By Shirley Cambray

Another long, cold Ontario winter was finally at an end, and The Willows Retirement Home had been decorated to welcome Spring.  Small vases of yellow and white Daffodils graced the tables for dinner, set with napkin-wrapped cutlery on frilly place mats, artistically decorated by Grade Eight students at the local school.   The staff at The Willows made life as cheery as possible and cook always delighted everyone with special desserts – tonight, chocolate mousse.

    Later that evening, sheet music had been handed out so everyone could follow along for the sing-song.  Some voices were a tad thin but all were enthusiastic.  Music from the fifties and sixties was easily remembered and song sheets jogged memories for any forgotten words.  Toes tapped the floor in unison with the music’s familiar beat – ah, those were the dancing years.

    Marian was happy here and felt blessed because she had enjoyed a good life, even though there had been bumps along the way.  Her legs had almost given up, making walking more difficult, but even with arthritic fingers she could still play the piano and had been happy to entertain at this evening’s social, much to the delight of the other residents.

Now, back in the quiet of her room there was time to read the last chapters of Sara Wood’s book, My Life is Done.  A strange title for a book but profound Marian thought.  She settled down in her favourite chair with her feet up on a stool and began to read.  But, being especially weary this evening, after reading only a few pages, the book slipped from her hands onto her lap.  As her head nodded forward, her eyes closed and her mind travelled back in time.

     My goodness, she was sixteen again, with thoughts full of her new boyfriend.  She had met him at a house party and was waiting for his phone call.  Neglecting her school work had resulted in poor marks on her last test, so bouncing downstairs to take the call, her mother warned, “Five minutes only young lady then its back to the books.”  Mother always must be obeyed, and Marian giggled at the memory.

    Actually mother had been right, school work was important and there she was on Graduation Day with proud parents in attendance and a new boyfriend, who was rather good at taking pictures.   After high school she had taken a commercial course at the local college, and was able to land the position of junior secretary in a local law office.  She liked the work and soon moved up to a higher position and even accompanied the lawyer on court cases.   My, those were heady days, getting insight into some people’s complicated lives.

   Marian sighed as she moved into a more comfortable position to relieve the crick in her neck, and her frown turned into a smile as she recalled her wedding day.  She was twenty-four and marrying a most wonderful man.  They had met at the Town Hall.  She loved to dance and at last had met a man who was a terrific dancer.  Their friends said they were so good together they should enter a contest – but they never did.

    Her relationship with Philip had grown from friendship to love and, with the eventual arrival of three girls, their family was complete.  They were on such a happiness high they wondered how they had ever endured the loss of one of their daughters.  Hit by a drunk driver as she rode her bike.   A memory Marian would like to forget but never could.  She shivered and moved slightly to ease her aching legs, but continued sleeping.

    Their two daughters were married, and the grandsons brought them such joy.  Being within driving distance, she and Philip could be on hand for baby sitting through the boys’ early years, but then the younger daughter’s marriage collapsed.  Eventually she re-married but moved out to the west coast, of course taking the boys with her.  The distance now meant quite a commute, so visits were only about twice a year.  The older daughter and her husband had no children and their professional jobs filled their lives to the exclusion of everything else.

    Marian and Philip lived a very quiet life after his retirement from teaching at the local college.  Then a call came for him to spend a teaching year in New Guinea.  He couldn’t resist, and Marian wouldn’t let him go there alone. So off they went together – it was a worthwhile experience and  Philip felt he had helped to fill a need, but at the end of the contract they were happy to come home.  It is a very hot country and Philip had not been well during the last couple of weeks of their time in New Guinea.  When they arrived home he was admitted to hospital with a bacterial infection.  Everything possible was done to save him but he was weakened by the infection and unable to fight any longer.  She had lost the love of her life.

     Trying to combat the loneliness, Marian decided at that time to keep very busy.  She continued doing the volunteer work she and Philip had done together, and then added some activities not tried before.  She had joined a ladies group which bowled once a week, played cards and did square dancing.  Once a month the group cooked dinner and served at the soup kitchen (Philip would have laughed at that – she’d never been a good cook).

Marian became restless and awoke to find she had a sore neck.  Rubbing it to ease the stiffness she discovered her cheeks were sticky, she must have been crying.  My goodness had she nodded off?   Better have a wash and get ready for bed.  The caregiver would be around later on because the residents were checked on at night to make sure they were comfortable.

     It really was lovely to be cared for, she felt very fortunate.  Although she hadn’t wanted to come to this retirement home, never having intended to ever leave her house, it had been a good decision.  She’d managed on her own for more than twenty years, but lately had become unsteady on her feet, as well as having to cope with bouts of vertigo.  There had been phone calls that afternoon from both of her grandsons, who had grown into fine young men with families of their own, and a birthday cake and good wishes from everyone at the social.  She would be ninety-six the next day, and had outlived her daughters and their husbands – now that wasn’t fair, was it?

     Wearily Marian finished her book, put it onto the bedside table and snuggled down under the covers.  It was early to be bedded down for the night but she was a bit light headed and even a little giddy from all the attention she’d received.  Resting her head on the pillow she smiled as she thought again about her life and a feeling of contentment came over her.  It had been a wonderful journey.  As she touched Philip’s photo, happy memories flooded back, her breathing became more shallow and she drifted off to sleep, to dream of tomorrow and another birthday.