Thursday, February 13, 2014

It Strikes Me Funny: "Me? A senior's moment?"

The cloud lifted and a ray of silver light hit me between the eyes. After this long, cold, gray winter you'd think I'd be happy. Instead I was shaken, because my life story will never be the same.


On Monday, after walking briskly - athletes walk briskly, always have - to my new hangout (fitness centre, swimmin' hole, coffee club all rolled into one) I was asked to present my membership card by a gray-haired senior manning the door. I think her name was Lila. And I didn't have my card yet.

"I'm new to the club. It might be ready at the front desk," I said hopefully, and stepped toward it.

It was ready and another senior volunteer handed it to me 'signature side' up. I read the name. Yup, that was me.


I returned to Lila, she swiped my card, I entered the Boys and Girls Club, officially, as its newest member. A proud moment it was, I must say, until I hit the swimming pool soon thereafter with my red wrist band in place. Halfway into my second water-running lap a beam of sunlight illuminated the band, I read a few distinct letters, e.g., H-O-R-T... T-R-E-E-T, and wondered if I had the wrong one. Because I was the newest member of the Boys and Girls Club, not the Horton Street Seniors Centre. Because I'm not a senior. I'm not. I'm...  

 

A shaft of silver light penetrated a spot just above the bridge of my nose and entered a tight space reserved for information about the Boys and Girls Club. It's for children, I thought. Boys and Girls. Not... how old am I? 64. 64 is almost 65. 65 is commonly thought of as an official line that one crosses in life when older, and not a Boy or a Girl.


I slowed my water-running and looked around. I saw about two dozen seniors and one young lifeguard. And I realized that very near the centre of the pool, doing a water-running routine he'd started years ago to relieve aches and pains, was a gray-haired, thickly-bearded, official member of a seniors' centre. He was wearing an old-man swim suit and very happy there were not Boys and Girls splashing all over the place and getting in his way for the half hour he wanted to stay in the pool.

That guy was me. Shaken. Duped by the name of the building. And waking up to reality.

But I tell you now, I will not go easily into the deep end!!

Photos by GH

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