Village Squire, 1973-04, Page 21to Niagara Falls. She'd been so proud. Who would
have imagined that she would be on a honeymoon
that would last a whole week and that she'd see both
the city and the Falls. Most men couldn't afford such
a trip. But John could.
As she stood on the hill she could see the town
stretched out below her.
Things had changed since then of course. The
"crash" had come and all the wonderful farmland that
John's parents had left him had become worthless.
They lost it because they couldn't afford to pay the
taxes. All they had left was one small farm. John
had had to work hard because he couldn't afford to
pay help. She'd cried when she saw haw the work
aged him. But even with his hard work they were
poor --poorer than either of them had ever known they
could be.
And there was Jimmy. When he was born the
doctor had warned that she would never be able to
have another child. For this they had loved him even
more. He was five the winter the scarlet fever epid-
emic hit. She remembered feeling sorry for the doc-
tor that year. He wcrked twenty hours a day for weeks;
for people who couldn't even afford to pay.
He'd stayed with Jimmy for two days trying his best
but to no good. When it was over she had asked
him for a bill, but he'd just shrugged it off. "Pay
me a little when you can" he'd said. You'll need
the money right now yourself."
They'd lost their most precious possession but John
refused to let her give up. He was always like that.
Losing Jimmy, all their money, the wcrst the thirties
could do to him couldn't get him down.
She remembered that sunny Sunday when they'd
come home from church to hear that Hitler had inva-
ded Poland and England had declared war. They had
known it was only a matter of time before Canada
would be in too.
"Now I'm glad that Jimmy didn't make it" he said.
"I don't think I could bear to send him off to get
killed now."
It had struck her as odd at the time, even hurt a
Little, that he should say such a thing. But later, as
she saw the other mothers and watched their faces as
they got "the telegram" she understood.
They had left the farm after the war. John had
said it was time for them to give the land to younger
men who needed it more. There would be men
coming home from Europe who had fought to keep
them free and deserved land of their own now that
the war was over.
Their house in town was small, but comfortable
enough for just the two of them. He had worked as
night watchman in the factory until he had retired
just two years ago.
It wasn't that he wanted to retire. He wasnYt one
of these men that looked forward to retirement all
their lives. He had been raised on work and it
was all he knew. But the time came for everyone,
and he faced it cheerfully, as he did everything else.
He didn't stop working. He just shifted his aim.
Soon he had the most beautiful little house on the
street. His roses took prizes in the annual flower
show. And he was a friend to every child and their
pet kittens and puppies.
But now....
The street was broad and tree -lined. The citizens
were proud of their town. They liked to call this
the most beautiful street in the world. It must have
come close.
He'd been a strong husband. He'd made the dec-
isions and she was glad to have it that way. But now
she would have to make her own decisions. The
thought was terrifying. What would she do? She
wasn't old. She would probably live at least ten
more years. Could she bear it? Those happy times
they had always shared, Christmas, her birthday,
could she find happiness in them by herself?
It wasn't that she had to worry about money. He
had worked hard to make sure she wouldn't have
that worry. And their was old age security from the
government.
"Security". That was a laugh. As if money was
the kind of security one really needed at this age.
But what now? How would she spend the years
she had left?
Of one thing she was certain. She wouldn't spend
her life like Mrs. Cambell. Poor woman, widowed
at forty, all her children grown up and living all
over the country. Nearly seventy now but she re-
fused to admit it. Always talked about all the men
she used to date and how she could have had any
man in the county before she married or even after
her husband died.
Would the government's "security" help her? No,
the future had to be faced. There was no running
away.
How did other fight it? She remembered the
senior citizens meeting she had once gone to. There
was something morbid about the atmosphere, like a
gathering f7r a mass funeral. It was as if everyone
were just sitting around waiting to die. Everyone
was a life member and memberships were never
long.
No, it was wrong to condem the club. It did good.
Many of the members really enjoyed the meetings
and the euchre and bingo games. But not for her. It
would be like being stored in mothballs in a closet 9
until she was ready to die.
A home for the aged? Ten years ago they used to
call them old people's homes but now they fixed them
up with nice fancy names like Twilight Lodge. As if
the euphemistic names hid the fact that it was a one
way street.
No, not that either. Not that they were bad. They
did their best and the new ones especially were very
pleasant. But they weren't the answer for her.
To be surrounded by an artificial world of the old
would be too much of a surrender.
Granted, all these helped some people. But it
wasn't her kind of life. To each his own.
But what did it leave? Sitting at home, cooking
food for herself and watching television? She had
always liked cocking and sewing for John, but just
herself? The pleasure of giving would be gone.
Of course she could get married again like old Mr.
Hubble had done a few years ago. He didn't want to
be lonely so he married an eighty-year-old woman.
She wasn't that lonely.
But the prospect of spending life alone in an empty
house wasn't appealing. It was the best of the alter-
natives though.
Her legs were beginning to tire. Maybe she should
have accepted a ride. Maybe the years were catching
up.
She turned to cross the park, a wide virdent stretch
of field. It was one of the objects of civic pride. A
little creek meandered along one side and under the
tall maples clusters of picnic tables and benches were
'arranged for the pleasure of the townspeople and tour -
Ms. There was a baseball diamond for the children
at the north end and to the left, a football field.
Down by the river was a statue of the town's founder.
The sound of children' voices made her turn as
she walked. Over on the baseball field a group of
children were playing. Strange, she thought. Most
of the children were in school now. Who could these
be? Then she recognized them. They were from the
orphanage over on the south side of town. She didn't
see them often. They had no playground of their own
so sometimes they were brought over here to play.
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