By Roxanne Tellier
When I was growing up, you weren’t supposed to trust anyone over 30. 40 was the start of being ‘over the hill.’ It was “Welcome to Middle Age!” at 50. Then at 60 they’d say, you’re “Old enough to know better, but too old to care.” When you hit 65, you can retire – from work, and/or life. And then 70 … 70 is ‘the new 40’ … or 50 or 60. Nah. 70 is 70.
Seventy – Don’t Panic! Consider the alternative! And the one I see most often from my peers – “It was more fun being 20 in the 70s than it is being 70 in the 20s.”
I’m too young to be seventy. Even when my everything hurts, I’m still plotting and planning and thinking and doing and writing and singing and making good trouble. I can’t keep a lid on it; I never learned how.
But there’s something that’s really not cool about being seventy – it’s being invisible most of the time. It’s being underestimated, and having assumptions made about abilities and capabilities. And it’s living with what other people presume when they look at or through an elder, their eyes shifting to focus on the person behind them, because they can’t imagine what a senior has to offer, and they’d rather not deal with someone not as young, quick, and as with it as themselves.
I chose to make a major change to the rest of my life when I opted to move to a new city, far away from my friends, colleagues, and acquaintances. Some might think this drastic move an opportunity to reinvent oneself, to wash away the past, and to start anew. But instead, it was a shock to the system. These new people I was meeting only saw the surface, that little old white-haired lady on a scooter. But we are all – each of us – so much more. We are the sum of all of our lived experiences. Being invisible, being a blank slate, presenting myself solely on how I looked and acted at 70, was the denial of the existence of all the major and minor events of a vibrant, action-packed life.
And I hated it. At 70, I wanted a victory lap, not to have to start over from scratch. But it is what it is, kids. After a lifetime of feeling ‘seen’ I discovered what so many learn as they age – society’s triage of acceptance.
On one level, I’ve always understood the importance of community, of friendships and relationships, and of how ‘it takes a village.’ But when you move from one place, you leave your physical community behind. And it feels like losing a limb. You’ve can have a lot of connections online, but that won’t keep you warm at night.
Loneliness can kill you, as surely as a drink or drug habit. During the closures and restrictions of the Covid 19 era, we learned that not being able to gather for the highs and lows of life sucked a lot of pleasure out of our human experiences. Seniors, and those who lived alone, were especially hard hit from the lack of human contact. A study in June, 2023 found that:
“People who experienced social isolation had a 32% higher risk of dying early from any cause compared with those who weren’t socially isolated. Participants who reported feeling lonely were 14% more likely to die early than those who did not.”
At any age, it’s important to get out of your cocoon, get active, get involved, and to meet people. For seniors, it’s a sad truth that you have to keep making new friends, because your old friends, bless ‘em, will be – if you’ll excuse the expression – dropping like flies.
For the most part, I’ve always been a rebel who does what feels right, rather than what makes others happy. And I’d like to think I’ve learned a truth or two in my life’s travels.
But the wisdom of age doesn’t come with a megaphone. You’ve still got to have the chutzpah to demand to be heard and seen.
I always did like an audience. So, while I have you here, I’m going to share a little of what I’ve learned – mostly the hard way – in the last seven decades:
From the moment we are born, we have to figure out whose voices we’re listening to in our heads. This is your one life. You can and should listen to the advice of your elders, but in the end, it is your own path to walk, regardless of your families, cultures, and beliefs. We are born alone, and we die alone. In between, we need to be the sculptor molding the shape of our life.
BUT – no matter how determined you may be to try to chart your course, there’s no guarantee it’s going to go in the direction that you planned. And maybe that’s not where you needed to go, anyway. Zigging when you meant to zag can sometimes lead you to somewhere all together new and unexpected. The future will not be forced; be open to the unexpected.
Happiness is a choice. Neither you nor anyone you know is going to have a perfect life. There’s going to be moments of great joy, and moments of deep sadness, but you’ll get through whatever gets thrown your way, even if it leaves a scar. It’s life’s hurdles that make us resilient, and we need that resilience so that we can help lift others when they, too, inevitably fall.
You can get away with being dopey and vacuous when you’re young and attractive, but being stubbornly obtuse as an adult takes all the pretty out of a person.
What makes you seem the strange, nerdy, uncool person as a kid, can often lead to being thought of as interesting, quirky, and distinctive when you get older.
What other people think of you is none of your business. Or theirs. When you’re young, you think that every embarrassing thing you do is observed and found wanting. As an adult, you still worry about what your peers think of you, but now, you’re judging their actions right back. When you’re older still, you finally realize that everybody was too busy worrying about their own cringeworthy actions to notice yours. You are so much less interesting to others than you think.
The Buddha once said “Hatred is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.” You know that thing that bugs you? Let it go. Don’t hold grudges; it’ll just hurt your stomach and give you frown lines. Don’t look for opportunities to complain and hate. No one likes a whiner. Don’t be a racist, bigot, chauvinist, or antisemite. Don’t. Just don’t. If you want to live in a kind world, choose empathy, not cruelty.
Compromise, while necessary, still means that someone’s gonna be unhappy, because no one ever gets everything they want. Compromise anyway.
Even the nicest people think, “What’s in it for me? “We are all creatures that want to have good, fulfilling lives. As a young woman, building a family, building a career, I often put other people’s needs ahead of my own. And I learned that sacrificing your own needs for a loved one can be a lot like sacrificing your life for a job; it’s mostly unappreciated, love and respect can be withdrawn without warning, and, sadly – you can always be replaced. Always. If you must put other’s needs and wants before your own, do it wisely, and don’t expect repayment.
Trust your gut, in friendship or romance. Marriage and relationships should be fun, make you feel happy, and make hard times easier. You’re not supposed to be constantly sad or needy. If you notice a red flag, there’s a reason for it. The right person will bring out the best version of yourself. It’s not the right person if you are trying to be someone you’re not to make them happy, making yourself smaller so that they can be bigger, or if you’re compromising your values. Sometimes being alone is better than being in the wrong company.
You are not obligated to keep toxic people in your life, no matter their connection to you. Your life’s job is to take care of yourself. The people you keep around you should make you a better person, a person who feels loved and supported. You need to let go of people that bring you down and make you feel insecure.
Take the reins of your life. Don’t be or play a victim. Don’t be a martyr. Refusing help for fear of being judged as ‘less than’ is only a punishment on you, your kids, your family. If you need help, ask, and take what you are given with gratitude. Start a GoFundMe to pay for your family’s, or your pet’s, medical needs. Call Meals on Wheels. Call 211 and get help. There are kids in high school that can get credit for helping you with home maintenance, shoveling, mowing. It’s not worth killing yourself over clean gutters or a shoveled walk. Just remember to pay it forward, if and when you can.
Don’t live in a ‘bubble.’ You can ‘play along to get along,’, but if your opinions, and decisions on your choice of jobs, schools, marriage/relationship/sex partners and tech are decided by committee, rather than yourself – you’re doing it wrong.
Remember, the victor writes history, so when you read history, try to find out what the other side had to say. Accept nothing at face value; there’s always more to the story.
Social media can help you stay in touch with family and friends, but it can also take over your life, if you let it. Too much time spent scrolling destroys your attention span, and takes time away from living your best life. Consider setting a time limit for how long you’ll be on your mobile devices. “Always leave them wanting less.”
Take a stand. But if it turns out you were wrong – apologize, frankly and honestly. You don’t have to argue over every disagreement. Pick your battles and let trivial things slide.
“Everyone is entitled to my opinion” is a joke, not a commandment. It is always okay to say, “I don’t know,” or “This is not my area of expertise.” Wild speculation doesn’t add anything to understanding issues. Before you share your opinion, ask yourself; Is it true? Is it necessary, or at least useful? Is it compassionate, or at least, not harmful?
Be true to yourself. Honesty is the most powerful tool you own. Use if wisely, because, once you are branded a liar, you will never be known as anything else.
Travel, as much as you can, as far as you can, as often as you can. Cross an ocean. Travel while you’re young, and have few responsibilities. Travel when you’re older, and bring the kids! There’s a whole other world out there that many will never see, except on a screen. Be the one out there seeing and doing, not the one who just watches other people enjoying life.
Focus on experiences, not things. At 70, you’ll remember good times with great people, and visiting new places or attending important events. You will NOT remember that 12-foot skeleton or Barbie photo booth you absolutely had to get the kids, no matter the cost, in order to make their Halloween ‘perfect’. Money can’t buy perfect, even thought the kids swear that it does.
What you thought you couldn’t live without changes every five to ten years. One day you’ll realize how many years you have spent giving all your time, money and energy to buying ‘stuff’ that only made a mess that you now have to either find a place for, or dispose of, at yet more cost of time, energy and money.
Read something every day. Reading, be it on a printed page or an electronic device, is crucial to a rich life. Read to destress, to find tranquility, to escape into other worlds, or to learn how you can use words to communicate your dreams better to others. Reading teaches you focus, it expands your vocabulary, helps with concentration, and improves analytical thinking. And you can nearly always find something to read for free or inexpensively! Join a library, while you’re at it; you won’t believe the wonders you can find there!
Dance! So many of us have stopped dancing, yet dancing is universal, and an ageless impulse. We feel the music, even while we are inside the womb, and move to it. But as we age, our bones grow stiffer, and we can get so self-conscious about dancing that we stop allowing ourselves to feel the rhythms of life. Some people want to dance, but haven’t a partner. Dance anyway.
Speaking of dancing … The habits that you formed in your teens and early adulthood are going to be what define you as an older person, so try and make your habits good ones. Eat properly. Exercise. Avoid ingesting anything you’ll later have to learn to live without. Do you want to look and feel like a Trump or a Biden when you’re 80? Mick Jagger’s 80. Dick Van Dyke is 97, and he’s still dancing!
You know the Canada Health Plan, with its emphasis on fruits and veg? Read it. Prioritize it. Being retired doesn’t mean you get to only eat what you like. And i can tell you from personal experience – if you only eat what you like, instead of what’s good for your body, you’re a) not gonna get as old as you might have liked, and b) you’re not gonna like what it looks and feels like when your body gets all stopped up, and cranky.
Acknowledge your age, and your health. At least once a year, take your physical and mental ‘pulse’; no one is going to go out of their way to make sure that all of your bits and pieces are in working order. In fact, there’s a form of health care triage that begins to happen after the age of 65; no one’s going to come and save you from falling apart, you’re going to have to do it yourself. Make a check list of what needs to be evaluated every year: eyes, ears, bones, heart, blood. GET THE PHYSICAL. Know your medical rights. Get your ducks – er, docs – in a row; you’re gonna need ‘em.
Physical Health: If you don’t like what the doctor tells you, get a second opinion. If you still don’t like it, get a third. Take care of your body if you want it to make it to the end in one piece. Take care of your teeth. Protect your ears; we want you to hear all the good stuff. And tinnitus, if you are unlucky enough to get that, will drive you mad. Exercise, keep your weight reasonable, cuz it’s damn near impossible to lose weight when you’re over 60. And yes – use sunscreen
Mental Health: Your brain is getting older too. You’re going to need to ‘use it or lose it,’ so start finding ways to stimulate your brain. Crosswords, Sudoku, crafts, learning a musical instrument – these are all proven to help keep your brain ticking over properly. There are tricks and tips you can learn to help you remember why you went in to the next room, or where you left your keys. If you are feeling low, you may be depressed, and that’s no way to spend your Golden Years. Your brain is precious; see a doctor or a counselor if you want to keep it working properly.
It IS later than you think. But it ain’t over ‘til it’s over. So many people tell me they wish they hadn’t waited until retirement to pursue their dreams of being in the arts or music or theatre. Well, it’s now or never. Listen to your heart. There will always be people out there with ideas about what you should be doing or not doing, but not everyone’s thoughts are worth your consideration. Smile, nod, and do what you gotta do.
Do you know what your passion in life is? It’s what you are doing or what you want to be doing, every day. It’s what you think about, talk about, study, practice, look up on the internet, argue with others about. That’s your passion. It doesn’t have to earn you a dime; if you want to do it, the reward is the pleasure you get from doing it. So do it.
It’s worked for me!
How do we define a good father? No one seems to know exactly what constitutes the ideal dad. Sometimes we think we know what qualities we would have liked to have in a father, and some people actually did get a dad that really did fulfill our stated and unstated needs. It takes all kinds, and there are all kinds of dads.
On Father’s Day, pretty much everyone will put a happy face on their upbringing, whether or not they had a good relationship with their dads. But a lot of time, they’re not being honest, to themselves or to others. Pretending that things are fine when they most definitely are not can make people feel like they are alone, and can even make them feel like they are bad people for not having had a good dad.
I believe that my cousin Michael Leo Donovan, a man who loves the city of Montreal with a fervour I’ve never seen excelled, wrote a book about one of the cemetery’s denizens, the statesman Thomas D’Arcy McGee, after repeatedly seeing his tomb on family visits.
“In 1867 he became a Father of Confederation. It was said that if Sir John A. MacDonald of Ontario and Sir George Etienne Cartier of Quebec were the architects of Canada. D’Arcy McGee was its prophet. He was murdered on April 6, 1868, in Ottawa, while returning home after a session of the House.” (A Shamrock in the Snow, 1996)
Montreal’s revered Joe Beef has a place of honour. “His real Irish name was Charles McKieman. He owned the famous “Joe Beef’s Canteen,” located near the port. His 3-storey building held a tavern, a restaurant with free food for the homeless, a dorm of 100 beds and a basement full of strange menagerie. He died in 1889 aged 54. His six sons and his wife organized a very impressive funeral for him. Every office in the business district closed for the afternoon, and there were representatives of workers from all classes in the procession.”
There is also a section dedicated to some of the 76 small children who died in the Laurier Palace Theatre fire in 1927, an event so horrific to Montrealers that a law was summarily passed forbidding the entry of children under 16 to any theatre or cinema screenings. That law remained in effect until 1961
But the most common ghost spotted on the mountain where First Nation peoples were also known to bury their dead is that of an Algonquin warrior.
Growing up, I think I always took my family a little for granted. Maybe I just assumed that all families were graced with so much talent, in so many fields. We grew up with my uncle Dennis , co-creator and writer of The Beachcombers; my uncle Leo, whose majestic land and seascapes graced our homes; my uncle John, who was possessed not only of great writing skill, but also of a deep, radio friendly baritone speaking and singing voice; my aunt Pat, a writer, painter, and woman of enormous intelligence; and my own mother, who was a superb dancer, writer, and editor.
With that sort of heritage, it is almost a forgone conclusion that the 15 children they brought into the world also possessed many talents, not only in the arts, but in social and computing skills. We just never thought that we wouldn’t be able to do whatever we wanted to do with our lives.
Many of us write. I mentioned Michael, above, but there’s also Kieran, the poet and singer-songwriter; and Rita, who has won multiple awards for her nine books, short stories and essays.
We all sing. Dianne toured with a Harry James tribute for years before settling down in Austin, Texas with her husband, where she also hosts Classical Austin on KMFA radio, produces a weekly vocal jazz show, “Voices in Jazz” for CKUA Radio in Edmonton, and has a new CD release, “A Musing,” featuring mostly original compositions. She also teaches a cooking class with her jazz trio, The Beat Divas. (dianne donovan beat divas.jpg)
Some of us draw, sculpt and paint. My cousin Aileen took her dad’s painting skill and crafted it into a long career as a well known animal portraitist during her years living in the North West Territories with the Inuit peoples. She now focuses mainly on past life regressions for both pets and people.
And I’ll get to see some, though not all of them, this week. While the occasion is solemn, visits to my city and my family are never terribly formal for more than a few minutes. We are a group that cannot be repressed for long – laughter, good humour, and our love for each other guarantees a boisterous reunion.
I’ll bring that up with the clan at the wake next week, and see if anyone’s pencilled in a date for when we can get to the ‘growing up‘ part of life. With any luck, we can keep putting it off forever.
For too long, I kept putting off a visit to Ottawa to see her in her nursing home. She’d been such an integral part of my early life, and yet – there was always a reason, some excuse, why I couldn’t jump on a bus or a train or a plane, and spend a few hours in her company.
In her youth, she’d worked as an executive secretary in several companies, with her longest and final stint being with British Petroleum. At one point in the sixties, she worked in Washington, DC, where a chance invitation to a party got her hauled in before the FBI, to explain why she had briefly visited a home where there were posters of Che and Lenin on the walls.
Patricia Donovan was very much loved by her family, and the many nieces, nephews, and great-nieces and great-nephews that knew her. She gave so much to us, and I would like to think that we gave back a little bit of what she needed in return.
Patricia Donovan (1924-2019)
A long, long time ago, I used to play chess. Not very well, to be honest; I was probably a better backgammon player if anything. Or maybe I wasn’t all that great at either.
For a while I had recapped his reality show, Celebrity Apprentice, and so this cast of characters were mildly familiar to me. This crew of misfit toys believed that they were the equivalent of American royalty, and displayed the same sort of quasi lèse majesté /insanity so often found from that mix of inbreeding and narcissism. The Trump family were petty tyrants – and they hadn’t even begun to tyrant.
But as bad as I thought he might be – he’s worse.
Dr Stuart Shapiro, a teacher of macroenomics at Rutgers Bloustein School of Public Policy, kept a diary of his own Facebook comments, titled, Not Normal: A Progressive’s Diary of the Year After Trump’s Election
Oh me oh my and ouchy! Something tells me that the days of sweet, sweet love letters in giant envelopes arriving at the White House from his loving Kim are far behind us now …
Hey … as long as it doesn’t include sports … I’ve never liked sports, either to play or to watch, so that leaves me out of a lot of the typical Canadian leisure time diversions and debates. About the most I can handle in terms of physical exertion in the winter is a lope to the nearest Tim Hortons for a toasty cup of hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and a cinnamon dusting. I simply lack a sports gene, and find it unlikely I’ll develop one during my ‘golden years.’
What I can always find time to do, though, is to spend a few hours with friends, to share a meal and indulge in lively discussions. Or to walk in a park, where some of our wild critters, who don’t migrate or hibernate, can benefit from a gift of the appropriate seed, treat, or suet.
I’m more of an indoor person, and can find tons of ways to amuse myself, whether it’s on the internet, or in communing with my pets. I love to search out old holiday songs, programs, and stories from other times and other countries, and to admire or laugh at how our sense of fashion has morphed over time.
You might be able to turn around some of your blues by making a small attitude adjustment; nobody’s perfect, but we all get a chance every new day to tweak what we’ve got. Why not try looking at your holiday challenges with an eye to a more realistic expectation of how your sister in law will behave after her third glass of wine? Is it possible that even Drunk Uncle will be a little easier to take if you practice a bit of radical acceptance of his all too human foibles? Some people just can’t help people-ing.
If you are keen on Christmas carols, fill your home with the sound! Put on your favourite play list while you tidy up your environment and enjoy the scent of seasonal candles, fruits and foliage. Open up your curtains and throw a little light on the situation. indulge yourself with a special treat, because you deserve it.
I have spent far too many hours attempting to reason with those who adamantly refuse to see logic or sense. The sad truth is that they are happy in their interpretation of the world. And I suppose I should be happy that they are happy. It’s all working out for them.
The few diehard Trumpists that get through my anti-Trump wall tend to be friends of friends. Again, in the past, I might have opted to be gracious, rather than potentially offend someone. Now, I’m more inclined to block the one, and unfriend the other. Tiptoeing around crazy people just feels too much like work, and baby.. I’m retired.
And for those people who might be job hunting, it’s best to keep in mind that those checking out your resume will probably also have a gander at what you share on Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn, along with checking your references. You might want to go easy on the kind of uploads that get a person sent repeatedly to Facebook Jail. What you’re saying and sharing online is a pretty good measurement of how you’ll conduct yourself offline, on a social level, whether for business or pleasure. Social media is not the place to let it all ‘hang out,’ or to boast that you fooled that personnel interviewer by temporarily concealing your skin head and rad tats.
I’m just saying that not all of us have to be on guard, all of the time. The holiday season is nearing, and a lot of the people whom we care about, really don’t care about politics. In fact, they would prefer it if your holiday gift to them this year would be a promise to not discuss politics at the dinner table. They’d rather have that than pretty much any of the novelty gifts you’ve been thinking of getting them this year … even more than that tea cup you thought would be a hoot.
I’m just saying that maybe it’s time to deny oxygen to the people and things that can’t survive without our steady attention. Maybe letting ‘the cheese stand alone,’ bereft of the attentiveness and arguments that are used to make him appear relevant, will help some of his most stalwart supporters to see what most of us already know – that the trump presidency and administration is a gasbag of noxious farts meant to keep us all looking in the other direction, so that the pickpockets can fleece us without our noticing.
It was a simpler time. But I guess everyone likes free stuff, even if you know in your heart that you’re gonna have to pay for it in the long run.
Alison was a lovely girl. Twenty years younger than Shawn, she had a positive, happy spirit that endeared her to all whom she met. When I think of her, I always picture her in the middle of a hearty laugh. Physically, she reminded me of the country artist Wynona, as she had a similar look and charm.
Life can get away from us. We’re always so busy, and then one day, there’s a phone call, or a knock on the door, and our opportunity to spend time with a loved one is gone forever.
Winter’s dark at the best of times, and the sun was barely out. I could make out the shapes of the furniture, but overall, I was just hoping that the cats weren’t lurking in the hallway, waiting to trip me up.
That’s when I started to think about how most things that happen in our life – for good or ill – are surprises, that come without warning. You can prepare … you can anticipate … but some things are still a surprise.
I’m one of those unfortunates that tries to be prepared for every eventuality. That is why my purse weighs 400 lbs. I never travel light; even a trip to the corner store finds me with hair and makeup for a cast of thousands at the ready.
But it’s tricky. And it takes a faith in the future that many lose as they travel through life. If enough events that you perceive as good have lined your path, you will feel differently than someone who has encountered a lot of disappointing moments. It’s like a trust fall .. where you’re neither trusting nor trustworthy.
The latest big thing in organizing philosophies is the darkly named Swedish Death Cleanse. It’s the process of cleaning house before you kick the bucket, rather than leaving the job to your loved ones.
I didn’t feel the walls closing in when they were lined with books, but just having chotchkies lying around does me in. I’m actually getting to the point where I feel a little creeped out when I see pictures of a typically overstuffed living space. It feels fussy and frilly, and not in a good way.
Prioritize the preservation of sentimental and family objects like old letters and photographs, but also keep a well-labelled ‘throw-away box’ for things that you can’t part with yet, but would like to keep away from prying eyes, like your collection of sex toys. Tape a note to the top of the box warning that opening the box will sentence the opener to death by face melting.
Life is full of surprises; some good, some bad, but all unexpected. That’s what makes those unexpected moments a surprise.
Happy Thanksgiving weekend! Hopefully most of us will be lucky enough to be gathered together at some point with friends and family to share the bounty of the harvest – or at least the goodies we’ve bought from our local grocers — and that most precious of commodities …. our time.
On Saturday night, we joined long time friend and writer Ira Band for dinner at the Island Yacht Club, on Mugg’s Island. It was a beautiful night, with weather more like August’s than October’s. Earlier this summer, the island was horrendously flooded, but is now back to being it’s luxuriously landscaped self. After a delicious Thanksgiving buffet, we alternated between enjoying the fireplace inside, and the view of the Toronto skyline from the comfy lounges outside. A perfect evening!
Monday will be Bring On The Fat Pants Day and let it all hang out. I can live with that.
n Frobisher Bay in Baffin Island (present-day Nunavut) to give thanks to God and in a service ministered by the preacher Robert Wolfall they celebrated Communion.”
I try to have an “attitude of gratitude” as the platitude goes. No matter what life brings, I try to remember that there are people on this planet who would kill to be in my shoes. Which is not to say that I don’t occasionally complain, but I do value what I have, and I thank those who make my life better, just by their presence and love.
So, what are you grateful for in your life? I’m grateful for my husband, my children and grandchildren, and my family and friends, who continue to love me despite my many, many quirks and odd behaviour. I’m grateful for the food in our pantry and the roof over our heads. I’m grateful that I’m getting older, because the alternative sucks. I’m grateful that I get to write this column every Sunday, and some of you actually read it and even discuss ideas with me, whether you agree or disagree with my points. I’m grateful that I’ve never lived in a country ravaged by war or pestilence or famine, and probably never will.
I’m grateful when I lay my head down on the pillow at night, and know that the odds are good I’ll be waking up in the morning to another day filled with possibilities. I’m grateful for every bit of my life so far, and the wonders that still await my discovery. For as long as I am on this planet, I want to be cognizant of the beauty that is all around me, and never take for granted the gift that is existence.
frustratedboomers 