Things I Still Can’t Do At 60

Wasn't life busy enough without taking on extra challenges? My sister certainly didn't think so, but I did...

‘Haven’t you left it a bit late to tackle Mount Everest?’

The list was my sister’s idea. ‘It’s like a bucket list,’ Angela explained, ‘but you can write it any time. The idea is to list all the things you can’t do, then tackle them, one at a time.’

I went along with it, even though I didn’t really see the point. True, there were still a lot of things I couldn’t do, but did it really matter? It might be nice to be able to put up a shelf, but I already knew a handyman who’d happily do it for me.

As for things like swimming, I wasn’t sure I wanted to learn.

I’d been so busy at work, I hadn’t had a proper holiday for years, and when I did get a day off, all I wanted to do was collapse into a chair and read, not thrash up and down a pool.

After a minute, I stopped writing. It was already a long list of ‘can’t do’s from ‘can’t sing or use an electric drill’ to ‘can’t swim or ride a motorbike’. It seemed ages before Angela put down her pen. Then…

‘Right,’ she said. ‘Let’s swap lists. I want to see what you’ve come up with.’

I love my sister, but she can be a bit of a nag. She reckons my life is out of balance. According to her, I do way too much work and don’t take enough time to rest or play. She used to nag me about finding a man, too, but gave up when I turned 50. I never wanted to go the family route. Children are great but much as I adore my great-nieces and nephews, I wouldn’t want to be stuck with them 24/7.

As I read through Angela’s list, I couldn’t help smiling. It was all so typical of her: climb a mountain, write a novel, win a ballroom-dancing competition, run a marathon... Everything on it was huge. I couldn’t imagine her achieving any of them.

‘Aren’t you being a tiny bit ambitious?’ I laughed. ‘We’re in our 60s. Haven’t you left it a bit late to tackle Mount Everest?’

It turned out this was the wrong thing to say, because it all came flooding out. Apparently, her husband had accused her of being stuck in the mud.

‘He says we’re drifting apart. If I don’t do something soon, I could lose him!’

I had an idea they were having problems, but I’d thought they were working through them. We talk about anything and everything else, but Angela’s always kept any marital problems strictly between her and Jack. Things must’ve been serious for her to share them with me.

‘It’s all right for you,’ she said. ‘You’re so wrapped up in your work, you don’t know what it’s like to love somebody the way I love Jack.’

I could have denied it, but I hadn’t been in love since my teenage years. After having my heart broken when I was 16,

I’d decided that was it for me, and I’d rather have a career than a husband. Now I run my own business looking after people’s pets – everything from grooming and dog walking to taking care of all kinds of animals when the owners go away. I have a host of people working for me, and some are absolute diamonds, willing to step in at all hours, but it’s my baby. Anything can go wrong, especially at weekends, and it’s up to me to fix it – which is the reason why I haven’t had a proper holiday for years.

At least that’s what I tell my sister. The truth is, I’d rather work than rattle around some resort on my own.

I put my arm around her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was that bad. Of course you can learn new things. And, if you need any help, I’m here.’

She straightened her shoulders and gave me a resolute look. ‘You’re right. I can, can’t I? Let’s open a bottle to celebrate.’ And we spent the rest of the evening drinking wine and chatting about everything bar her marriage.

I hoped she’d forgotten about the lists but, as she was leaving, she gave me a hug. ‘They run a lot of courses down at the community centre. I’ll have a look online and see if there are any we can join.’

‘We?’ I queried.

‘Yes. I’m thinking that if we go together, it’ll make it easier for us to stick with it.’ She paused and gave me one of her looks. ‘You did promise to help me, remember?’

‘OK, just don’t put me down for tango lessons,’ I said.

The next day, she sent me an email. ‘I’ve signed us both up for courses. I put you down for Anyone Can Sing. I’m doing Beginners’ Rock Climbing. And before you try and wriggle out of it, they’re both on the same night, so we can travel together.’

She’d spotted my get-out clause and blocked it. I could’ve said I was too busy at work, but she’d know I was lying. I love my job, but there’ll come a time when I might want to cut back, so I’d taken on a deputy a couple of months ago. I’d sung his praises to Angela many times – so, if I said I couldn’t get away for one evening a week, she’d never believe me. I had no choice but to go along.

My class was open to anyone who wanted to sing. I wasn’t sure why most of them had signed up, because they could all hold a tune. Unlike me.

The poor tutor did her best. ‘Singing is about being relaxed and breathing correctly,’ she said.

I tried to follow her lead, but it was hopeless. If I thought about what my diaphragm was doing, my knees locked up, and if I relaxed my knees, I forgot to breathe properly. Whatever I did, it made not the slightest bit of difference to the horrible sound emitting from me. To her enormous credit, the tutor didn’t seem the least bit fazed.

‘Don’t worry. It takes time,’ she said, but nobody else in the class had a problem.

The next week, I collected Angela and asked if things were any better between her and Jack.

‘Yes,’ she grinned. ‘When I said I’d started a rock climbing course, he was so surprised he picked me up and swung me round in the air. He’s talking about going on an adventure holiday together. How’s the singing going?’

‘Not great. I tried practising while I was making dinner, but the dog I’m looking after started howling, and didn’t stop until

I’d finished.’

Angela chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll soon pick it up. I never thought I’d be able to climb, but it’s easy, once you know how.’

She was so enthusiastic, I almost decided to keep trying, but that changed when I walked into the class.

The tutor’s face didn’t just fall, it crashed to the floor with a bang. It was enough to make up my mind. ‘I’ve decided this class isn’t for me,’ I said.

To give her credit, she didn’t make it easy for me. ‘Are you sure?’ she said. ‘People learn at different speeds.’

‘It’s OK,’ I said. ‘I’m glad I gave it a go, but it’s not for me.’

She tried not to show it, but I could see the relief on her face. I headed to the cafeteria and nursed two mugs of coffee until Angela’s class finished – later than mine because they had a break for refreshments.

Waiting outside, I risked a quick peek through the window, and there was Angela - halfway up an enormous wall with a huge smile on her face.

I didn’t dare tell her that I’d quit in case it stopped her from going. So, the next week, I took a book with me, found a quiet corner and read until her class was over.

I’d only read a couple of pages when a man came along. ‘Are you waiting for somebody?’

I didn’t look up from my

The following week, he apologised for asking me out

book. ‘No. I’ve bunked off.’

He laughed. ‘Me, too. I should be in Beginners’ French. Which class did you skip?’

‘Anyone Can Sing.’

‘What happened? Did your husband sign you up because you sing in the bath?’

He sat down. Normally, that would have been my signal to find somewhere else to sit.

I’d rather avoid striking up conversations with strange men, but there was an energy about him that was hard to resist.

‘No, I’m not married. It was my sister’s idea. We wrote lists of things we couldn’t do. One of mine was singing. She’s in Beginners’ Rock Climbing.’

‘Wow, rock climbing! That’s definitely different.’

As we chatted, the time flew by so fast, neither of us noticed until it was almost nine o’clock.

‘Goodness, is that the time?’ he said, looking at his watch.

‘I’d better be going.’

Seconds later, he’d gone, so I went to meet Angela, never expecting to see him again. But, following week, there he was again, sitting where I usually sat.

I didn’t get any pages read that time because we spent the whole time talking, mainly about my business; like me, he was a massive dog lover.

‘I have two at the moment. Bertie’s mine. He’s big and brash and bold. Then there’s Trixie, a toy poodle. My wife chose her… I was wondering if we could meet up some time? Go out to dinner, maybe?’

‘No, thanks.’ I said, in a voice that sounded brusque even to me. I thought he had a cheek, asking me out when he was married, but I’d have said no anyway. I didn’t want a man in my life, not even an admittedly attractive, charming one.

The following week, he apologised for asking me out. ‘My wife used to tell me off. “You’re too impetuous, Steven. Women need time’’,’ he imitated her using an impeccable French accent, then switched back. ‘I asked her out within seconds of meeting her. She’s been gone six years now, and I still miss her every single day.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.

Your accent is very good, by the way. It’s hard to believe you don’t speak French.’

‘Actually, I do. When we met, you had this aura, like a giant flashing “keep away” sign. I thought if I pretended I’d skipped classes, too, that would break the ice – and French was all I could think of. My granddaughter’s actually on the advanced course. I’m here as her taxi driver while her boyfriend’s away at uni.’

That time, when he asked me out, I said yes.

By the end of term, I’d discovered something amazing. Work isn’t the be-all-and-endall of life. You can teach an old dog new tricks, and, although there are still a lot of things I can’t do in my 60s, there’s one thing I definitely can do.

If writing that list taught me anything, it’s that it’s never too late to fall in love!

THE END

Linda Lewis, 2018