Old folks have the best stories to tell

It's so easy for all of us, me included, to look at old people and not see past the thinning grey hair, the saggy, baggy, wrinkled skin to the person inside.

I live in an old-folks home, of sorts. Not a place with facilities or care or meals, merely an apartment building for people over 55. One of our residents will be celebrating her 100th birthday this Friday, and while many people rely upon aides to come in during the week to help with bathing, laundry, cleaning, whatever is needed, an equal number are self-sufficient, still have cars and travel as they wish.

Up until a couple of weeks ago we had three married couples living here, then one of the men died. This was a couple who everyone here respected and admired, especially the wife, who tended her husband both at home and in his frequent hospital and/or nursing home visits, where she would stay with him night and day for the duration. The devotion was astounding to watch these past few years, but while I knew who they were and spoke to them a couple of times when I'd encounter them, I didn't really know them.

A couple of days after I learned that he'd died I was on another floor to meet with a couple of friends, who happened to be in the hallway speaking with the widow when I arrived, so I joined them. We learned that they were married for 67 years. I don't know what they did for the rest of their lives, but that day I also learned that they had been lighthouse keepers at one of Oregon's many lighthouses for 17 years, many years ago.

Lots of people here have interesting stories, though I only know a fraction of them. One used to train racehorses (trotting/pacing horses that pulled sulkys, not thoroughbreds that race with jockeys), again, many years ago in another life. One is an artist and poet and all around free-spirit who lived in Mexico much of her life and has only 'retired' in recent years due to a health issue. One went to school and became a car mechanic at an advanced age and at one time many years ago raced cars.

Looking at them -- us -- people see the sags and bags and droops and wrinkles, and never look for or think about the interesting lives behind them. I'm guilty, too, but my horizons are certainly opening up.