There are people in life who see age as nothing but a number. And then there are those who have their own perspective on it. If you’re lucky enough, you will meet one of those. This is a story about a unique lady next door. A lady who has their eye on you. You, with all your stereotypes about life and the elderly!
Image Pexels, Nadine Ginzel
When I first met Rosie (she preferred people to call her by her first name) she was standing by the gate between her little chalet and mine. Even though my life was busy, I thought I should at least say hello. Rosie was about 86 and like many people, at the time I thought that because she was “old,” she must be lonely and fragile, and in need of a cup of tea soon.
Anyway, as feeble, small and cute as she looked at first glance, her first words surprised me. She spoke with such a strong local accent that it gave her a kind of life power you wouldn’t have expected. Her vowels were as strong as her quick wit (and her swearing), and so she began to tell me stories about the local raaaaabits that would make their way through all of our gardens.
Sense of humour
I often saw Rosie sitting on the sofa behind her window, and soon we began to mime small conversations through her window as I walked past. “All good today?” I would ask with my hands, sometimes jumping or falling as part of the conversation.
Rosie had a wicked sense of humour and was good with language. She could also be quite cheeky, and would say words I cannot repeat here. At times, we would only have to look eachother, to know what we meant, before we would get the giggles.
Just for you
Anyway, it was only later on I found out the kind or person Rosie really was. Like, when she came around the corner carrying a large garden table above her head. “I have found something for you,” she shouted, with that small yet powerful voice. I hadn’t mentioned anything to her, but only that morning I had been thinking I should get a table for the garden.
It was only later I learned that somehow Rosie always knew what people needed in life. And that somehow she always had that something lying around. Just for you.
All in all, what I am trying to say is, this was a lady who was not at all what you sterotypically expected from an ageing person. Or from a woman, for that matter. This was a unique person. And as the days went by and my life got busier, I didn’t see her all that much. But I did start to notice things.
Need some help with that?
As the seasons changed, sometimes I’d look out the window and there was Rosie repairing her roof. Or tiling her own terrace. Sometimes you would hear a noise like a small lost plane. But it would be Rosie and her old lawn mower. There was no frail ageing lady here and she certainly didn’t need any help.
Rosie even knew how to drain her chalet’s water system for the winter. Most people hired a handyman for that. Not Rosie. She would use her homemade compression pump. I’ve seen her do it. Since the passing of her husband, she had learned to survive on her own. And then some.
Rosie also had more tools in her garden shed than the technical team of the entire bungalow park combined. There was even something magical about her shed. Whatever she, or anyone else, needed in their life, Rosie would go through its rickety door and come out with just the thing. Just like with the garden table that she miraculously made appear before me.
And anyone who still mistook her for the stereotypical ageing lady, would soon be helped out of that delusion. I used to see it happening from the kitchen window: those caring people coming to the rescue. There’s another one who’s just had the Rosie treatment, I used to say to myself.
Because instead of helping Rosie with something, they would be walking out of the door with their arms full with a bowl of her home-made food or something. And you could hear Rosie screaming: “I can hardly eat all this by myself, can I?”, and “hurry yourself up out of the rain!” as they were making their way through the garden. This ”old lady” was there for us: not the other way around.
“There’s another one who’s just had the Rosie treatment, I used to say to myself. Rosie was there for us, not the other way around.”
Practical ideas for life
In much the same way Rosie was always there to help me too. First there were the delicious slices of cake that she would often pass to me over the fence after she had had a friend’s visit. She had an uncanny way of knowing exactly when you felt like having something sweet, but didn’t have anything in the house.
Rosie also often helped me with my gardening and do-it-yourself challenges. With years of experience of doing things herself, she was always full of practical ideas. It would always start with a loud tapping on the window and a lot of mime. While I would be clumsily trying to build a fence or a shaded area or something, she would be pointing at things and mouthing words.
Soon after, this would be followed by the shuffle from around the corner of her chalet. The short pause at the gate, some more pointing, followed by “if you were smart, you would do this…”. And before I knew it, she would be standing in my garden, expertely hammering things. And since we were equally stubborn, this scene always had a bit of a slapstick quality to it.
Nothing could faze her
One day I came home from my usual dog walk to find another chalet next to mine. It was a strange sensation. Just in the time it took me to complete our walk, it had been placed. Clonk. It marked the beginning of a new era for the park, which would slowly be filled with chalets that appeared from nowhere in the tiniest of places.
And as I stood there, neighbours were starting to join behind me. When one of them nudged me by the elbow and asked angrily whether the park management had had at least the decency to inform me, it confirmed the mood I had sensed. And just as the comments were getting stronger, Rosie arrived, as did the park’s manager.
It was one of the first moments I discovered that nothing could faze Rosie. And, that this was a lady who was not only independent and strong in her life, but that she would also have your back. And as she started scolding the manager, (who looked at her with a twinkle), she started pleading my case. Saying things like how were we expected to reach our chalets from the north side with this thing in the way. If there had been a picket line, she would have been there all day.
There were also days when Rosie had problems with her legs. But it didn’t stop her from tending her lush garden and you would see her shuffling along in a chair. It also didn’t hamper her sense of humour, and she would ask me to check on her later, you know, in case she had ended up behind a bush somewhere.
Old and lonely in life?
There was also the matter of Rosie’s circle of friends. I may have been thirty years younger than her; her social life was more active than mine.
Sometimes, as I was working in my small office, I would hear the voices of Rosie and her friends floating in. Her social circle, who were of all ages, would have joined her on such occasions, all sat on the round bench in the bay window. Behind the fogged-up windows there were loud joyful shouts and enormous bursts of great laughter. I’m sure I saw her caravan moving sometimes!
As I came to learn over time, these women, and many other people who knew Rosie, would pop round daily. And they would go shopping together, and they would go out for dinner together.
In the summer, children from all over came to Rosie. Rosie had lived in her chalet for over thirty years, and people just knew her. She would disappear into that magical shed and come out with the most delicious ice creams. I’m sure I’ve seen some of the technical staff queuing on the hot days.
To keep you on your toes with your stereotypes about the elderly, Rosie did knit. In fact, Rosie made the most beautiful cardigans, and some people were given them for free, others were asked to pay a hefty price. That always made me laugh. Why not, I would think, she had spent hours and hours making them: they were worth it. They were beautiful and warm, and she certainly wasn’t silly!
“Behind the fogged-up windows of her caravan there were always loud joyful shouts and enormous bursts of great laughter.”
A little ageing lady…
At night, when I used to get back from my last dog walk, Rosie would still be sitting there in her comfy chair behind the steamed up window. Unlike other people in the park, Rosie preferred to leave her curtains open, and you could spot her chalet from afar, her windows lit brightly as if rebelling against the surrounding darkness, always emanating warmth.
Anyway, like magic, this would be the only time you would be able to see that ‘ageing lady’ you may have always imagined. Just for a moment, she would be there. Sitting in her favourite chair, sleeping, her knitting resting on her lap, dozing off a little. Before she would do it all again the day after.
About the author
Mary Contrary just knows. Or maybe she has no idea. Who knows? In any case, she likes to think about life and see it from different perspectives. Being a little contrary has never hurt anyone, she says. Mary lives in a beautiful country, with her dog and lovely acquaintances around her, and together they enjoy watching the bat show at dusk with a glass of sherry.
Image courtesy of Pexels, Beyzaa Yurtkuran
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