Senior Daze

by Katie Bourg

About Katie: Having arrived in time for the Great (?) Depression, WWII, and all other 20th century problems, I am endowed with long and varied memories. Writing classes have long been my home away from home. Other people's stories are fascinating, and sharing is growth at its best. Hope you seniors will join me with your stories. Try it. You'll like it.

Sometimes we get a little too complacent about our new electronic wonderland. Sometimes we just might want to plan on paying a little attention to the old fashioned 'what ifs.' I relearned that lesson the hard way a couple of weeks ago.

A fancy wedding, long in the planning, was on my schedule. I was to be ready a few days early, when it would be convenient to come and get me. I'd been in on the initial planning some months before and was quite excited about the whole affair.

The bride was my grandson's stepdaughter, and I've watched her grow up into a lovely young woman. I found the groom much to my liking also. I spent a few days helping pick lace patterns for the veil, none of which were ever used. Final plans were up to the bride, along with the time and place. Relatives from far away east were flying in for the big occasion.

My granddaughter-in-law arranged to rent a huge home on Fox Island, across the Narrows Bridge, to accommodate all of us. The wedding was held in a little church, 115 years old, and overlooking the bottom of Hood Canal. And the weather chose to be very agreeable.

The visiting family members were mainly Spanish speaking, which was different but no problem. Their laptops were filled with their music, and speech was of little importance. When we were not eating, there was singing. When there was not singing, there was dancing. In the kitchen, on the deck and up and down the lovely staircase. I held off dancing the first few days, but I couldn't control myself and finally joined in. I didn't even break any old bones, and loved every minute of it.

The wedding was beautiful, the food wonderful, and the reception was held in the beautiful front yard of the little church overlooking the water. There was a brick walkway where each brick was inscribed with the names and date of a couple who had been married there. No one wanted to see the day end, I'm sure.

Just one problem. I had held off on this column until I arrived at our destination. I would write of the surroundings and the plans and all the excitement.

Big mistake.

This place had seven bedrooms, and almost as many bathrooms. The kitchen had every possible utensil ever known to touch food. The coffee maker was so complicated it took two days and as many languages to figure out how to use it. Fortunately, someone brought instant coffee, and the tap water was nearly boiling. Track lighting bathed the entire area with soft but adequate glow. And those gorgeous showers--all tile and glass.

The owner showed us through the place, offering instructions on the use of every convenience. He also gave us details on how to use each appliance, although no one remembered about the coffee maker.

He told us he wanted us to be completely at home, and to use anything we found in the cupboards. He couldn't have been more generous. He said our stay would end at 11 o'clock on Sunday morning, and that we were to wash and remake all beds before leaving.

And then he mentioned casually that we were not to touch the computer. Well, with all the laptops around, that shouldn't have been a problem, should it? There was no wi-fi, so there was no column in the last issue. But it was a wonderful week and a lovely wedding. And so much excitement and exhaustion. And then I got to thinking.

Sixty-three years ago this week, I was supposed to make a reservation in Victoria for the weekend after our Friday night marriage. I forgot. So we spent the money on a waffle iron to have waffles before we went to work in the morning. Worked out pretty well. I think we were just as married.