FALLING APART WITH A SMILE
Kathleen Wynne
Something about the stillness of the first few days of a new year brings on self-reflection, for better or worse.
A couple of days ago, as I pushed off from the end of the lovely community pool in my quest to complete soothing laps that would magically help me stave off the ravages of age and heal my ruptured Achilles tendon all at the same time, I felt the slight tickle of the tag of my new black Speedo on my arm. I had put my bathing suit on inside out. I had walked across the changeroom, out the door and across the pool deck.
It’s pretty obvious when someone has put their bathing suit on inside out. And this suit is all black so the little tag flapping at my side would have been very visible. Of course, no one said anything. I don’t know anyone at this pool; it’s not in the community I live in and besides we’re Canadians so not interfering is kind of what we do in our politeness.
I’m 70 years old now. My younger self would have been mortified. I would have jumped out of the pool, headed quickly for the changeroom, reversed the suit and come back in to swim. But of course, at 30, it all would have mattered so much more, or so I would have thought. So, while I was mortified at first, I quickly moved to amused and found myself chuckling down the lane in my quest for fitness in my old age. I channeled my dad who would have thought it was hilarious that I would think anyone would even notice. Thank God for a sense of humour in my DNA.
Turns out I needed that sense of the absurd for the whole morning. I had decided to allow myself the luxury of a tea at a coffee shop while I completed some reading that I needed for an upcoming work gig. As I climbed onto the stool at the Starbucks, the lid popped open on the steaming green tea which promptly soaked table and the cover of the book. A handful of napkins later, my dignity shakily restored, I was actually able to regain the moment of calm. Again, probably no one noticed or at least no one was judging me other than a fleeting boy, I hope I never get that fumbly thought on the part of the young people in the store.
As my younger sister said to me when I recounted the ridiculous morning I had had: ‘No one cares, as I was telling my trackpant-clad husband—we are invisible now and we can do whatever the hell we want because no one even sees us!’
She’s correct. And it’s an important reminder for those of us who have spent our lives trying to get it right. Wear the right clothes, say the right thing, make the right decisions—be strong, make an impression, make a difference. Leaving all that behind because of old age, deteriorating appearance, loss of position in the world is freeing and fraught with emotion at the same time.
After all, I was a swim instructor. I was a lifeguard. I was thin throughout my life and if not beautiful, I was always presentable. I was co-ordinated. I was the one who would catch a cup about to spill. I was agile and athletic.
Now I am 70. I have an autoimmune condition that means I have been on steroids for over a year. I have gained weight so that most of my clothes are tight or do not fit at all. My hair has thinned. I am constantly weary. I have partially ruptured my Achilles tendon because of the steroids and while it is much stronger, I am still visibly limping and where I never, ever thought twice about walking or running to my destination, now I think about how far I can walk and plan my routes.
I was in elected office for 22 years. I became Premier and enjoyed/endured the notoriety. I loved the responsibility of that role and the privilege of thinking about the important issues confronting our society from the vantage point of someone who could actually make change.
And now my bathing suit is inside out and I am tipping hot tea on my book.
I have a choice that I suppose many of us confront at some point in our lives. I can withdraw because I deem myself not fit for public company or I can persevere knowing that this is part of the human condition—that even in our privileged, youth-obsessed Western society, we do fall apart in small and significant ways.
I choose the latter. Withdrawal robs the town square of the continuum of age—it robs younger people of the glimpse into their future and of the opportunity to develop empathy. I remember watching my grandmother search her bag for her keys or her change purse and wondering when that would be me. Now I know. That’s who I am now. I’m that person who needs a bit longer in the check-out line.
The world is a dark place at the moment. The war between Israel and Hamas is destructive beyond all reason. Ukraine struggles to keep the deadly conflict with Russia in the forefront of our hearts and our governments’ agendas. Weird weather should shake us all into urgent action to reduce carbon emissions.
We need all hands on deck. The young, the old, the able, the differently able. Withdrawal is not an option.
So, when you see the wacky old man or woman, inside out, right side down, dropping keys, spilling tea—just smile.
. . .
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Kathleen Wynne - Kathleen Wynne was first elected to the Ontario legislature in 2003 as the MPP for Don Valley West. She was Ontario’s 25th Premier and leader of the Ontario Liberal Party from January 2013 to June 2018. Kathleen has dedicated her professional life to building a better province for the people of Ontario. She is guided by the values and principles that knit the province of Ontario together: fairness, diversity, collaboration and creativity.
The views and opinions expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Air Quotes Media. Read more opinion contributions via QUOTES from Air Quotes Media.