“Well, everyone knows what the big deal was about in 1967, being that it was Canada’s centennial year and all. Lots of celebrations and hoopla went on across this great country in honour of such a great milestone. It was a good year, in deed, but it didn’t start out that way for me. I started the year off with another dang birthday. It wasn’t just any birthday, it was my seventieth. Time seemed to be moving on way too fast. All of a sudden I seemed to know what old meant. Because all of a sudden, I was part of that category. Well, hell, that sure took the wind out of my sails. I didn’t feel old, but there I was, seventy.
I’ll tell you, it sure don’t take long for age to creep up on you! They say time flies when you’re having fun. Well, I guess that we were having a lot of fun because before we could think about it, I was having to blow out seventy candles on a birthday cake.
It hadn’t seemed so bad a few years earlier when it was Logan’s big day. No other birthday had ever affected me so much. I hadn’t ever really put too much thought into age before. I had been raised in a generation where dying was as much a part of life as living. But death wasn’t what was really affecting me. I guess it was more the fact that I felt so dang good, but I had become so blasted old.
That was a birthday that seemed to set me back a little. I sure didn’t feel like we were getting closer to the end of our journey, but three score and ten is pretty much considered the normal person’s life expectancy. They say anything past that is borrowed time. It’s not very encouraging when you get there.
I don’t hear the young folks mention that term anymore. People talk about decades, but I haven’t heard anyone say score for some time. The old timers used score as a term to mean twenty. Quite common terminology when I was a youngster.
Ma and Pa had both passed on by this time. They had both succumbed to old age. Ma was ninety-four, and Pa had been ninety-five when he died. Actually, I think Pa died of a broken heart after seeing my brother Newton die of pneumonia six months before. Ma just seemed to give up once Pa was gone. Seemed like she just didn’t know how to keep on going without him. Of course, they had been part of each other’s life for over seventy years.
After Pa and Ma had passed, I felt kind of different for a while. I was really sad and felt disconnected. It seemed like part of me was missing. They had been such a huge part of my life, and I had always been very close with them. They had always just been there, and the old farm felt like home as long as they remained. Suddenly it was Colt’s farm. I know their time had come, and they were tired, but that last good-bye was a tough one.
Newton was fifty-nine at the time of his death. He had never married and had remained on the farm with Ma and Pa and my bother Colton and his family. Newton had come home from WWI a broken man. His lungs were weakened from being gassed, and he had always had breathing troubles. He had never gotten over the trauma of Dalton’s or Jed’s deaths, either. That had always played heavy on his health. My brother Lincoln had passed on by this time, too. All the years he had worked in the mines had taken its toll on his health. He had died in 1964 at the age of seventy-seven.
My life felt incomplete without my parents and brothers. Their deaths reinforced the fact that we were all getting older. We were drawing nearer to the end of our own lives. When my seventieth birthday rolled around, I realized that I had become part of the older generation. It really affected me for some reason.
I wasn’t afraid of dying; that’s the easy part. I just wasn’t ready to stop living. Ma used to say that you have to get busy living, or get busy dying. I had a lot of stuff to do before I was ready to kick the bucket, so I had to keep busy living. I can’t recall at this very moment what I still had on my bucket list back then, but I recollect thinking that I sure needed more time on the green side to get some things done.
Anyway, Logan and Jackie had a huge birthday party for me. They thought that it might cheer me up some. I had never had a party before. I had always been the one putting them on for everyone else. I had always enjoyed doing all the fussing and planning. It had always been fun if it was meant to be a surprise for someone. I got a real charge out of that. Lord, how I loved surprising others. The truth is I just never took to being the centre of attention. I never liked to have people fuss over me.
The party turned out to be a swell time. I never caught on to all the scheming that was done. I knew Charity was dropping in for a visit as she had told me she would. I figured that Jake and James and Jackie would slide in for a visit since they all lived close by, but the rest caught me by surprise. Logan and the girls outdid themselves.
When everyone started to arrive, I was quite overwhelmed. I never even had a minute to gussy up a little. I was somewhat embarrassed with all the W.I. (Women’s Institute) ladies and church women that were invited. I was always the type that liked to clean-up a little before company arrived. To be caught short like that made me feel uncomfortable.
Murray and Mary Beth managed to make their way up from Toronto. They had to travel the farthest, other than John, and he never came this way during the winter months. Most of my family were able to attend, except for a few of the grandchildren. Of course, we had thirty-eight altogether and it seems they’re scattered to the wind. Sure was nice to see all the little ones that were able to make it.
Anyways, winter parties are tricky because you just can’t depend on the weather being good to travel in. I was right tickled to see the crowd that showed up. I suppose there were over a hundred well-wishers who dropped by. I was plum shaken up to be honest. It was an afternoon social, and then our family stayed on for a real nice supper that the girls had all kicked in on. We had lots of good eats, as Pa used to say.
After supper, Logan put on a slide show. Projectors and home movies were quite a rage at that time. The youngsters got a hoot out of that. We had lots of good laughs for sure, and lots of good wine, too, as I recall. It turned out to be a weekend affair. The party was Saturday, and some of the crew stayed over until the next day. On Sunday, we skipped church and all joined up over at the old homestead. Colt and his family hosted a bonfire and skating party on the lake in my honour. It sure brought back a lot of my childhood memories. It was just like old times.
Logan and I hadn’t skated in years, but we gave it a good go anyhow. We managed to get around the rink a couple of times before our ankles got the best of us. We were like two school kids or just crazy old farts. I’m not sure which.
It got me to thinking back on all the hours us children had spent there as youngsters. It didn’t seem that long ago. It was hard to believe so much had changed. I guess that’s what time does; it just keeps moving forward, and you have to go with it or get left behind. We would celebrate our thirty-eighth wedding anniversary the next month, and I remember thinking that our love was just as true as it had been all those years ago. It was good to know something had stayed the same.
I don’t recall too much about getting presents. We weren’t very much for that sort of thing. When I was growing up, a special cake was the usual fanfare for a birthday. No one could afford gifts much. We were content with a dry roof overhead, clean clothes to wear, and three filling meals to eat each day. Some of the children I knew didn’t have that.
In today’s world, some folks seem to want more. Logan and I had come through some pretty rough spots during our time, so we were content to have the company of good friends and family to celebrate with on these special occasions. The gift of time and love, now what more could an old lady ask for? All I could say was – three score and ten, what then? Well, I had no idea what the future had in store for me, so I figured I’d just hold on for the ride.”