what Logan would have wanted for me. He had said so in our many conservations before he died. I knew how much he had loved me, and I also knew his last wish for me was to continue on, to enjoy my life, and be happy. So that was what I had to do!

  It wasn’t easy being single and starting over again. I had been part of a couple for over fifty years, but there were other old widowed women around that I knew. I thought that maybe they could use my company, too. I still had my driver’s license even though I hadn’t driven much in those last few years. Logan and I had usually gone out together, and he did the driving. I would drive into town to get Jackie to do my hair and such, but that was about it.

  I walked next door to the store and got most of my groceries. The boys still kept a good stock on hand. They were good to check up on me most days, too. Once in a while I would see someone I knew at the store, and I’d go over and have a chinwag with them to get caught up on all the local gossip. Other than that, I had stayed to myself all winter. Now it was time to get out more and drink in the fresh spring air.

  My sister Eva called and invited me to a quilting bee. She had spent the winter sewing a new quilt top and it was time to put the quilt together. She said a bunch of the gals we knew were coming and thought I should come out to it. That was exactly what I needed, so out I went.

  It turned out to be a great day. All the other gals there were old friends. We reminisced about our days of youth and crazy childhood adventures. Of course, Eva had lots to tell about me, as she had often been left in charge of me and the twins. She and my other sisters, Rose and Dawn, had never been the tomboy I had been, so she thought it was quite humourous to tell about all the scrapes I had got myself into. Anyways, it just felt good to laugh again. Even if it was mostly at my expense.

  Eva and a couple of the other women were part of the seniors’ group in town at that time. The group was called “The Happy Gang”. They used to meet a couple of times a week for cards, dances, and other socials. They even planned trips and went on all sorts of excursions. Eva thought it would do me good to come out and take part in some of these events. I told her I’d have to do some thinking on it.

  So, as I had promised Eva I would, I put some thought into it. I knew I needed to get out and socialize more. Isolation is what dulls a body’s mind. They say that’s what can cause dementia to set in. I decided to give Eva a call to find out what was on the agenda for “The Happy Gang”. She said that they were having a soup and sandwich luncheon in a few days, and my help was welcome, so out I went.

  Well, that’s how it started. I joined up and was a member for twenty years. Turns out that that was exactly what I needed in my life. It gave me a reason to get going and get inspired again, and it provided me with better company than my own. Of course, I didn’t sign up for all the events going on, but I tried to take in a few things every week. There were other members living out my way, so we often took turns travelling together to the different functions.

  I really enjoyed the soup and sandwich luncheons. We put them on monthly. They always brought out a big crowd. It gave me an opportunity to see many of the folks Logan and I knew. It was always a good social outing. I could always count on getting caught up on the local gossip and the latest goings-on in the community.

  I loved helping out at the dances, too. I have always loved music. It soothes my soul. I very seldom ever danced. Nobody could ever replace Logan as my partner. We had been such a perfect couple on the dance floor together, but I liked to help with the refreshments. It was always a merry evening. Everyone was always in such good spirits, and it just seemed contagious.

  Eva and I ventured out on a few of the bus trips that the group put together. Eva loved those trips. She often mentioned that it was great to have new scenery to view. She had not done much travelling before she had joined “The Happy Gang”. Each trip was like a huge adventure for her. She was always as giddy as a school girl when we headed off.

  The first trip that we went on together was the Polar Bear Express ride. We took a bus to Cochrane. We spent the night at a motel and then caught the train early the next day and went to Moosonee on James Bay. There was a busload of us old folks. We all had a gas. It was great fun. We got back to the motel in Cochrane late that evening, then came home on the third day. I had thoroughly enjoyed myself. That was an adventure that Logan and I had thought about going on, but never got round to.

  That fall Eva and I went on the Agawa Canyon trip. It was the same idea. We took a bus to Sault St. Marie, spent the night at a motel, and then took a train excursion through the Agawa Canyon to view the beauty of the coloured autumn leaves. It was really spectacular. We spent that night in a motel, and then came home on the third day. It was another fun adventure. It gave me lots to talk about.

  The biggest adventure Eva and I shared was the bus trip we took to Memphis, Tennessee. “The Happy Gang” rounded up enough people to fill two buses. Imagine, two buses full of seniors heading to see Elvis Presley’s Graceland. What a hoot that was. Most of us had never been out of Canada before. Eva and I hadn’t. We were both so excited that we could hardly contain ourselves. I sure wish Logan could have gone with me on that trip. He had always been my travelling companion. I missed him dearly, but I knew in my heart he would have been very happy to know that I had gone.

  We left at the end of May, and we were gone for nine days. We crossed the border at Windsor. It took three days to get to Tennessee. Eva and I enjoyed looking out the window taking in the scenery. It was quite comparable to our part of the world. We noticed that they were starting to take the hay off in parts of Kentucky. Wow. We never hayed before July.

  We finally rolled into Memphis on Tuesday. We toured Graceland the next day. The house was monstrous and so extravagant. It was hard to fathom the sheer luxury. The exterior and grounds were just as beautiful. Breathtaking! I remember saying to Eva that I couldn’t even imagine the money it would have taken to construct the place, never mind maintain it. Eva commented that Elvis was the “King” of rock and roll, and kings have lots of money. Such a pity his life ended the way it did. A terrible demise it was.

  We all purchased mementoes before getting back on the bus. The poor little gal in the gift shop must have felt bombarded by the herd of old giddy gals that day. We all had our favourite Elvis movie or song and wanted a souvenir to represent it. They made an “Elvis” everything. There was just so much to choose from.

  On Thursday we headed to Nashville. We got to take in a show at “The Grand Ole Opry” and did a tour of Nashville. It was all so fascinating to a group of northern country folk. So historic! To think we got to go into the Ryman Auditorium where all the famous country singers sang and the show was broadcast from. We had listened to it on the radio for year
s. It was so surreal.

  We headed home on Friday. The trip home seemed to go faster. Eva and I were exhausted. It had been a very busy schedule, and we found ourselves nodding off a lot. We pulled into town late on the Sunday evening. We had had such a great time. Eva and I talked about it a lot over the years, reliving all the fun we’d shared. It really was the highlight of all the trips we took together.

  Well, I guess I have Eva and all my other friends from “The Happy Gang” to thank for helping to get me on the right track after Logan died. It was fun being part of such a busy group of people. It seems there was always something to do if you wanted to be involved, and you were always made feel welcome, and they really were a “happy” gang.”

  “Oh, Gran, that’s wonderful,” Beth said. I’m glad Aunt Eva invited you to join “The Happy Gang”. It sounds like you had lots of fun and were able to keep busy doing the things you loved.”

  “Yes, Beth, I was fortunate to have been able to stay so active into my old age. I think it kept my mind sharp and my body limber. Being a member of “The Happy Gang” gave me a purpose, and that’s important. There’s nothing worse than feeling isolated and alone. My family couldn’t have been any sweeter in their efforts to help me out and keep an eye on me, but it was invaluable staying involved with my own peers. They were at the same place in life as me, and we all just took care of each other.”

  five score

  “It wasn’t long after the New Year’s Eve celebrations to welcome in 1997 had ended that the Hayes and Ashton clans were whooping it up again. I celebrated my one-hundredth birthday in January, 1997. That certainly was a reason to bring about festivities. I was so tickled to have made it that far and to think that I was still in good physical and mental condition and living in my own home. The children did things to help me out and make that possible, but generally speaking, I was still going strong.

  I welcomed the idea of having a party to celebrate the big milestone. After all, I wasn’t so sure that I would be around long enough to have another birthday. My years were numbered, so to speak. I guess that can be said for everyone, but for me, coming on to being five score, it was more imminent. I’d had the good fortunate to be on the green side for that long. Who was to say how long my time would last?

  We had put on a huge celebration four years earlier when my sister Eva had gotten to the same marker. She had been somewhat frailer that I, but she was still kicking. Her family had rented the seniors’ hall and had made it a day to remember. She couldn’t have been happier. All of us who had been able to join her on that wonderful occasion enjoyed it immensely, too. One week later she died in her sleep. Died a happy woman, I feel. She had had the chance to visit, and laugh, and reminisce with her friends and loved ones that one last time. What a happy note to say good-bye on. We should all be so lucky!

  My children had brought up the idea of having a big shindig to celebrate my hundredth birthday at our annual Canada Day party, back in July. They were so adamant about arranging one, that I couldn’t have changed their minds if I had wanted to. Of course, I was in total agreement, so they got busy and started making arrangements. Nothing too formal or lavish, I kept reminding them all. I’ve always just liked to keep things simple.

  I never asked too many questions because they just kept saying it was all being taken care of. Jackie and Jacob’s wife, Nancy, took care of most of the details. Of course, they’re the ones that are closest. They’re real dears. I can’t help but love them both immensely. Sweet girls they be. I guess I shouldn’t be calling them girls anymore. They’re both senior citizens now. Anyway, they looked after most of the affairs regarding my big extravaganza. Did a fine job, I might add.

  The only task that they gave me to do was to purchase a new dress suitable for the occasion. Now that in itself was a real chore. It seems the retail industry doesn’t feel there is a huge clothing market for one-hundred year old women, unless it’s open-backed. They took me into the city to a huge shopping mall to help me pick one out. My sakes, we went to so many stores that my head started to spin. Not much appealed to me. Most styles these days are more appropriate for the younger generations. Anyway, I did finally find one and we had a nice outing.

  My biggest concern was knowing what sort of weather Mother Nature would throw at us on that January weekend. Driving in the winter on our northern roads is not always such a treat. When we get high winds or flakes start to fall, things can turn ugly fast. I knew that there would be quite a few guests that had a fair distance to travel up from the southern corridor, and I was worrying for their safety.

  Thank goodness the weather co-operated. It turned out to be a nice sunny winter day. Somewhat frigid if I recall, but not a snowflake fell from the heavens. John was even able to make the trip. He and his wife flew into Toronto and then hitched a ride north with Murray. I was so surprised. I hadn’t figured that they’d be able to make it, coming that distance and all. Anyways, they all pulled in on the Friday and bunked with me.

  You must understand my excitement. By 1997 all my children were part of the O.A.S. club just like me. We were all on the old age pension. The first twins, Murray and Mary Beth, were eighty-one, James was seventy-seven, John and Charity were seventy-five, Janice was seventy-three, and my babies, Jacob and Jackie, were sixty-six. My sakes, that’s a hard concept for a ma to consider. We were all getting up in years, and some of the children had more ailments than me.

  All of my siblings were gone by this time. I was the last of my own family. Eva and I were the only ones to see one-hundred. We were made of tough stuff, I guess, or maybe just too stubborn. I was excited to still be around to celebrate at any rate. I remember feeling melancholy about aging when I turned seventy. I didn’t see any real joy in getting older back then, but once I got a few more decades under my belt, I was just thankful to be alive. Every day is a gift, and as long as you can stay healthy, you’re thankful for each one.

  I knew that Jackie had left the decorating of the hall up to some of you granddaughters. She made the remark to me that she had mentioned to some of you girls that I always found inspiration in my summer gardens. I don’t think she gave you any specifics, though, did she?”

  “No, Mom just said that you loved your gardens and really liked wild daisies. She said to keep it simple, but eloquent. That was all the instructions we got.”

  “Well, when you and your cousins dropped by my house the weekend prior to the party for a visit and asked to borrow some of my memorabilia, photos, and keepsakes, I knew it was for the party. I had no idea, though, what you had planned. You all played pretty coy. We sure did have a great visit and did lots of reminiscing. I enjoyed that visit immensely, and I was certainly overwhelmed by your decorating efforts.

  When I arrived at the hall with Murray and Mary Beth on that Saturday afternoon, I was absolutely astounded! Every corner of the hall was set up like a little flower garden. Amidst the array of beautiful blossoms was an assortment of pictures and trinkets. Every little garden had a theme. The one that especially pulled on my heart strings was my childhood garden. It was mostly made up of daisies and wild flowers and filled with pictures of my childhood years. Pictures of me with Ma and Pa and the rest of the brood. Peeking out from the daisies was “Bertha”, the little rag doll Ma had made me for my fourth birthday. I was overwhelmed. I had forgotten that I still had her.

  As a young girl I had always loved the wild field daisies that grew rampant in Pa’s hay fields each summer. Dawn, Rose, Eva, and I would spend hours romping in the daisies, picking bouquets for Ma. When we were older, Eva and I would wander about in a wistful, dreamy mood selecting individual daisies and pluck off the petals one at a time saying, “He loves me, he loves me not.” Oh, what sweet memories!

  There were gardens depicting every chapter of my life. One for Jed and me. One for Royce and me, and, of course, one for Logan and me. There was a separate garden for all my travels, too. Our Cape Breton trip, our British Columbia trip, and my Memph
is trip were the highlights. It was a simple idea and absolutely stunning. I was so touched by your thoughtful tribute. I blubbered the whole time I spent walking down memory lane admiring each little garden. Wow! You granddaughters had out done yourselves. You had hung streamers and balloons tastefully all around the hall, and a huge big banner was strung across the stage to finish it off. Everyone remarked on your hard work and ingenuity. I couldn’t have been happier, or prouder of each one of you.

  With all the clan together, there were well over two-hundred people at the supper meal. With nine children, thirty-eight grandchildren, sixty-one great grandchildren, and a handful of great-great grandchildren, and all their spouses, it doesn’t take long to fill a room. I’ll tell you one thing. I’m real glad I didn’t have to peel the potatoes for that crowd! The Legion Ladies did it up real fine. The meal was wonderful.

  Lots more folks dropped in with well-wishes and joined the fun after the supper meal. The hall was overflowing. It proved to be a good old-fashioned get-together. There were cocktails and speeches. It turned into a Savannah Faye Hayes roast, so to speak. What a hoot! Everyone enjoyed their share of laughter and tears. I facetiously made the comment in my speech that when I came into the hall earlier that afternoon and saw all the flowers, I thought that someone had died. I had actually said something to that effect to Mary Beth when we got to the hall. She had reassured me that I was still very much alive.

  The children had made up a slide show of my life, as they knew it, with an edge of humour, of course. Dug up some real good pictures they did. Better tribute than the local funeral home puts on for you after the fact. It was a real celebration of my life. I was so glad to be there to enjoy it!