Those 70ish Girls

You’ll say, “It’s not even Thanksgiving, yet. Please tell me you did not forget! Christmas things all have to stay… in boxes that are packed away. What is this world coming to? Is there something we can do?”

I’ve decided to be flexible. On turkey day I’ll be too full to climb the ladder by myself and put nutcrackers on the shelf.

When I’ve finished with that task I’ll take a moment to relax. Should I go all the way and decorate the tree today?

I’ll get extension cords and batteries, and things with lots of calories. I’ll put tea lights in small vases…scented pinecones in other places.

This is the plan that I’ll pursue, but I have something to tell you. I do things somewhat reversed. I always decorate me first.

(Living the dream will continue tomorrow!)

As I sat on the little bench and took in the magnificent view, I began to do something I hadn’t done in many years. I thought about my past. I read somewhere that life is either a big adventure, or it’s nothing. Had my life been nothing? My father had died suddenly when I was eleven. My mother worked as a buyer for a major antique auction house and traveled all over the world; consequently, I had spent most of my growing up years with my maternal grandparents.

I vowed early on in my life that I was not going to have children and I was not going to pursue a high pressure career. I wanted to play it safe, as they say. The fact that my mother left on an overseas trip the day I graduated from college and never came back, further validated both decisions.

I was an accountant for the same company in Seattle for thirty years. Five years ago, at the age of fifty-five, I was able to retire with a good pension. I thought I would be happy living in a retirement community in sunny Florida. I smiled at the thought of my lousy golf game. I wasn’t much better at bridge.

Now here I was living near the beach in Brewster, Massachusetts. My mother had just given me a portfolio of the people she intended to invite for Thanksgiving dinner. Who does that? Could it be that my mother didn’t think I had sense enough to converse with her friends?

I opened the leather binder and began to read about our guests.

Annette Morris, age 45, divorced

Art Therapist

Art therapy is an expressive form of therapy that works to improve a person’s overall well-being through artistic expression. Art therapists use it as part of a healing process, and it can help to reduce a patient’s stress and anxiety, improve self-esteem, and provide many other mental health benefits. Many patients find art therapy helpful as a way of getting assistance with personal development or working through past traumas. It is especially useful for those who have difficulty expressing themselves verbally.

Annette has a masters degree in psychology and has a private clinic in Boston.

Jack Stein, Age 56, divorced, two daughters, 12 and 14

Criminal investigator

Criminal investigators are law enforcement professionals in charge of solving complex crimes such as fraud, homicide, kidnapping, and drug trafficking. They use an extensive range of methods and resources. Jack, like forensic science technicians, collects and examines physical evidence. He also gathers other facts by interviewing people, looking through records, and observing the actions of suspects and persons of interest.

Jack works for the New York Police Department

Akeno and Goro Phin, 60 and 61, their only daughter was killed in an automobile accident. They are raising their eight year old grandson.

Medical interpreters

Akino and Goro provide language services to non-English-speaking patients to help them communicate with doctors, nurses and other medical staff. They own and operate their own business in Hyannis, MA. They have a high level of communication skills in English, Vietnamese, and Chinese.

Caroline Simpson, age 59, separated, one grown son

Volunteer, Alzheimer’s Association Advocate

With more than five million seniors suffering from Alzheimer’s, the Alzheimer’s Association advocates for better research, policies, and care for a significant portion of the senior population. They also provide resources and suggestions to people who want to do their part to advocate for Alzheimer’s patients. As the number of people with Alzheimer’s continues to grow, the organization has an important role to play in helping the seniors and their families affected by the disease.

I closed the binder and wondered what had brought this unlikely group together. When I got back to the house, I went to my mother’s room to ask her just that. She was lying in her bed with her face turned toward the window. I thought she must be looking at the beautiful sunset, but as I moved closer I could see her eyes were closed.

“I’m glad you find our conversation humorous, Stella. I wish to speak to my daughter alone. I’m sure you have something to keep yourself occupied while we discuss a few things of importance.” Stella shrugged her shoulders and turned to leave.

“Okay, Miss Clair, but I’ll be back in a while to give you your morning meds. Get her to eat something Kathleen.”

“Please, Stella…call me Kat. I’m sure my mother does as she pleases. At least she did thirty years ago.”

“Before you say anything, Mother. I have a few basics I need you to clarify. The envelope you sent me included a copy of the deed to this property. The accompanying document stated there were no conditions attached to the transfer of ownership, other than allowing you to stay here for a week during the Thanksgiving holiday. I hope you’re not thinking we’ll have some sort of bonding experience and I’ll feel compelled to invite you to extend your stay.”

“I’m a woman of my word, Kathleen. The house is yours to burn down if that’s what you’d like to do. Just make sure Trixie is taken care of. If you read the document closely you must have noticed watching after Trixie was the only thing I asked of you.”

“I’ve never had a dog, Mother, but I’m sure we’ll manage.”

“Now,” she said. “Since this will be my last Thanksgiving spent here, I would like to invite a few people to join us. It’s very last minute, so we must plan quickly.

You should know a few things about this interesting little group. We’ll have Stella extend the invitations. I feel sure all five will RSVP. Would you please hand me the folder sitting on my bedside table?”

I did as she requested. She had been facing the window all the while we talked, but now she turned in her wheelchair to face me. I could tell my mother was very sick.

“I’m assuming these friends of yours live close by,” I said. “It will be nice to meet some of my neighbors. I was wondering who watched over Trixie while you were away.”

“Yes, I had someone come in. Trixie hates to leave her home. As for our guests…this is a portfolio of the people who will be here the evening of Thanksgiving. Please review it closely. And to answer your question…all of them live on the Cape at different times of the year. Now excuse me dear, I’m going to eat something after which I’ll need to rest. Stella can be a real taskmaster. I find it easier these days to do as she asks.”

I felt like I needed some fresh air…salt air… yes, I needed salt air. I took the portfolio and headed for the beach where I found a bench to sit on.

I stayed there for two hours.

The next morning, I woke up to Trixie’s whining. It appeared she urgently needed to go outside. When I looked at the clock on the night stand, I was shocked to see it was after 10:00 o’clock. I grabbed my robe, picked up my little charge and rushed down the stairs. I didn’t have a leash, but something told me that Trixie wouldn’t run off.

As she looked around for the perfect spot, I took note of my surroundings. It was a beautiful day. I could see Cape Cod Bay which looked like it was about a ten minute walk from where I was standing.

I felt suddenly free…free of my worn out life. For five years I had lived where everyone’s house looked the same, we all dressed alike, and ate the same foods. I didn’t know how my new life would play out. All I knew was at this moment, I felt alive and hungry.

When we got back, we checked the kitchen door and it was unlocked. I found food for Trixie and made myself a cup of much needed coffee. I would scrounge up something for breakfast after I enjoyed my first cup. Trixie began gobbling down her food, and I took my coffee to the sunroom.

Looking out one of the windows, I noticed something I hadn’t seen earlier. There was an old broken down truck parked a short distance from my SUV. I was sure it hadn’t been there when I arrived the evening before.

About that time, I heard Trixie barking in the kitchen. I thought I caught a whiff of bacon frying. Who could be in my kitchen? When I got to the door, I saw a woman busily cooking what looked like breakfast for ten.

“You must be Kathleen,” she said. “I wasn’t sure what you liked for breakfast so I’ve prepared some of everything. Would you like more coffee?”

“You must be my mother’s nurse. You arrived early.” (For some reason, I was not looking forward to seeing my mother.)

“I’m about to take breakfast to her room, she said. “Follow me.”

“Good morning, Kathleen. Come and look. This is my favorite view of the bay.”

I dutifully walked over to the window and stood next to her wheel chair. Without looking at me, She took a tissue and blew her nose before she began to speak.

“What would you say if I told you I’ve been in a coma for the last thirty years?”

“If you think I’m going to swallow that one, you’re crazy. Besides, until I received the envelope, I had forgotten you ever existed.”

“Goodness sakes alive,” the voice behind us said rather gleefully. “Ain’t this going to be all kinds of fun?”

Here I am, once again, headed for the tea room.

I’m driving fast ’cause if I’m late, I know there might not be room.

Each month we have a birthday lunch, we laugh and eat our fill.

We made the climb and now it’s time to embrace “over the hill.”

I hear a noise and see a light…behind me is a cop.

It’s the same one I saw last month. This time I guess I’ll stop.

I roll my window down and he takes my driver’s license.

He saw me speeding last month and he said at least  twice since.

He was rather rude when he said my license wasn’t valid.

I wondered… should I call ahead and order chicken salad?

I’m getting really nervous now. I see Linda from afar.

I’m sure she must be speeding in her convertible Jaguar.

The cop gives me a warning. I drive as fast as I’m allowed.

When I turn right onto Main Street I can see there’s quite a crowd.

I’ll think of a good reason when the girls ask why I’m tardy.

I’m usually the first one there… for every birthday party.

I find a place to sit and say I can’t have more caffeine.

I had four cups this morning with the guys at Dairy Queen.