This year marks Chatelaine’s 95th anniversary. As part of our year-long celebration, we spoke with five other nonagenarians about their experiences of life at 95. All in all, they still feel young and are still fired up, just like us! Read on for their inspiring takes on aging.
“It’s a whole new vision of aging for me”
I HAD A career that I loved. I used to be a professor at the University of Toronto, and I really enjoyed teaching and mentoring students. But at the time that I turned 65, the university had a rule that you had to retire. I really did not want to, so a colleague made sure I had an office at the university, and I worked for another 20 years doing research and writing articles and books. When I was 85, I thought maybe I’d had enough. My life got a little narrower then. That’s when I decided to volunteer at a hospice because I had done some research on end-of-life care and I thought it really mattered. That filled a big need to feel useful and productive. I did that until the pandemic, and I’m thinking about going back soon.
Now, I don’t really have a typical day—although Sundays are reserved for spending time with my daughter and son-in-law. I belong to something called Senior College, which we started more than 10 years ago for retired faculty and librarians at the University of Toronto. We attend lectures and seminars and discuss books. So that keeps me busy on Wednesdays. Then on Thursdays, we have a small group in the condo building where I live that meets for drinks before dinner to talk about life. Fridays, I go to the chiropractor and visit with friends. I still go to the ballet and the opera and concerts and things like that.
In my building, we have an exercise class every week. I also have a Zoom yoga class once a week, and I exercise on my own one other time. I have a daily goal of 7,000 steps. I’ve been doing regular exercise since I turned 40. I’d read a lot about how it mattered to your enjoyment of life, so I decided I’d better do it. I love life, and I just wanted to make sure I was getting the most out of it.
When I was younger, I thought 80 was very old, and now I think it’s quite young. I just never thought that I would be around and enjoying life at 95, so it’s a whole new vision of aging for me. —Merrijoy Kelner, Toronto
“I want to be independent, always”
I LIVED WITH my husband until I was in my 80s, but now I live at a seniors’ home. Most days, I join in on activities at the home and talk to the other residents. For the rest of the day, I do some drawing. I also spend quite a bit of time playing my favourite game—Mahjong—on my tablet.
After my husband passed away, I lived with my son for a little while, but I wasn’t really happy. I want to be independent, always.
I am proud of myself for being able to raise five children. I think it must be the same for every parent on the planet—we want to work hard so we can feed our children and keep them warm. We were very, very poor, so all my life I had to work very hard doing the lowest-wage work. But now all my children and grandchildren are doing well; they visit me regularly, and I can go stay with them for a night or two during some festivals and holidays.
I don’t have much concern about feeling like I’m aging. The only thing I’m concerned about is becoming a burden on my family. I’m taken care of at the seniors’ home—and I can still live a happy, healthy, independent life.
I would tell younger women that the most important thing is to make sure you maintain your relationships. Family is the most valuable thing, so make sure you spend time with them. And remember that sometimes you will have a low time, and that is normal. When that happens, share with your friends or family; don’t keep it to yourself. —Hou Yuk Chu, Calgary
“My friends know my door is open and my coffee pot is on”
I NEVER THOUGHT I would reach 95 because most people don’t. My husband used to say that by the time you’re 90, you’ve lost all your friends. And I did lose some. But I still see people regularly. That’s my whole life: interacting with people. Most days, I play cribbage at the Beau-Head Senior Centre or at the Legion. On Sundays, I go to church. Wednesdays and Thursdays, I try to stay home for anything the day brings. My friends know that my door is open and my coffee pot is on. We spend a lot of time on my deck in the summertime, and in the winter, we sit in the living room and tell stories. You know how they go—we sit there and try to relate a story and then forget the name of the person and the place they live in because our memories are shot. We keep saying, “What was her name?” And then we kill ourselves laughing.
Even our cribbage tournaments are more about companionship than getting points. Yes, we love the game. Yes, we’re competitive. But it’s more about communication. At our age, we can say things to each other that we couldn’t say when we were young. And we always have a darn good afternoon with a lot of laughs.
I’m used to being independent and doing the best I can. I’m still driving. I have a special licence plate that says “Lorene9.” Everybody knows it’s me, so I have to drive carefully. But over the years, I don’t know how many strangers have stopped me and said, “Why is there a nine?” The plate was a gift from my late husband, and he wanted the number 10 on it because to him, I was perfect. But we had to settle for nine, because 10 wouldn’t fit. —Lorene Stepaniuk, Beausejour, Man.
“I still feel like I should be able to go out and dance”
MY THOUGHTS ON aging have changed a lot. I never did feel old—not really old. I don’t even feel old today. I did start to get some aches and pains when I was 91, and I had a stroke, which set me back.
I used to go out a lot. At one time, I was very, very healthy and very active. In our community, we used to have dances every Sunday for the seniors, and I used to go and dance the night away. We would have probably 120, 130 people and lots of music. They used to have a Mother’s Day breakfast in the community centre and suppers too. I loved going to them things. I still feel like I should be able to go out and dance. I think that’s the most challenging thing about being 95—trying to get around. Summer is better than winter.I don’t get out very much in the winter. In the summer, I go out and sit on the veranda—me and Twitter, my cat—and get a suntan.
Nowadays, my favourite things to do are puzzles and reading. I go shopping when I get the chance, but when I do, there’s got to be three people with me: one to push me, one to drive and one to help pick up the groceries. The best thing about being 95 is somebody looks after you. I have a big family—six boys and five girls, all still liv- ing, and I can say they’ve got good health and good lives. They visit me, they bring suppers in. I’m proud of my family and the way they turned out. They’ve got no wings or halos, but they’re good—and they’re good to me. —Margaret “Mammy” AuCoin, South Branch-Coal Brook, Nfld.
“I don’t think of myself as an old lady”
I’M STILL INDEPENDENT. And I’m not ready for the old-age home—although we did look at some recently. But I thought that everyone there was too old; I would feel cooped up, and I like my freedom. I keep myself very busy. I do my own cooking, I clean, I take care of my garden, I mow my lawn. My family says, “Don’t cut the grass!” But I’m very stubborn that way.
In the summertime, I take walks around the neighbourhood. It’s hard now because my neighbourhood has changed. I’ve been in my home for 68 years. We bought it brand new, and I’m still there. Everyone else who lived on the street in those early days has moved. Now, there are young people with children moving in, and they have nothing in common with me. I have nothing to talk about with them because my kids are big already. And all my friends are gone. That’s the sad part of it. When we were young, my friends and I had a great time going to different parties. That’s all gone now. With my husband gone as well, it’s very lonely for me. My kids and grandkids are very good. They try to keep in touch, but at night, you’re on your own. You do feel like you don’t belong to anybody anymore.
I think the best part of being 95 is having my family come for dinner. We have good chats and they tell me all about their lives. I live through their lives.
Life is very different from when I was young. When we first came to Toronto, I didn’t have a refrigerator. I had one of these guys come around with ice. Now I have conveniences. My younger self would be shocked! But I couldn’t live in this world if I didn’t have my family. I don’t have a computer. I don’t have a cellphone. I don’t know what it’s all about. I don’t drive anymore, so my daughter helps me get groceries, and my grandchildren help me. If I didn’t have family, I would be lost.
Still, I don’t think of myself as an old lady. I have my own home, I do my own things. I’m still kicking. —Theresa Hlavach, Toronto