For the first time since I’ve known him, B- has forgotten his cell phone and my iPhone is down to 9% and falling. I need to go home and get his phone and my charger, but it’s about a mile walk and my stamina is compromised. I spot two old women slowly heading for their car with grocery bags. I just have a feeling about them, so I approach, keeping an unthreatening distance, to ask if they’re going down the main street as it’s my 65th birthday and we have a flat tire and I need to get home. Lo and behold they live in the big white building across the street from mine, the expensive one, so I climb into the back seat of Agnes’ car. Her sister Mary moved into the white building after she was widowed, they tell me as I struggle to repress the coughs that are threatening to explode, and then Agnes got a place on the 6th floor. “Oh, I’m on the 7th floor,” I say, “I hope you’re not peeking in my window.” Such giggles bubble around the car that I am at my door before I can make another joke.
It’s a long time and a cast of many characters until we finally assemble all the necessary parts of the jack so that he can do his job. What was meant to be a quicky break from the sick room to see some foliage has turned into a draining drama. I go home and sleep.
The strength of their community, their fight against obvious arthritis and imbalance, the passion behind their success combined with the occasion of my 65th birthday remind me of how many books I have
Monday, my actual birthday, I work as usual. I teach my two senior fitness classes, 30 students per class. The first group sings me happy birthday and gives me $100 gift certificate to Trader Joe’s. This is a brilliant gift and I say so. I promise to buy all those expensive things – cuts of meat, for example – that I avoid on my own dime – but of course I do nothing of the kind. The second class takes me to lunch at a local noodle house – something that has become our tradition over the years. We have lost three men this term already with one to pass away a few hours after our lunch and two more too ill to attend. It is a depleted group with a disproportionate number of widows, but at least they are looking after each other.
What are the upsides of turning 65? Of course Medicare is the big one, although it is much more expensive than I anticipated, the coverage is less comprehensive than I would wish, and the paperwork is such a labyrinth for a writer with a Masters degree, that I worry about elders without my advantages. There are the reduced rates for transportation, although I can’t quite figure why the backside of my Charlie Card is stamped with a giant SENIOR! when the card is programmed for the discount. My favorite thrift store has a Wednesday senior discount on clothes with red or green tags. And then there was the experience I had with my friend Sue from London. We were
We heard the person on the loud speaker say, “We will be boarding First Class passengers first. Thank you.” There was a brief pause. “And now we invite all seniors and people with disabilities to come forward and pre-board.” Our discounted tickets in hand, we extracted ourselves from the heaving masses and made our way to the front, our several chins held high.
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