Dear LPG

When I was still working, I regarded the older people I knew as lucky because, like so many young people of that age, most of my time was taken up with getting to and from my job and making sure I was fed and presentable enough to look the part every weekday.  

When I was young, free, single and in my twenties, I remember having some exciting preconceptions about older people.  I knew a few and had a close relationship with my grandmother, but I always thought of her as a lady with loads of time on her hands.  In a way, I could not wait to have all the free time I was so sure she had at her disposal.

I am now a pensioner and realise I have less free time.  Looking around at my friends and contemporaries, I know that some left work with a definite plan while others wondered what they would do with all that spare time.  The irony of that train of thought is that when you think you have a lot to spare, free time seems to take very little time to absorb. 

I soon found myself babysitting grandchildren and getting involved in helping some of the people in my life who are a little older than me and who are a little less able to help themselves—learning about the lives of people who are a bit older than you has its advantages when you are feeling quite old yourself.  There is something extraordinary about being able to help people.  

When I first left work, I somehow felt old. Phoning ex-work colleagues and younger colleagues who habitually tell you they must go because they are so busy makes you feel old. Listening to older people's stories reminds you that you are not the only person with such insecurities. There is something special about feeling needed.  

I now have a routine that leaves little time for very much ‘me’ in my life; I visit an old lady for a chat on Mondays and spend the afternoon helping another with her shopping. On Tuesdays, I help another person with their paperwork. I spend two days a week with the grandchildren and visit a day centre every Friday, and I can’t even remember how I got so busy. 

I have found the perfect balance of things to occupy my time with, but now and then, my system gets out of balance.

I recently started to visit one of those people who was a friend of the family when I was a young child.  He now lives alone and is not as mobile as he once was, so I have also found a weekly time slot to check on him.  I was the first to call if I could help, but he needed a plumber not so long ago.  I found him one and arranged to be there during the visit so that he was not alone.  It put all the other timings out, but I got around that.  The next day he phoned to tell me that he had a bit of a problem with his mobile and I visited to fix that, the following day it was a bit of furniture that needed moving, and I went round to help with that, but we only managed to get it half shifted between us.  There was yet another call within 2 hours after I had left. 

I was on the phone with someone else then, so I ignored it. I suppose there was a hint of ‘what now!’ going on in my head, so I promised to call him back a bit later. But making my dinner and that day’s other commitments got in the way, and I did not remember him until it was too late to call anyone without worrying them.

I am up at 6 o’clock every morning, and, as you can imagine, my mind was doing overtime that morning, but I felt it wrong to call until at least 9:30 a.m. I had visions of him stuck under the furniture item, having tried to move it himself, and the thought of him being there all night was making it worse.

I phoned back in the end, and he wanted to tell me he had finished the job successfully. But I learned how important it is to remind people that ‘you don’t have the time to help’ now and then because if we are not careful, we can all let people become too dependent on us.   

My actions on that day also left me with another thought: I now don’t feel as sad as I once did when I ask, and someone is too busy for me.

KH, New Cross