Peggy, I Get It

Years ago Dennis went around Douglas County looking at old buildings and interviewing their owners. The most interesting person he met was an invalid old woman, who was widely known in Kansas as Peggy of the Flint Hills. That was her pen name for the column she wrote for the Topeka Capitol Journal for 55 years.

In spite of being locally famous, she somehow ended up living alone in a stone cottage in rural Douglas County with numerous cats. Peggy was mostly bedfast but the cats weren’t. There was no litter box so the floors were a mess. 

Peggy didn’t seem to care that her life circumstances were less than ideal because she had her books, probably collected throughout her career as a journalist. She was reading them over again, one by one, and when she finished one she gave it away to a visitor. Handing Dennis a book, Peggy remarked, “When they are all gone, I will die.”

At the time I didn’t greatly understand Peggy. I was rather disapproving of her situation, but now I have become an old woman, I identify closely with her. I can’t travel anymore, and if truth be known, I wouldn’t care to even if I could. 

Why put myself through the hassles of travel when I can sit in my comfortable chair with a cup of coffee and open a book. Through a book I visit any place in the world, meet people of every culture, and even travel through time backward or forward.

I never met Peggy and don’t even know her real name. I can only guess that she died, happy with her books. I hope that only a few of them remained in her library. I do sort of wonder what became of her cats.

Copyright 2019 by Shirley Domer

Past the Cusp

Past the cusp of transition into being elderly, I’m now acutely aware of things one needs in order to be active when one reaches this stage. 

Bill gave me a cane years ago, when I was traveling by air and needed some support walking long corridors, Except for that use, I left it propped against a corner in the dining room. Now that has changed. The cane, awkward as it is to handle, has become my frequent companion when I go out. I drop it, it’s hard to fit into the car beside me, and finding a way to keep it accessible when I sit is not easy. It's made to collapse in length, which would be handy, but my hands aren't strong enough to fold it. Those inconveniences, though, aren’t enough to discourage me from using it. 

Holding the handle of a grocery cart is also good at giving me stability while cruising the aisles. Thanks to grocery carts, grocery shopping ha my main form of exercise.

Grab bars in the shower now are indispensible, whereas they used to be a convenience.

I bought a button hook (useless) and nail clippers for designed for handicapped people (also useless ). 

These things are just the tip of an ever-growing iceberg. Recently I bought a rolling walker that has a seat where I can rest when the back pain becomes overwhelming. I’ve had my eye on those for over a year, after seeing an elderly man resting on one during an evening walk. and recently meeting a woman at the grocery store who graciously let me try hers for a moment. Walking with it is as easy as walking a grocery cart. The down side is that I can’t lift it in and out of the car, but when Dennis and I go together, he will do that for me. I’m very lucky to be married to that good man.

Yesterday, UPS delivered another enabler. This time it’s a lumbar brace. I’ve hesitated to open and try it on because the packaging pictures a man with body-builder muscles modeling one. If the model were a frail old woman, I wouldn’t hesitate to try it on. But I know when back pain interferes with my meal preparation, on it will go, if my crippled  hands can use the Velcro fasteners.

That’s the trouble with the design of many “enablers;” often they don’t work. The designers didn’t consider all the forms of disability. Sometimes I wonder if they were even tested. 

If only I had a 3-D printer, I could custom design my own enablers as well as some for my friends.

Copyright 2019 by Shirley Domer