Twice A Child

  I was driving through a seniors living complex the other day, passing by a lady tending to her garden outside her patio door.

She smiled and waved at me.

I smiled and waved back.

She didn't know me; nor I her.

I was just someone passing by her apartment and she was being friendly.

And she was not the only one.

In my part time gig as companion caregiver to seniors (the irony is not lost on me as I am officially a senior now also at 64!), I see and meet a lot of seniors.

Both young and old.

From all backgrounds, economics, shapes, sizes and families.

And they are all friendly; all willing to be a friend, or at the very least, an acquaintance.

Ready to have a chit chat or a few words here and there; to say hello and goodbye and nice to meet you.

I have recently started going to play Mahjong at the local seniors centre every week.

Yes, I joined the local 55+ club awhile back and have been enjoying some of their events and programs.

Everyone is very friendly.

The first week I went to play Mahjong, I went up to a table of four that was already full, asking if I could watch and learn as I was just starting out.

I was immediately welcomed, given a chair to sit at the corner and watch over the shoulder of one of the players.

They enthusiastically shared some of the rules, including names of the tiles, etc.

The next round, one of those players offered to take me aside and teach me!

Yes, she gave up her game and took me and two other newbies to another table and she taught us how to play!

How so very friendly, unselfish, and generous, I thought,

The next week, I approached another table, already with three players and immersed in a game.

I asked if I could watch them and learn, as it was another version of the game.

They, too, welcomed me and were very happy to have me sit and watch.

But the next game, I was asked to play!  

And so I did.

They were patient with me, helping to explain this and that, and the rules.

By the end of the two hours, we had played many games, and I had even scored big in one hand!

No Mahjong yet.  

Save that for another day.

All were so friendly, welcoming, and happy to have me.

And it reminded me of being in Kindergarten.

Everyone is friendly and happy and talkative.

Being a young child is free from judgment, achievements, cliques.

You just show up, and you have friends.

The nurses in my mother's care home used to say "Once a man, twice a child".

I think they were referring to the adult diapers they had to change on the regular.

But I think it also applies to the mentality; the mindset of social connection.

There is no hierarchy within seniors.  (Perhaps there is, but the fact that they/we are all well aware that our demise is imminent and may arrive at any moment, THAT fact supersedes the fact that so-and-so makes more money or lives in a better house or which political party they support.)

In fact, the table I was with was "joking" about how everyone's demise is imminent, especially since some of the people in that room were 90(!!), and others well in their 80's(!!) and that the group's numbers was ebbing and more people were needed as conveners and players.

Perhaps it is that sense of mortality that makes it easy to connect and socialize and have a no-holds-barred conversation.

And I would also like to mention:  there were no phones at that Mahjong table.

All socializing was done in person; face to face.

No one was checking for updates or emails.

It was refreshing.  Invigorating.

The room was full of laughter, conversation, and of course the obligatory calling out of the tiles "Two Bamboo", "North Wind", or "Red Dragon", as they were thrown away.

I am glad to be a part of the new Kindergarten.

Perhaps they should come up with a new word for it:  "OldenFolksenGarten" or something like that.

I'll get in touch with Webster's Dictionary.

I am sure it will be a contender for word of the year.