"Seniors Are Special People"

A few weeks before Christmas, my friend and co-worker Paulette asked me to go on a day trip to see the “Singing Christmas Tree” in Edmonton. I decided to say yes, even though I had never heard of this event.

I looked it up on the Internet to see what it was all about. Apparently, it’s an annual Christmas Concert that includes singing, dancing and orchestra. There are approximately 200 performers, including the singers who stand on scaffolding surrounding a giant Christmas tree. It’s a Charity Event with the proceeds going to Santas Anonymous, an organization that provides toys to underprivileged children. They have been spreading the Holiday Spirit for 55 years.

It sounded like a worthy cause as well as a wonderful way to spend an afternoon. I didn’t realize that this day would be a turning point in my progression from middle age to the senior years.

On the day of the concert, we met at the Heritage Center parking lot. The mini bus was already warming up for the 2.5 hour drive to Edmonton. I glanced at the bus and did a double take. There, on the side of the bus, in large glaring letters was “Seniors are Special People.” Great. I was not only a Senior, I was Special too! And I was going to sit on that bus.

It was one of those moments we never forget. Like the time someone first called me “Ma’am” ( I was in my early 20’s at a gas station). Or the time I found my first grey hair (I was 27). And then, more recently, the time I learned I needed reading glasses( when my vision had always been perfect.). And now, I was going on the “Seniors are Special” Bus. Oh Joy!

I took a deep breath and stepped onto the bus with Paulette. 18 pairs of female eyes were on us, since we were the last to board. We noticed that there weren’t any double seats left.

I bravely asked if someone would be willing to give up their seat so Paulette and I could sit together. No one volunteered. Apparently “Seniors are Stubborn People“. I found a spot in the back row in the corner and settled in.

The women introduced themselves, since I was a newbie. I greeted Stella, Hilda, Doris, Marlene, Agnes and many more. All solid traditional names. Not a Tiffany, Brandy or Zoe in sight. They were curious about me and didn’t waste any time. “Are you married dear? Do you have any children? Do you work?” It was all done with genuine interest so I didn’t feel too awkward. They decided I was ok and accepted me into their group. They passed around bags of homemade cookies. Sometimes “Seniors are Sweet People”

There weren’t any cell phones or text messages in sight but we managed to amuse ourselves. Soon, we began to sing songs , play word games and draw pictures on the steamed up windows of the bus (no doubt from all that hot air). Which only proved that “Seniors are Spontaneous People”

The only man on board was our driver Bob. He was the husband of one of the women and at age 78, I was more than mildly concerned about his driving competence. Bob was wearing one of those multi-coloured sweaters Bill Cosby used to wear in the 1980’s and probably thought he was a fashionista.. I looked down at my red sweater with the cats embroidered on it and wondered if others thought the same thing about me. I promised myself to purge the relics from my closet and donate everything to charity. “Seniors sometimes wear Silly Things”

The woman who sat next to me confided all the details of her accident in 2002 and how her life was changed forever. I offered my genuine sympathies and support. Some “Seniors are Sad People”

The concert was 2 hours long with a 20 minute intermission. I was impressed with all the local talent and was amazed at the dedication of the volunteers. Everyone in the audience enjoyed the performance and showed their appreciation with the thunderous clapping afterwards. This was an excellent way to officially start the holiday season. The traditional christmas carols resonated long after we left the auditorium. I planned to make attending the “Singing Christmas Tree” a new family tradition. (my family does not know this yet). Sometimes “Seniors are Sneaky People”.

I thought the concert was the highlight of the day, but the real excitement came on our trip home. There was a conflict of opinion on the best route to take. Everyone has their preferred way of getting out of the city and everyone thinks that their way is the best. I sat in my back seat in the corner and watched the scene unfold.

Women were arguing in the aisles, arms waving. One stood next to the driver and gave directions. Another shouted “No, that’s not the way! Turn around!” Another could be heard shouting, “Let the driver decide”. “Just let the driver decide how he wants to go home” These "Seniors are Serious People"

We went a few kilometres down the road and then made a U-turn. Lucky for us, the driver, age 78 and nearly deaf had learned to tune out female voices. He had been doing that very same thing for the past 50 years of his marriage and it never failed. He plugged along quietly and drove on the dark and snowy country roads , slow and steady and sure. This “Senior was Smart.”

The conversations lulled and everyone nodded off for the remainder of the trip. I guess all the excitement tired them out and so: “Seniors are Sleepy People too”.

And me? I’m slowly getting used to this new designation, but for now I’ll refer to myself as “Senior-Lite”