The lessons one learns as a toddler are lessons one never forgets as one ages.
I was taught from my high chair to respect my elders, rise when someone elderly enters the room, call them Mr. or Mrs and never by their first name, allow them to go ahead in a lineup and offer to help carry their groceries or cross the street.
All of these kindnesses to the elderly are simply good manners and I still, for the most part, adhere to those rules today. For instance, it was years before I gave in to my elderly friend’s wishes to call her by her first name and not by Mrs. So-and-So. I gave in but for the longest time I felt like I was breaking a commandment.
I still hold doors, rein in my impatience when several old friends block the grocery store aisle to have a visit, and absolutely do not blow the horn to get them to move their walkers more quickly through the intersection.
In the back of my mind I have thought: “Someday I will be elderly too and I would want someone to hold the door, help carry my groceries and listen to my stories.”
And then it hit me: I am already one of the elderly. I have been elderly for a few years, since that very first seniors’ discount at the restaurant, and the deposit of my first Old Age Security cheque. But I’m not “old” elderly in my thinking, being mostly fully mobile and close to being almost of sound mind.
For some reason I expected the OAS payment to provide me with a wad of cash every month, a payment beyond my greatest expectation. I must have misunderstood my parents who were quite content with the amounts of their pension cheques, noting occasionally that they had more money in their retirement years than through all their years of employment.
But with 75 cents here and another 50 cents there, my pension grew and grew until just recently it went to $626.49 a month from $618.45 — an increase of $8.04 — enough to pay for a piece of pie and ice cream and maybe a soft drink of some kind. Imagine the largess being sent to all the seniors eligible for this raise.
However, while I’m slightly grateful for this 1.3 per cent increase, I would also like to receive that $500 payout that seniors born on or before June 30, 1947 will be given later this month. Yes, that’s $500. For elderly seniors. I am not an elderly senior and the only laugh I can come up with is that it is a taxable $500. Still, where is the equity in treatment of Canada’s seniors?
And to add insult to injury, in July 2022, seniors 75 years and over will receive a permanent increase of 10 per cent.
My many elderly friends do not even try to hide their glee over this month’s windfall. They offer snide condolences before breaking into gales of laughter at my expense. They don’t even offer to buy me a soft drink from their bonus. Good manners surely would have taught them not to gloat and be prideful, or at least offer some measure of sympathy.
Government officials say older seniors face increased costs and that is why they are getting $500. Thanks to Deb Schulte, Minister of Seniors, for sharing the burden being faced by my elderly friends.
Did you know that Ms. Schulte, if she serves six years as a Member of Parliament, will be eligible for a retirement allowance of about $32,000 per year when she turns 65? And it goes up based on years of service beyond six years.
Hopefully she is earning every cent of her potential pension by having to listen to young seniors who are disgruntled at being discriminated against because they are not older. But thanks for my $8.04.
Joyce Walter can be reached at ronjoy@sasktel.net
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect the position of this publication.
