Category: Retirement

Getting ready for retirement

Doing what's right, Health

The Kindness Project in Troubled Times

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Not long ago, I was blogging about a Kindness Project. I left off at Week 7 and 8. The next post was a bit of middle of the night COVID anxiety but I think it’s well time I started focusing on kindness again. I’ve been going over our weeks since then and reflecting on Jamie Thurston’s book, Kindness the Little Thing that Matters Most, and how it has lessons to teach us, especially in times like these. From where I left off, until today, our world has been changed.

Credit Michael de Adder Halifax Chronicle Herald March 24, 2020.
Follow Michael on twitter @deAdder

Week 9

February 23 – 29

 “Pay for Someone’s Journey”

By the end of February, COVID19 had exited Asia, travelled within Europe and had now landed in North America. At this point, all cases in Canada related to travel outside of the country. It became a certainty that I wouldn’t be paying for any journeys outside of Canada, for a while.  

My son and his family had a Disneyland trip booked for the end of May. If they lose anything in having to cancel the trip…I guess I’ll help them out a bit with that journey when they can finally take it. “Pay for Someone’s Cancelled Journey” is still kindness.

Week 10

March 1 – 7

 “Remember Where You Came From (and where you are going)”

This theme stresses empathy for the different places people might be in their lives. The young families, like we once were, the seniors in long term care as we will someday be. The same day the first case was announced in Alberta, the first community transmission in Canada recorded,  my niece had her first baby. I reached out to her and tried to support her from a distance as neither of us were comfortable with visitors to wee Parker. We still haven’t cuddled my great-nephew. We knew my brother, who passed away in 2004, would miss the opportunity for that cuddle. We didn’t think we would.

The age demographic of COVID’s victims across the world was heavily into the senior years. My husband turned 65 last year; I’m approaching 60.  Although not the highest risk, our daughter, as a nurse, was starting to think about the possibilities of poor outcomes due to age and the “co-morbidities” of heart disease and asthma.

We thought about the lost wisdom as so many seniors fell to the disease around the world.

Week 11

March 8 – 14

  “Be A Seat Vigilante”

 This section resonated in an entirely different way than it would have before March 2020. The book talks about giving up your seat to someone who might need it more than you. At this point, Alberta’s cases were returning travellers, but our observations of other countries made us wary. My ED nurse daughter had now asked us to stay home. She was actively planning for the virus to arrive and knew enough about it that she didn’t want us out and about. Universities in Alberta began to cancel their lectures due to class sizes.

“Giving up your seat to someone who needs it more than you”…started to become “giving up your activities to save someone more vulnerable than you.”

Week 12

 March 15 to 21

 “Apologize”

I had my final outing on March 16. My brother was having a procedure done at a hospital in Calgary, and as his guardian, I was there to support him and sign his documentation. My daughter works at this hospital, and she popped up to hug her uncle. I asked for a hug too because we just didn’t know when the next hug would be.

Alberta got our first case of “community transmission” this week, bringing anxiety levels a little higher.

On my way home, I picked up prescriptions to limit excursions, and the Costco was insanely busy. We were hearing about “social distancing,” and running the gauntlet to the pharmacy in that crowd had me thinking it was time to change pharmacies. I apologized as I asked people to move aside to let me through, and as I spoke with the pharmacist, I had a feeling that a lot of people would be subjecting her to some behaviour that should get her an apology. The stress was evident. I wished her well, apologizing in my head on behalf of any who would not show her patience over the next while.

People would begin working from home this week and attempt to homeschool their kids as classrooms shuttered their doors. Recreation facilities would close, gatherings above 50 people were not recommended, and a state of health emergency was declared. Our first COVID19 death was recorded this week.

There was not going to be much room for patience.

Week 13

 March 22 to 28

“Be Nice to Parking Attendants”

The message here was, “When we judge people by their profession, we cease to see them as individuals.”

By March 27, we had started to see closures of non-essential services. Who was staying open? Grocery Stores. Trucking Companies. Food Delivery, the people getting us fed and making sure we got our essentials. Suddenly, jobs with little social standing were “essential,” grocery clerks, truckers and delivery drivers were lauded as heroes as they placed themselves “out there” while we stayed safely home.

Be kind if you are in the grocery store even as you feel the stress brought by waiting in line, one way aisles and picked over shelves.

Buy a trucker a cup of coffee and a meal at a drive through. Give them the fist pump for an airhorn blast. (My husband was a trucker for a while. Trust me he LOVED when the kids did that!)

Yell, “Thank you!!”  to the delivery driver (from a distance) when he drops your online order at the door.

We are all in a better place than we would be if not for our new heroes. Be kind.

Week 14

March 29 – April 4

 “Speak Up”

Be strong for those who can’t be, and a voice for those who need it.

This week there were 20 patients hospitalized in Alberta, 8 in ICU and another death. It was time to “speak up,” and what we began saying was, “stay home if you can, wash your hands frequently, practice social distancing.” We were speaking up for our elders,  for our immunocompromised, for those with pre-existing conditions…protecting them by staying home.

Week 15

April 5 – 10

 “Share Good News”

We needed this more than ever, as day after day, we have been subjected to constant coverage of skyrocketing death tolls in Europe, New York City and a creeping of death tolls in Canada. What’s the GOOD news?

I guess the good news is the concerts put out on Twitter by celebrities and choirs, the puppy videos, the hilarious isolation challenges.

For some reason, more than one family member sent me the video of a couple of seniors trying to catch snow in their mouths as their garage door opened…thinking it might be an activity we could do. Lord knows we can’t sing.

The good news is people seeing truckers and cashiers recognized as essential, health care workers receiving ovations and lights and sirens drive-bys as they change shifts.

The good news is the creativity coming out of people stranded at home.

The good news is the discovery that the human touch is a superpower. We didn’t know it was a superpower. Now we do, and boy will that superpower be launched in full force when the time comes.

The good news is my son’s test for COVID 19 has come back negative. His wife and I have never been so happy to see a man-cold.

 The good news is…this will end, and many of us will be changed for the better.

Doing what's right, Health

Into the Fire.

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Well 2020…

Occasionally nothing gets written when I can’t think of anything to say. These last few weeks, while it is true, nothing has been written, this time it’s because I have too MUCH going on in my head, and I haven’t known where to begin.

The doodle on this page was done around 1 a.m. as I tried to “capture” some of the thoughts clanging around in my head so I could sleep.

First thoughts were for my daughter, an Emergency Nurse, running INTO the fire of COVID 19 while the rest of us shelter.

Secondly, my daughter, a mother, working long hours and not seeing much of her kids. There may come the point where she will have to isolate herself from her kids and her husband. These little ones age 1, 3 and 5 will wonder where she’s gone.

Lastly,  the two groups of people who will influence the conditions my daughter will face.

Will she work in an overwhelmed health system making decisions such as Italy has had to make, around WHO to treat, rather than HOW to treat?

Will she become ill herself from ongoing exposure to the virus? Admittedly this is probably more a matter of “when” than “if.”

Will she be among the health workers that have…died?

Who influences these outcomes the most?

 Me.

You.

We can be people who chose to ignore recommendations from our Chief Medical Officer and don’t practice social distancing. We can contribute to an exponential spread of the virus and a health system unable to keep up with the onslaught. We can be those who pour fuel on the fire my daughter and her colleagues must enter.

Or, we can be people who chose to follow recommendations from our Chief Medical Officer. Don’t visit, keep our distance while out and don’t go out and about unless we need to. We can decelerate the fire my daughter and her colleagues must enter.

Being apart is hard, so hard, I get it. My further away grandkids were coming for their first sleepover last weekend. It had to be cancelled. An Instagram video call had to suffice. We have been babysitting the closer grandkids once a week and were really starting to settle in and enjoy this scheduled time. That, too, is gone for now. For them, it was a Facetime chat that will have to be enough.

The worst part is all the unknowns. How long? How bad? I’m a planner, and it seems there is nothing I can do.

But

I CAN stay in as much as possible, get my groceries delivered, do the video calls. It is my contribution to saving our health care workers from the horror experienced in Italy.  

We had warning; there’s no excuse for us allowing this to happen. As people, as a government, as a country…as a society.

May you all stay well. Those of us 50 and up have an increased risk of complications and death; those 65 and up even more so. If you have people in your life who are immunocompromised (as I do), they are also at significant risk, no matter how young they are.

As my daughter and I exchanged, “I miss you” messages, I promised her a party when it’s all over.

“You’ll come over for dinner; we’ll eat all kinds of “sh*t” we shouldn’t. You’ll drink too much wine and have to stay over. In the morning, we’ll have mimosas and waffles (with bacon!) for brunch.

It’s a date. We don’t know THE date, but it’s a date.

Keep her safe for me.

Doing what's right

Still Being Kind Week 7 and 8

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I’ve still been on board the kindness train the last couple of weeks, still a “Kindness Ambassador” as described in my last post, “The Kindness Project”

https://pathtothepasture.com/2020/02/06/the-kindness-project/

Week 7’s theme is, “Send Kind Thoughts”

I thought of several people in my circle who could surely use some kind thoughts…and then I “met” Candice George @candiceaartist on twitter. Candice is Wetsuwetsen. You may have heard of the Wetsuwetsen people in the last couple of weeks. Protesters. Against a pipeline. The media was focusing only on these protesters who opposed the pipeline and out of the chaos came a young woman attempting to bring a voice to the majority in her community who supported economic development and sought a peaceful resolution with those opposed.

We all have our reasons for supporting or not supporting either side of this issue and there have certainly been “unkind” thoughts all over twitter. Through it all, Candice has remained calm and tried to share another view to Canadians. I came to respect her and her approach. At one point, Candice was attacked by someone claiming her followers were white supremacists. (For real)

To which I replied,

“Sweetheart, I’m a white, rather supreme, Grandma to 6 grandchildren and 1 great-grandchild who carry indigenous blood. This Supreme White lady thanks you for being a positive role model.”

Was that kind to throw a lighthearted thought her way amid a trying time? Perhaps.

What was REALLY kind was her response.

❤ Snachaliyah “I honour you for honouring me!” Keep on rocking as a supreme atsoo!!

We were kind to each other. One “settler”, one “indigenous”… kind to each other as human beings. While presenting her elder’s side of the story I have yet to hear her swear or call another disrespectful names. This REALLY stands out on twitter, especially when in dialogue about such contentious issues.

Support her side of the story or not, this is a stellar human being, and she should be admired for her leadership. Be kind to Candice, or you’ll have to go through the supreme atsoo!

Week 8’s kindness theme hits closer to home. “Give a gift to a local school.”

I send plenty of money to local schools with 18 grandchildren passing through with various fundraisers. I eat a lot of cookie dough, popcorn, pies, pizza and chocolate, own a variety of cards and Christmas wrap. I wanted to do something unique to this week, though and chose Breakfast Club Canada who is active in High River. I had to fend for myself sometimes as a kid, and I know that there’s an impact when kids aren’t well fed. Turns out soda crackers and peanut butter isn’t exactly rocket fuel…and some kids show up at school with less than that. You can’t think of anything else when you’re hungry, so I’m hoping my wee contribution will help a kid through.

The book I’m hoping to publish by the time I’m 80 (It’s good to have goals) talks about the villagers who kept me afloat during my “fending for myself” moments. Now I’m a villager and I hope it helps.

Tell me what you have done, or would do following the week 7 and 8 markers. I’d love to hear from you!

Doing what's right

The Kindness Project

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One of the things I notice when exploring the virtual world of social media is the unkindness. Twitter is the worst, to the point I had to quit looking at comments for fear of becoming horrified. I peeked back in the other day and saw a local traffic commentator posting what someone had said to her.

“omg, you seriously have to get rid of that senile old bat Leslie Horton.”

Leslie is quirky and fun and brings joy to my day and the day of many others. If this individual doesn’t like her, the city does have other morning news shows. So why? I have no idea really but have made two observations:

The anonymity of platforms like twitter give courage to the unkind.

Unkind, low-brow posts by those in authority (you know who you are) seems to have lended legitimacy to those who used to hide in the shadows..

What can we do about it? Be kind.

My new community in High River, Alberta, Canada, has embraced kindness by dubbing several of us “Kindness Ambassadors” based on Jaime Thurston’s book, “Kindness – the little thing that matters most.”

I jumped on that bandwagon pretty quickly after a month of social media hate speech. Kindness. The word SPOKE to me.

I’m catching up a bit here because I’ve become a little “unretired” (A whole other post) but here’s where we are at so far.

Week 1. Give kind comments. No Leslie does not enjoy being called a senile old bat. If you don’t like her style change the channel. If you do enjoy her style, tell her so. (I love you Leslie!)

Week 2. Be Kind to Unkind People. Oh, there’s Leslie again. She’s been known to be kind to unkind people by assuring they get themselves a Snickers bar. The Snickers company themselves have participated in her quest to sweeten the world a little when it gets a little sour.

Week 3. Share Your Food. We’ve always been active supporters of our local food bank but when I moved to this community I came across a local organization known as High River Food Rescue. These folks redistribute edible food to our community that would otherwise go to waste, through markets held twice weekly. Seriously, how cool is this?

https://www.wildrosecommunityconnections.com/wild-rose-food-connections

Week 4. Do Something for Nothing. Now I know sometimes it’s hard to become an official part of a volunteer organization because of other things you’ve got going on. Sometimes life is hard. I GET it! Oh boy, do I get it. Sometimes though, you offer to pick the grandkids up at school, or you shovel the neighbour’s walk, or you make sure a Mom of a newborn has some ready-made meals, or you paint someone’s basement because they can’t physically do it themselves and they can’t afford to hire someone. Whatever it is, do it and expect nothing in return. My best “do somethings” have been things I’ve done in secret. My Dad won a Volunteer award from the AB Government back in 2013, and in his speech, he told a story of harvesting a sick neighbour’s field. When he asked his Dad if they were going to tell the neighbour they had done it; his Dad replied, “Getting credit is not why we do it.”

Week 5. Smile. That one is easy when someone is smiling back, a little tougher when faced with a scowl. On week 5 I threw myself out there and smiled at many very unhappy looking people. Very rarely was the smile returned. I had chosen the pick of the litter. The bottom line is, I don’t know why they are miserable. I don’t know why one particular lady got so upset so quickly at such a small thing. I don’t know. So I smile at them. Maybe it confuses them but maybe somewhere deep down it is better than being ignored.

Week 6. This week. Switch off and disconnect. Face to face conversation allows us to connect as human beings. I used to have face to face conversations with students, staff and faculty daily. I have formed lifelong connections with some of them.

Now I am a contract worker, writing from home. Beyond the undeniable attraction of working in stretchy pants and a -40 commute that does not require me to go outside, I miss these connections. My team and I meet via video conference or phone, and it’s just not the same as having those co-workers who grab you from your desk to go for a popcorn run or those who stop by with a cup of coffee and a chat. I’ve decided the occasional drive to connect with the people I “work with” is going to be integral to my survival.

Until then, this week’s “switch off and disconnect” will be about my grandchildren. I’m babysitting all day tomorrow. No tablet, no movies, no Facebook, no blogging…just some good old face to face with some of the most entertaining folks in my world.

And if they act like little horrors…I will try to be kind. 😉

Doing what's right

The Face of Homelessness

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Black Friday. The real sign that we have swung into the Christmas season. As we are inundated by appeals from the Mustard Seed and Salvation Army among others, the dream I had last night isn’t all that surprising. I was at a Tim Hortons (how very Canadian of me) and a down and out fellow shuffled into the place and rattled enough change onto the counter to buy a large double-double. He eyed the doughnuts on display, the menu above the cashiers, and he sat down with his coffee. At some point in the dream, I bought the fellow breakfast to the disapproving stares of others in the building. As I paid for his meal, something compelled me to tell them why I was doing it. I can still feel the emotion of my response.

This is Bill. Bill is why.

Homelessness often starts with mental illness or addiction. Our home growing up had one which led to the other. Our mother didn’t become homeless, only because her husband took “for better for worse, in sickness and in health” rather seriously.

I won the genetic lottery, not in looks but mental wellness… for the most part. (The name “Crazy Woman”  given to me by a couple of our indigenous instructors notwithstanding). My brother won a good dose of charm and a propensity for addiction. Nothing he chose, nothing he wanted, just the luck of the draw.

Best Friends

His struggles began to see light in his teenage years and for many years he struggled. Lost licenses, lost marriage, lost respect.

Finally, he moved from hospital to a treatment facility and came out with the addiction pushed to the background. He got married again and had three beautiful children who he loved to the moon and back. One with the family dimple, one who looked a lot like him and one who possessed a natural joy. He went above and beyond for a Dad of this era; after a full day of work, his evening often consisted of bathing the kids, getting them into their PJ’s, folding laundry and choosing their clothes for the next day.

He loved every minute of it.

For 12 years, he worked, supported his family, rejoined society and loved those kids. Then one day it slipped a little when he got a taste of a new addiction. Often it isn’t the original addiction that gets someone who has walked that path before…

He slipped completely after our Dad died. Dad had always held him up when the going got tough, just as he had with my mother. I can’t imagine what it must have felt like to lose that safety net entirely. I know it was painful to watch him fall.

 One thing remained constant. He loved those kids.

He wasn’t able to see his children during those tough times. He sunk deeper; that loss was the toughest of all. As his addiction took more control, he ended up living in his truck in the parking lot of our childhood church: this good looking happy child, this handsome outdoors-loving teen, this loving father… was homeless.

It seemingly ended on a train track in Southern Alberta one night. What Bill didn’t know was he still lived in the hearts of his kids, especially the oldest who remembered the good times best. She remembered him still when she got married last summer, and I was honoured to join her other auntie walking her down the aisle in his place.

My niece had given her uncle a picture of her Dad to take throughout the day, to the ceremony, awaiting her at the altar, to picture taking, and at the reception, joining us at our table. At one point in the evening he even joined her and uncle in a dance.

She never stopped missing him. Addicted or not, homeless or not…she missed who he had been in their lives.  This oldest girl has tried to help the younger two know him the best she can.

As her sister plans a wedding and her brother reestablishes his relationship with his sisters, she misses who he could have been in their lives.

Next year Bill becomes a Grandpa and I know what a special thing being a grandparent is. (The baby will call me Grauntie! )

I’m a Grauntie!

My brother wasn’t at his best during his moments of crisis but I loved him too (even when I didn’t like him) because I remembered the entirety of his journey.

As many communities face an opioid crisis and are repelled by lost souls more visible than ever, it’s hard to remember their humanity. Their previous lives may have included parenthood, home ownership, satisfying work…Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters. We remembered this during my husband’s birthday party at a park in Calgary, AB this summer.

Behind this photo is a fellow who entered the park, pushing a shopping cart. One of my girls brought him food from our barbecue, he rescued our ball from the river, and we expressed our heartfelt thanks. (It was rather amazing what he could invent from the contents of that cart.) The most important moment of that day for this guy? It was probably when my husband turned to him and asked, “So what’s your story?” Hubby told him he didn’t have to share, but my husband caring to hear it was likely a humanizing moment. He did share, and his journey wasn’t far from my brother’s. By the end of the day, the grandkids were asking him if he wanted the plastic tablecloths, and we left him some more food for his next meal… not because we pitied him but because we were just helping a guy out who joined our party for a while.

We all thought of Bill.

When next you see someone camped out or existing in some marginal way, I would never ask you to approach, some addictions are truly scary. I only ask that you adjust your mind to their humanity, to this face of homelessness.

This is Bill. This is why.

Happy 63rd birthday bro…

Health, Retirement

Worry

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I can still visualize myself on the phone with my Dad. I was beside the telephone, cord held in my hand, one knee on the bench beside the phone. You see, once upon a time young’ uns, we needed a bench because a long conversation meant staying in one place for a while. Heck, could you non-wrinkly folk even run one of those phones?

I can’t remember what I was worried about. (which probably means my Dad’s advice made sense.) He said,

“Why worry? It’s doesn’t solve anything.”

Here I am, not far from the age he would have been at the time, and I realized today that I finally understand and am living his advice.

I recently had an excisional biopsy. The 3-year-olds in my life were all suddenly asking about a mole I’ve always had. When the second one commented I thought,

“Maybe I should have a look at this thing.”

It had changed colour and size but being in an area semi-protected by the sun, I wasn’t too concerned but had the doctor take a look. Doctor wanted a biopsy done to make sure.

There was a time when low risk or not, I would have been awake at night in a state of, if not panic, at least…worry.

I’m not worried at all. This is today, I’m another week or two from hearing the results, and until the results come back, the biopsy doesn’t exist aside from the stitches I’m having removed today.

It’s not denial.

It’s…

“Why worry? It doesn’t solve anything.”

Thanks Dad.

Retirement

Making it Work

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It’s been just over a month since my last post. Since then, I’ve still been writing, but I will actually be paid for those scribbles. The paying customer always comes first!

This blog, and the book I’m working on feed my soul. The technical writing feeds my belly! As we strip our yard in preparation for new topsoil and sod, I am particularly grateful for some extra cash coming in.

It’s a curious thing. For years we watched our money go out…it always has, to varying degrees of course but it was a little less daunting watching it go out when there was also significant money coming in. For the first time, we are scratching away at our savings and watching it be replaced in smaller increments than it used to be.

And so I do some paid writing, mainly reports for departments throughout the college I used to work for. I know more about that college than I ever knew in my ten years as a full-time employee! I also look for random opportunities to bring money into my vacation fund. (I know, I know, I’m supposed to be retired what do I need a VACATION for?!)

This aspiring writer has entered the newspaper business…so to speak.

My husband and I have a paper route! We were walking along this street quite regularly to get some exercise. When a paper route became available in the area, I thought, “Why not get PAID to go for a walk?” We live in a small town, so this is just a once a week commitment, hence the pay is a tad underwhelming.

Underwhelming pay aside, it adds about a thousand bucks to my vacation goals over the year. (Tuscany for my 60th birthday!) The exercise we get is a bonus. It’s incredible how fast someone over 55 can make herself walk at minus 30!

After these writing contracts are done, I’m hoping to land one I’ve done before. Writing descriptions of wine and their vineyards for a wine auction was a lot of fun, and I even learned a little bit about wine in the process.

Perhaps I should start “research” for that one early…just in case?

Make that Italian wine…simultaneous vacation and work research, now that is what I call efficient!

Salute!

Doing what's right

The Gift of Getting Old

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If you’ve reached retirement, you’ve aged a bit. Along with hot flashes, bad knees or hip replacements (or whatever your particular signs of aging are) comes the gift of all those years and the experiences they’ve brought us.

Some are not so lucky. Today is Green Shirt Day.

Green Shirt Day was born out of the loss of son and brother, it was born out of his organ donation and how it inspired a spike in organ donor registrations across Canada following the Humboldt Broncos bus crash. We know Logan Boulet’s parents. They are good people. It doesn’t surprise me that their son did something so selfless. Doing the right thing is what they do. That’s why, on a day when other parents may have stayed in bed, they’ve launched Green Shirt Day and have spent the last year since their loss spreading the word about having the “Kitchen Table Talk” to make your family aware of your wishes. Today has been one year since they laid an ear against their son’s chest and listened to his heart for the very last time. Today someone else feels that heart beating.

Along with that heart, 5 other people benefited from Logan’s donation.

Another mother is honouring Green Shirt Day today. Her daughter Paige was 17 when she passed… Like Logan, she helped 6 people to live better lives when hers was over too soon. None of these parents grieves any less but maybe there’s some small comfort in knowing those hearts are still beating.

We’ve been given a gift, living this long. If something happens to end our run…we could pass that gift along. We’re done with ’em. Sign up for organ donation. Tell your family (they will make the final decision so they need to know).

Links on how to donate in Canada’s provinces are here: https://www.canada.ca/en/public-health/services/healthy-living/blood-organ-tissue-donation.html#a2

If you are new to organ donation registry today, I’d love to hear from you.

Retirement

Senior

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What is a “senior” exactly?

You have the Collins English Dictionary version:

 (adj) superior in rank or standing; older; of or for older pupils

(n) senior person

I like to think we fit the adjective definition of “superior in rank or standing.” We are definitely “older” (but still younger than someone!)

As for the noun…

When do you actually cross the wondrous threshold which makes you a “senior person”?

50?

I was able to join the Canadian Association of Retired Persons (CARP) at the age of 50 which entitled me to a number of benefits and discounts. I pay far less for home and cellular phone than I used to!

http://www.carp.ca/benefits-a-z/

55?

Several businesses gave me senior discounts when I hit 55. I celebrated my 55th birthday by going to Humpty’s Restaurant. Better than champagne at a swanky restaurant was getting my shiny green Humpty’s Emerald Club card which entitles me to 10% off , 20% on Tuesdays if you can manage to keep track of the days of the week post-retirement. (They also have marvellous sugar and jam packets on offer for the financially strapped kleptomaniac.)

https://www.humptys.com/emerald-55-club-card-registration/

60?

Many organizations and businesses called my husband a senior at 60. When he realized other folks were referring to him as a senior, he immediately started feeling “superior in standing” and then applied for the Canada Pension Plan (CPP). Some people wait until they are 65 for this one but after some number crunching, we decided applying at 60 could work for us.

https://www.canada.ca/en/services/benefits/publicpensions/cpp/cpp-benefit/apply.html

65?

This is the big one. Hubby turns 65 this year and will be eligible for the Old Age Security payment. (“Security” may be overstating the effect this amount has on a senior, but it helps!)

Additionally, many 65-year-olds are eligible for the Guaranteed Income Supplement, and their spouses age 60 – 64 may be entitled to an allowance.

https://www.canada.ca/en/services/benefits/publicpensions/cpp/old-age-security/payments.html

A 65-year-old here in my home province, may qualify for the Alberta Seniors Benefit which includes vision and health care. As a heart attack survivor on drugs to prevent a repeat, that medical benefit is precious to my hubby, and he is precious to ME, so I’m happy about this too.

https://www.alberta.ca/alberta-seniors-benefit.aspx

Here we are, still trying to decide if we are “senior persons”.

This list of discounts is sorted by category and age. It appears we are, or are not, a senior depending on who’s looking. Sometimes the discount is only given if we ask about it and follow with proof of age so a list of opportunities is helpful!

https://carleton.ca/cura/wp-content/uploads/Canadian-Senior-Discounts.pdf

But this, folks, this is the best indication of our senior status. 

This invitation, complete with pom poms glued on the corners, makes it official!

We received an invitation from our grandson for the school’s Seniors Tea. I can’t think of a better way to make it official. We weren’t available for these events for the older kids, still working and living two hours away. It is sheer joy to RSVP with a resounding,

“YES!” knowing the school is just 15 minutes away.

Looks like I’m a senior and happy to embrace it! “Tea” means cookies and cake you know… I am IN!

If you have any tips on discounts and subsidies, let me know! I’d love to hear from some of you.

Doing what's right

Praise

granny18

Motivational quotes and admonitions appear on social media sites and in self-help books, discouraging us from needing praise to feel good about ourselves. It’s good advice, and I know I’ve gotten better at flying my own kite no matter which way the winds around me are blowing.  If you find yourself in a relationship or an environment where accolades are thin on the ground, you could quickly flounder if the approval of others is the only thing behind your self-esteem. 

It’s important for us to observe and acknowledge our own excellent work and the positive steps we’ve taken in our lives. If you don’t have a shoulder injury, pat yourself on the back. You are good enough without the approval of others.

BUT

(There is always a BUT with this one isn’t there?)

I wonder if in trying to make our world less dependent on praise we’ve become stingy with it.

It’s good to not RELY on the approval of others but does this automatically lead to the argument that giving praise is BAD?

I don’t think so.

When a boss, co-worker, friend or family member sees what you are about, what you have done and gives you kudos for it, it’s not necessarily about giving you praise you NEED. It does create awareness that you aren’t the only one out there that knows you are doing incredible things in the world.

Alternatively, there’s a trend in some workplaces, mandating managers to give praise. Mandated praise… let that sink in. Nothing sucks the meaning out of a compliment faster than suspecting the giver is reading from a script.

Go team!

If it smells insincere, that’s how it’s received…like a bit of food gone “off.”   Give praise…but only when you feel it is truly deserved.

As for me and this particular kite I’m flying, I’m having fun writing this blog; I’m exercising my communication skills. I know I’m doing okay for someone relatively new to this game.

When I received a compliment from one of the best writers I know, it meant something to me and was an encouragement.

Did I NEED her encouragement to keep putting these thoughts rambling around my head out into the world? No.

But it still felt good.

The same person is really good at giving me constructive criticism when I need it. I learn from it, and that’s okay too.

Get out there folks, give compliments and encouragement when they are due.

I think it may be okay.