CHASING DOWN THE MUSE: Making time for seniors

“I like to give my seniors extra time and care … ’cause they’re where I’m going.”

Riding to and from the Sawdust Art Festival on the trolley is one of the pleasures of my summer days. The above comment, made to me by one of the trolley drivers in casual conversation, is just one of the many reasons this is so.

While waiting for more passengers at the Act V parking lot in the canyon on a recent weekday, the driver and I had struck up a conversation. Out of this, came her comment about seniors, which gave me pause.

I had been trying to find time in this busy summer to continue to spend time with my 91-year-old mother in Palm Desert. As you can imagine, this is a daunting task when the temperature here is in the low 70s and there it is more than 100. And then there is the issue of patience. This is what the trolley driver’s comment caused me to ponder.

Placing myself in that space where I hope to go — that of the 90-plus woman — what would I want? Patience with my shortcomings, whether those of propensity or time, of course. What more, I wondered, as my mind turned all of this over and over.

I would want to be seen and heard, not treated as if I were not there. I think I would like to tell my stories, for by then I would have many to tell. And in the telling, I would want patience with my fumbling through, if such were the case.

I’m pretty sure I would want to be seen as a “whole” person — as a human being with both good and not-so-good attributes; as a person with failings, but with hopes and dreams, both realized and failed, just like everyone else.

Even as the trolley went the short distance between the parking lot and the stop between the Sawdust and the Art-A-Fair, I found myself mulling over what I, as a “senior” person, would want, how I would choose to be treated at the end of my life. In sum, of course, it would be no different than how most of us would like to be treated, no matter what age, from cradle to grave it is pretty much the same.

A few days later, I did go out to visit my mother. After an afternoon of lolling around, we went to dinner with her friends at the senior apartments where she now lives. Midway through the salad course, my mother reached over and touched my bracelet.

“Do these things on your bracelet have any significance?” she asked.

I knew I had told her what this bracelet symbolized for me before. It was purchased after my first — 18-day — trip down the Grand Canyon in paddle boat and raft. Each image signified some aspect of that wonderful trip. Had she forgotten? Why was she asking?

It didn’t matter. I briefly explained. This opened up a conversation I could never have imagined.

Each of the women at the table had at some time in their lives had some sort of river adventure. They each eagerly shared their tales and our dinner conversation was the liveliest in all the years I had been going there. What a delight!

My life was enriched by this experience no matter what brought it about, but I cannot help but think there was a seed planted when the lovely woman trolley driver told me about taking extra care with her seniors. But wait! Did she mean me? No matter.

CHERRIL DOTY is an artist, writer, and creative coach exploring and enjoying the many mysteries of life in the moment. She can be reached by e-mail at Cherril@cherrildoty.com or by phone at (949) 251-3883.