Life After 70
My wife and I are professionals who have worked hard and, we like to think, won respect of our colleagues. We have been married for forty five years and have three daughters. They are successful career women and we are justifiably proud of their achievements. Although spread out over three cities and two countries, ours is a close knit family. I have lived and worked in five countries on four continents and we have been fortunate in being able to travel to interesting destinations on business as well as for pleasure. We had our ups and downs, emotionally and physically, but overall gods of fortune were kind to us.

It so happens that we were on a cruise to Alaska when I crossed into my eighth decade. I did not feel any different on the day I turned seventy than on the day I was sixty nine - or sixty one if you asked me then. We had spent last few years in helping our adult kids get over their physical and emotional crises. Even in normal circumstances it was our practice on visits to our daughters that the wife took over the cooking, I did the dishes and both helped with other household chores and gardening. When kids visited us we took time off from work and looked after the grandchildren in addition to preparing meals, cleaning, washing, even making their beds while they renewed their old friendships. But what difference does a year make! Something vital changed when I stepped into seventies and approached the average life expectancy of a Canadian male. First, the short term memory departed, perhaps for good. Then, appearances to the contrary, my energy level dropped. I do not seem to have much get up and go even when I can remember what to get up for. Taking over the households on visits to younger generation is no longer an option just as the extra workload when they visit us is hard to handle. To state the truth bluntly, we are in a transition from caretakers of our progeny to the caretaken by them.

The better half, three quarter some would say, is working hard to implement the transition. There are two important considerations in this process. First is the eventual move on some unforeseen but not too distant date to a smaller accommodation and second, the uncomplicated state of our affairs when we have taken our final leave. To get the ball rolling, she is reducing the 'possessions' cluttering our home which now shelters just two instead of the five it once did. Acquaintances are carting away for a pittance what they can use, charities are offered whatever they can take and the recyclables are transported to appropriate depots. The rest, a fully functional refrigerator, solid cupboards, a set of office furniture and miscellaneous household items are being sent to the Refuse Resource Station, commonly called The Dump, at the cost of several hundred dollars. Old appliances are gradually being replaced by new fool proof wonders of latest technology which will see us through our years of growing feebleness of body and mind without the expense and the hassle of waiting for repairmen to do what I would have happily done when my muscles were taut and limbs strong. Trusty ten year old Subaru Outback is being replaced by a new one that will serve us trouble free for our remaining period of independence - years before our driving license is taken away by a worried daughter if not by the province. We are considering the resumption of the delivery of the local paper so that we can check the obituary columns and make sure we do not miss any memorial service we should attend. After all if we do not go to our friends' final adieu who will come to our’s.

On the positive note, we are reviewing our priorities for the remaining good years, not taking any specific number for granted. Having only recently settled, albeit provisionally, the unpleasant matters like wills and the funeral arrangements, we are focusing on what we wish to accomplish. This includes the wife working on complete recovery from her recent illness, finding a publisher for the novel I have just completed, volunteer activities to help the needy, travels to distant lands we have always wanted to visit but somehow never did and the timing and the best ways to fold our businesses. However, the most important aspect of this situation is not what we do or plan to do but how we feel within ourselves and towards each other. To this end, we renew in our hearts our forty five year old oath - to love and cherish the other; for better or worse - meaning that the better off will ungrudgingly look after the worse off whoever it happens to be at a particular time. Last but not the least, every night before closing our eyes we thank each other for the kindnesses during the day and exchange “I love you” just in case we do not open them again.