Morose, macabre or maudlin?
If you are a senior, you are probably heading for the airport or wishing you were.
Four sleeps and Mike and I are finally making our winter getaway. Because I was so sick at Christmas, we had to cancel our plans to celebrate the New Year in a sunny location, hence the late start. Now, thanks to modern science and lots of medications, plus cataract surgery and new young lenses in my old aging eyes, I am off and running once again. Just at a slower pace.
I think of my parents at this age and rue the miracles of technology they missed. I will travel with a pharmacy, my private oxygen supply and tons of medical insurance. All this tucked discreetly away in a designer bag. I go overboard with U.S. dollars because I’ve found that with enough money, one can overcome most obstacles. If I fall ill or have an accident, I am prepared to hire the first person on the scene to get me to my hotel. And here is the kicker: If I die in my sleep in a five-star hotel, you know I died happy.
I know it is morose, but suppose I’ve just come from the pool in a new cover-up.
I suffer a stroke, and expire on the spot. Oh happy day! My affairs are in as much order as they will ever be, and everyone I love has been told I love you many times.
No amends to make or dramatic reconciliations in my world; just know I have been blessed with a long and happy life and am hoping to leave this planet (where nobody stays) while I still have arms and legs that enable me to move. Honestly, few of us want to live if we can’t get up and get dressed, or order Eggs Benedict for breakfast.
I know it is macabre, but passengers die on board those cruise ships every day. Do the staff have a protocol to cover burial at sea, or do they simply stash the body in the big refrigerator at the back of the kitchen? I know of one family whose dearly departed mother had lived for far-away places. The family was instructed to take her ashes in a biodegradable rose-coloured envelope and sprinkle them near Madagascar, or was it Mallorca? It would be horrible, even gruesome, if the ashes blew against the cruise ship and stuck!
In my case, I would like my ashes to be buried with my parents in the family cemetery, which is a long way away. If I died on holiday (or at the spa), my remains could be shipped directly to Iowa and Mike would be spared all the survivor’s tasks of deciding who to call and elimination of a black wreath for the front door since no one will be home.
Actually, I think old rituals like armbands to communicate a death in the family were lovely traditions that brought great comfort to those remaining to grieve.
At the risk of sounding sentimental or tearful, I for one, appreciate tissue boxes placed at hand for those of us who tend to the mushy, weepy expressions of loss.
To conclude, I will say I fully intend to return from our all-inclusive week in Mexico. I want that return ticket on the direct flight home from Puerto Vallarta. Mike has never travelled there, so I am looking forward to seeing how much he will enjoy the people (beautiful), sights (cathedrals), colours (pink sunrise and sunsets) and culture (the Mayans, the Spanish, the Canadian tourists).
I can’t wait for one more go at the village markets and a Mexican wedding dress. Plus non-stop rum punch and fresh fruit every day. When I return home, I will be totally renewed and ready to check out the bulbs we planted in our garden last fall. Will we have tulips, hyacinths, lilies or onions? I will also check out the Kelowna Forum to see what this new meeting place has to offer.
The Kelowna Forum has been touted as our newest cultural hub, serving as a meeting place for like minded people, those interested in the arts, philosophy and higher learning. The north-end venue on Ethel St. will impress you. A renovated church that is all glass, mirrors, wood and great lighting and sound. Perfect for those who prefer a small, intimate space for musicians and performing artists.
Corey Weeds played there recently with jazz legend Harold Mabern and we clapped till our hands hurt. I bought a CD that was recorded in New York titled It’s Easy To Remember and features Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, an old favourite for seniors.
Get there early: seats fill up fast but the performers are well worth waiting for. We enjoyed the company of young music students from Mount Boucherie school. Weeds appreciated the warm reception the audience gave his quartet. He told me so. This Vancouver artist is topping the charts.
Keep an eye on the winter skies. The January full moon was called the Full Wolf Moon, also the Old Moon and the Moon after Yule. Wolves are said to be led by the oldest members of the pack. They are followed by mid-age adults, then the young. The remaining mid-age wolves protect from behind and the alpha male travels last to overlook the landscape, providing safety and protection.
I have always loved the wolf as animal spirit. The wolf represents guardian, family, loyalty, friendship, and teacher.
February is called the Snow Moon and is the feast of the waxing light. We are called to light our own light, which is no small feat for those over 80, believe me. It is the time of initiation, of beginning, when seeds that will later sprout and grow start to stir from their dark sleep. Next month will be the spring equinox and we can look forward to a joyful time, the time when life bursts forth from the earth and the chains of winter are broken. I forget despair; it turns to hope.
The gloom and blue of winter are forgotten. The future promises our hearts will open with the green and growing things of the month of March as well as another full moon on the 12th as daylight savings starts. At last. Jeanette Dunagan is an Okanagan artist. Email her at jd2399@telus.net.