A Milestone Birthday – by Barbara Baker

 

I turned sixty-five this year. How is that possible? When I was a kid, I thought anyone over sixty was ready to kick the bucket. And yet here I am, five years past bucket kicking age. I’m embarrassed to say, my teenage thoughts support the adage - youth is wasted on the young.

Of course, with this aging process, there were a battery of tests my family doc prescribed to ensure all body parts were functioning well and to detect any irregularities from previous (more youthful) years.

Last year my doc promised, when I got this old, I’d be eligible for a colonoscopy. Imagine my excitement. And then imagine my disappointment when the colonoscopy lab told me I was too healthy, and the poop-on-a-stick test (PIC) was all I needed. It was easy to move on from my initial disappointment.

And then there was:

- the infamous squish-your-boobs-into-pancakes experience. Another pass with flying colours. A couple years ago when I endured the procedure, The Globe and Mail published my interview with a mammogram technologist. I’ve included the link at the bottom in case you’re curious.

            Bone scan – check

            Blood work – check. What a relief to know even my bad cholesterol is being good.

Exercise – averaging 10,000+ steps a day. Yes, those final ‘walking on the spot’ steps while brushing teeth do count.

My doc’s parting statement when I left the appointment was, “Medically speaking, you’re boring.” It’s the only time in my life I’m content to be boring.

(how my grandson sees me at 65)

With the medical stuff out of the way I researched financial advantages of reaching this milestone. Canada Pension. Old Age Security. Blue Cross Benefits. And senior discounts. I’ve developed empathy for clerks who must verify my age prior to giving me said discounts. One of the better openings I received was, “I know you’re not old enough, but I have to ask if you qualify for the senior discount.” Diplomatic. Hesitantly apologetic. And delivered with a smile. Her relief was visible when I said, “I sure do.”

This year I will nap in the afternoon guilt free. I will advertise my weakness for red wine, barbecued Brussel sprouts, Hawkins Cheezies (no substitutes) and chocolate. And bedtime will come earlier if I miss my nap.

So onward with all the excitement, new adventures, sunrises and sunsets sixty-five rotations around the sun brings me. I know the future will be full of grandkids’ escapades, slower-paced outings with Dad (he’s turning 91), finishing Book 3 of Jillian’s story and whatever else shakes up my day.

 Thanks to grandsons Lane and Wyatt for their drawings for this blog.

Here's the link to my mammogram tale: No one likes getting a mammogram, but this one provided me with an unexpected lesson - The Globe and Mail

You can contact me at: bbaker.write@gmail.com

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

 

  

Dad is Curious About the Internet - by Barbara Baker

 

My dad turned 90 in August. Mom passed away four years ago, and Dad is adamant he can take care of himself. He got a new knee, cleats for his boots and canes with pokey prongs that flip up when the sidewalks are clear of snow. We tease him about getting more steps in a day than we do. 

One of Dad’s recent interests is understanding the basics of computers, technology and Google. When he loses a game of chess on his iPad, he says Siri is in a bad mood. When Siri wakes him up from a nap to tell him it’s going to get cold tomorrow, Dad thanks her for the update and scrolls the Weather App to see what’s blowing in.

A few years ago, when the Sunshine Ski Resort posted free WiFi Hot Spots at the top of the lifts, Dad asked what WiFi was all about.

I told him, “It’s so you can use your phone and log onto the internet for free.”

“Up here?” His moustache twitched. “Why would you want to do that?”

On a recent visit with Dad, I sit in the living room scrolling through Google for blog ideas while he stretches out on the couch to read.

After awhile Dad points at my laptop and says, “What are you doing?”

“I’m working on my blog for next month.”

He closes his book and sits up. “You’re working on what?”

“A blog.” I smile. “It’s a short piece of writing. Hopefully I can make it funny, or entertaining, maybe informative, or insightful.”

“What do you do with it when you're done?”

“I post in on a website which puts it on the internet for people to read.”

He tips his head. “Who reads it?”

“I’m not sure.” I shrug. “People who read blogs, people who might be interested in what I have to say.”

“Do you get paid to do it?”

“Indirectly. Maybe. Sort of." I give him a bigger smile. "I hope some readers will check out one of my books, maybe buy it or get it from the library.”

I stare down at my laptop to hide my grin and continue the search for popular blog topics – expert insights (nope), science posts (nope), upcoming trends (nope), DIY tips (nope)…personal (possibly).

Dad clears his throat, and I look up.

“Let me get this straight," he says. "You find something to write about, you put it on the internet for the world to see but you don’t know who will read it and you don’t know if it will make you any money?”

I nod.

“Well,” he pauses. “Do you enjoy doing it?”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“Well,” he picks up his book, stretches out on the couch again and lets out a sigh, “that’s good.”

        Happy holidays and all the best of wishes for 2023. 

        You can contact me at: bbaker.write@gmail.com

        Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

        What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

 

 

Ageism in Writing

 

Please click this link for author and book information

Some years ago, I read an award-winning novel about intergenerational family relationships. Every character in the story over age fifty was physically or mentally decrepit, and often both. The author was in her thirties. This was a comic novel and I realized she was exaggerating the characters for laughs. As an official senior citizen, I didn't find it funny. 

Physical and mental problems do tend to creep in with age. Aching joints, dementia, type two diabetes, high blood pressure, clogged arteries, and a host of cancers strike seniors in large numbers. I know several seventy-year-olds who have broken bones from a simple fall. In their youths, they'd have escaped with a scratch, which healed quickly. I find recovery from injuries and medical procedures takes longer now and my body parts don't always completely return to their former normal. "You're only as old as you feel" would be nice, but it isn't quite true. Portraying seniors as no different from fit twenty-somethings only works in science fiction and fantasy -- my fantasy, in particular. 

But I also have many friends over age seventy-five who regularly spend full days hiking up steep hills, over rocky and rooted terrain. And don't try to put something over on my ninety-year-old uncle. He's as sharp as many people decades younger, although he needs a wheelchair.  

Look closely to see a group of seniors hiking - they're specs on the landscape

I think one trick for writing realistic older people is balance. For each character brought down by the trials of advanced age, show another senior in peak form. I wouldn't have minded that award-winning humour novel as much if one character over fifty, and preferably over seventy or eighty or ninety, climbed a mountain, clobbered a skilled opponent in chess, or published a successful humour book. 

It's not easy to avoid ageism in writing. A friend, who is a few years older than I am, once admonished me for a having character in her mid-fifties struggle to rise from sitting on the floor. I'd thought this was realistic, since most people in my seniors' gym glass hoist themselves up awkwardly from the mats. Kudos to my friend for being able to leap to her feet.  

   

My Aunt Edith mastered the internet in her nineties