Planning to grow old
Dear Editor,
Do you ever think about getting old? It is one of two options we all have to consider sooner or later. I myself, think about it all the time. You see I plan on living into my 90s, if not 100s, and I plan on doing so happily. I am a strong believer that our thoughts produce our reality, and so I have envisioned myself as a wise ass, white-haired wonder. One, who never loses her marbles, continues to bake cookies, read tarot cards, and drink beer when she damn well pleases.
Partially due to this, I choose to volunteer at a seniors’ home. I love seniors. I plan on being one in the future, and I figured a little research into my chosen path couldn’t hurt. Was I crazy to think I could still be me at 90? Many of my friends seemed to think so.
From my very first visit I was reassured. I met seniors in their 70s, 80s and 90s, and they were still cool as dirt. Street smart, savvy, artistic, deep, wonderfully hilarious people. Many of whom have since become my dear friends. These wonderful folk not only had me looking forward to each visit, they had me looking forward to growing old. With such great role models, it was impossible not to.
Time reveals all things however, and just like the fun job always has a crappy invisible task you can’t see when you take it, so does life. The seniors confided that one of the major setbacks to getting wise is where or how you might end up living. Let me first say that the seniors’ home I visit is beautiful in design and impeccable in cleanliness.
I have met many staff while volunteering who are friendly, loving, polite and attentive. These people have a calling, and deserve all our respect. With all these assets, surely I would want to live in a place like this one day. A dormitory of my own peeps sounded like a regular celebration. What I discovered from my sage friends was this was not always the case. That despite the beautiful exterior, and smiling faces, a lot of them were unhappy with their home, or the way they were treated in it.
The list of grievances ranged. Some wished for a pet, either their own, or one for the residence. Others were unhappy with the food. Many complained when a staff member they loved was let go suddenly, without their consent. I believe they wrote a petition. More alarmingly, some spoke to me of misused funds, rude comments, or unfair rules with unnecessary punishments. Every home needs rules. If they are made with love, they are there to protect us, not scare us. A few of my friends have felt threatened with eviction, others with loss of privileges for not following the rules.
Of course, I am but a mere volunteer who listens but does not see. Still, I wonder why I would hear these concerns if they were not true, and I am wary of why they will only tell me these things in a whisper, while checking over both shoulders.
Let’s rewind this letter to the start shall we. I said I wanted to be a wise ass, white -haired gran mama. You mean to tell me if I wanna speak my mind when I’m 85, in a seniors’ home I’ll have to whisper, or fear consequences!
These stories have led me to ask some important questions. And if you were ever thinking of entering a seniors home one day, or helping the ones who gave you life move into one, you might want to investigate this information as well.
Who makes the rules at the senior’s home?
Where are these rules displayed? Are seniors made aware of these before they move in?
How are decisions made? How may they be changed or amended?
If this is done by a board, who is on that board?
Are people from your own community on that board?
Are there any seniors from the home on that board?
How can you get on that board?
Finally, when you are elegant at 80, do you want potential strangers to make decisions about what and where you may eat, when and where you may go, or who will help you in a sometimes vulnerable aging state?
Personally, I have already made other plans. If the co-ed senior’s dormitory idea didn’t work, my back-up plan has always been a ‘Golden Girl’ house. Move my homies in, share the bills, and hire our own nurse, cleaner, cook, or whatever else we decide we need. Together we will make the rules, keep our freedom, and never have to worry about paying for a warden.
Santina Cross
Jasper, Alta.
