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.

Some weeks are better than others.

This week finds me feeling a little sad. I'll get over it. There is no option, and it doesn't do any good to mope. Still, we sometimes need a few moments to wish things could be different.

The Stilly Singers lost a nightingale recently. It was no surprise. We've been watching her lose the battle for some time.

Elaine Dorman was four years old the first time her Daddy set her up on a stage. From that moment on, she never quit singing. Minor surgery gone wrong led to sudden and vicious diabetes and before she knew there was a problem, she lost her leg. It was a hard blow, but she got up on her prosthesis and went on singing. The last five or six years she sang with the Stillys, and if you've heard us at all, you've heard Elaine. She ended every solo by throwing kisses to the audience.

Time and her multiple medical problems caught up with her a few weeks ago. She sang almost to the end. She will be missed, as will that beautiful voice.

I also lost another friend this week. Cecelia and I were the last of our first writing class. Now I am. While I'm sad, I'm not unhappy that she is at rest. She has suffered from cancer in one form or another for over thirty years that I know of. And she was tired.

Modern medicine sometimes keeps us going when we might not want to. But every step taken leaves the world able to take another step. In spite of the odds at the time, she got to see her children grow up. She enjoyed traveling, dabbled in politics, and never missed a card game. She had fun all the way.

We've had some bad weather this month. We've had some good weather, too. The weatherman just can't seem to get it right. One day Owen the dog doesn't want to go out. The next day he doesn't want to come in. Charlie the cat doesn't let the weather bother him. His idea of outdoor activity is sitting on the windowsill, looking out. He may change his mind if spring brings some birds to that birdhouse my friend Soc planted in front of the window. But that's still a month or so away. Or a week. Who can tell?

The daffodils Soc planted around the birdhouse aren't paying attention to the weatherman. They are already six to eight inches out of the ground. And I saw some primroses at Fred Meyer the other day. Think I'll go back and get some. I'm ready for spring.

Going to see the Harlem Globetrotters on Saturday with great-grandson Garrett. At 6 he has already developed an interest in multiple sports. His dad and grandpa find this a wonderful thing. I have reservations. What do I know? I'm just an old woman who thought hide and seek was enough sport for six-year-olds. The high cost of uniforms, organizations and injuries seems a little too important in today's world. To me, at least. Not to Garrett.

My daughter Betsy informs me that it is likely many of us will be living past 100 years old. She says that is the prediction. I told her not to threaten me. Still, I'm busy every day of the week. My sewing projects are behind. Can't find time to complete them.

My TOPS group is planning to host a booth at a local street fair this summer. Two of us just had 85th birthdays. Several more are close behind. All plan to be involved.

I went down to Madeleine Villa a couple of weeks ago to attend the 100th birthday party for my old friend Margaret Kime. She informed the very large crowd she intends to live to a hundred and twenty. She sold Shaklee products for many years and is a firm believer in them. Says Dr S. told her she'd live that long if she took them. She still does, and she still sells them, too.

Another friend, Ted, had a knee replacement about a week and a half ago. He's 91. Says he will be back to sing with us next week. I don't know what kind of supplement he takes, but he plays a mean harmonica.

Carolyn, an old friend, came by the other day looking for a pattern for a full skirt. She has taken up square dancing. She's 84.

sI suppose when the Grim Reaper wants us, we won't be able to do much about it. But we don't have a copy of his schedule. Why waste time thinking about it? There's so much out there to do.

Have a nice day. Or week. Or another 120 years.