Ewa Doktór
JOURNAL
Senior Discount
I was purchasing a ticket to the Archaeological Museum of Kraków.
“Senior discount?” asked the man behind the ticket counter.
“No!” I was wearing sunglasses and an angora beret. Perhaps I looked like a shrunken grandmother. The man had no questions for my friend, and we entered the museum.
“An archaeological museum,” I thought to myself, depressed. “This is where I belong.” Then my gloom and doom made me smile. But it’s inevitable, sooner or later: retirement.
I FULLY REALIZED the passage of time at a recent class reunion. I hadn’t seen many of my classmates in forty years. Some I still recognized, others not. It felt strange to think of them as adult women and men—they will always be girls and boys to me.
“When did we become so old?” I complained to the man who used to sit next to me. “We are ancient.”
“We are eternal,” he replied. “Nothing will kill us.”
I VISITED MY godparents during the same trip.
“It’s so wonderful to discover new things at this age,” my godmother enthused. “I’ve learned sudoku, and last weekend we attended a folk song fair.”
A folk song fair? Chills of terror ran down my spine. But you never know what will strike your fancy in retirement.
MANY OF MY FRIENDS have already retired, and none of them miss work. One of them was worried about their financial survival, but was pleasantly surprised at all the discounts that suddenly became available. Senior discounts.
My former mother-in-law missed work. She had run a business, and retirement felt painfully boring.
“How will I kill time today?” she would ask. Sometimes she solved the problem by riding a tram aimlessly around the city. Observing other passengers and looking out the window can be entertaining. Perhaps I should give it a try. I might well find new inspiration for my work.
AS A WRITER, it will probably be easier for me to adapt to retirement. After all, I already have a great deal of downtime, a narrow social circle, and a quiet life.
Fortunately, I’m still relatively healthy. One of my childhood friends was just prescribed a hearing aid and finds it disheartening. Another has become so forgetful after a stroke that she is considering early retirement—but the thought terrifies her.
“If I retire, I will have to settle for the identity of a pensioner,” she says. I understand her concerns, but wouldn’t that be better than the identity of a nervous wreck?
WITH AGE, I HAVE FOUND myself keeping more distance with people. Earlier, I could be friends with almost anyone. Different worldviews were not an obstacle—now they are. Perhaps we become more set in our ways and less tolerant when we become older. The opposite would seem more logical, though.
Sometimes I’m grateful for my age. This world is a madhouse full of worst-case scenarios. Diseases resistant to antibiotics. Terrorism. Nuclear war. Climate change.
I may be able to get out of here before everything falls down, but my child and his possible children will remain. Perhaps I should give folk song fairs a chance.
© Anna-Leena Harkonen 2021