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.

The end of the year is fast approaching. I'm not one for resolutions. They always get lost anyway. I have recently found myself looking back more than usual. Thinking of changes I've seen, and if they were good or bad.

A phone call set me off this time. My high school best girlfriend, Marie, was released from the horrors of Alzheimer's on Thanksgiving Day. I know it was a relief. Still I was not ready. We have lived far apart most of our adult life, yet remained parallel in so many ways.

About five years ago her annual Christmas card arrived with a short letter. Her writing, always poor, was almost unreadable and rambling. I wondered if something was wrong, but decided to wait for her birthday to call, as I'd already sent my cards. I waited too long. Her daughter gave me the diagnosis before handing her the phone. She no longer knew me. In four short months she had lost all recollection of our sixty-year friendship. From that point on my conversations would be with her daughters, who proved to be saints. When they could no longer keep her at home, they placed her in a safe comfortable place, and visited daily. She was well cared for, but I'm happy for her that it is over.

And I"ve been thinking of what was and now is not. Changes. Some bad some good.

Cameras: My friend's daughter sent me pictures seeking identification. They were black and white and a little grainy, taken on a black 116 Kodak box which was my 16th Christmas present. It was a great prize at the time, and my spending money all went for rolls of film, not easily found in wartime. I tried very hard not to waste any. I learned to develop my own film, smelling up the house with the scent of chemicals. My mother didn't think much of my efforts, but oh, was it fun.

The little box was cumbersome to carry. Today, in my purse I carry a small pink case the size of my favorite candy bars. It is always available, provided I have remembered to charge the battery within. The results do not require much of me. I just pull a little stick out of the pink case, stick it into my computer and there is everything I have pointed at in gorgeous living color. The 116 is a nice memory, but the little pink is a joy. And there are others.

I recently told someone I had something in the ice box. It was a slip of the tongue. We got our first refrigerator just before the beginning of WWII. We no longer lugged ice or emptied the pan under the box. It had a metal case for ice cubes taking up about half of the upper shelf space. Getting ice cubes out of the trays was a pain in the neck. Today I simply push my glass against the outside opening and the cubes drop into my drink.

Our Oakland automobile died in 1938, and was replaced by a Terraplane. Big black thing. My father's pride and joy. It did not defrost the windshields in winter, nor cool us off in hot summers. And the material on the seats chafed my legs on long trips. I still itch when I think of it.

There are things I don't care for in our world today, but modern inventions are not among them. I find some political scenes annoying. My father did the same before me. And television can be irritating at times, but think of all beautiful things it has brought us.

I think I'll take what's available now, including the tiny lights on the Christmas tree. Aren't they pretty?

Have a Merry Christmas.