A modest Day of Older Persons
Edward drank tea and danced for his village elders
I was admiring the tree branches propping up the bus stop, when I saw a flyer inviting me to afternoon tea at the village social club in celebration of Elderly Person Day.
I had never heard of this Day before, but I knew from past experience that drinking tea at the social club was a euphemism for consuming beverages that contain 0% tea.
Then the gears began to turn. Fact: There were a lot of elderly persons in the village. Fact: Some of these elderly persons enjoyed drinking tea regardless of what fake holiday it was. Fact: A tea party at the village social club in honor of the elderly would probably be the wildest rave in Novgorod’s entire 1,166-year history.
Naturally, I was intrigued and marked my calendar.
(I would later learn that International Day of Older Persons is a United Nations-recognized Day and that the Day’s “theme” for 2024 was “Aging with Dignity: The Importance of Strengthening Care and Support Systems for Older Persons Around the World”.)
Edward Junior, Ekaterina, and I arrived at the social club five minutes before noon, just as the first cup of tea was being poured.
After the third round of tea the older persons began to reminisce about previous Older Persons Days.
“Do you remember when Viktor Andreevich’s wife used to play the guitar and sing for us?” one of the older persons asked our gathering.
“This year is more modest,” sighed a villager of advanced age as he took a swig of tea.
Nina Nikolaevna, who lives three houses down from the Edward Institute’s milk-extraction facilities, had the most vivid recollections of the times of yore.
“I had a wonderful sense of smell—people would even travel from neighboring villages just to knock on my door and ask, ‘Nina Nikolaevna, please, smell this pot of soup—has it spoiled?’ and I would take a whiff and reply ‘yes!’ or ‘no!’”.
Around this time, your correspondent and Edward Junior—who will fulfill his father’s unfulfilled dream of joining the Igor Moiseyev Ballet—began to dance.
But the revelry came to an abrupt pause when Polina Sergeevna went white in the face and asked to be taken home.
“She has problems with her blood pressure,” her husband explained as he escorted her out the door.
Ten minutes (one tea) later Polina Sergeevna’s husband swung open the door of the social club.
“122 over 80!”
“Not so bad! Hurray!” the older persons exclaimed in near-unison as they hurriedly poured each other more tea.
“To acceptable blood pressure!” exclaimed Polina Sergeevna’s husband as he raised his tea glass.
Polina’s husband then called his wife on his 2010-era flip phone to make sure she was alright, but she didn’t answer.
“She’s probably just taking a nap,” he said.
Another round of tea was poured.
“To good sleep!” everyone shouted.
An hour later, your correspondent was tasked with escorting Nina Nikolaevna, who had had too much tea, back home.
As we approached her domicile, Nina Nikolaevna dug her heels into the dirt road.
“Wait, wait, wai—”, cried Nina Nikolaevna as she grabbed my arm. “I need to tell you something, Roma.”
“What is it?”
She turned to me, tears racing down her cheeks.
“I’m—I’m half Polish.” And then Nina Nikolaevna began to wail.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be alright,” I said as I led her by the arm to her doorstep.
“Roma, tomorrow can you bring me something to smell?” she asked me as she wiped away tears.
“I’ll try, Nina Nikolaevna.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
She cracked open her door and stumbled inside.
Great dancing! My knees would suffer greatly if I were to attempt such a thing.
Hey, those walls are.....are....painted...!! great post thanks