Remember seniors at Thanksgiving

<p>John Galsworthy said, “If you do not think about the future, then you cannot have one.” So it might be a good idea to think about becoming a senior in order to achieve satisfying senior years.</p><!-- Nothing to do. The paragraph has already been output --><p>Of course when we are children, the idea of becoming a senior citizen is an abstraction, and as remote as the idea that government will abolish taxation. As children we are boundless in our energy and enthusiasm, we are ageless and invincible. Any plans we make for the future probably don’t include how to deal with being a senior citizen. </p><p>Even as young adults, how many of us spend any time at all thinking about our future, God willing, as senior citizens?</p><p>Back in 1990, as a middle-aged adult, I took a class at Sonoma State University called Gerontology — the study of aging. My participation in the class caused me to become more aware of and to appreciate those who were seniors at the time, and to put into sharper focus the realization that I would one day become a senior in the seeming blink-of-an-eye. </p><p>Also because of that class, I wrote a letter to the Argus-Courier editor, thanking the seniors of 1990 for all they had done for us. I resubmitted the letter in 1994.</p><p>This year, because of a citizen comment questioning the deservedness of seniors to receive $250 in lieu of a cost-of-living allowance for 2010, I decided to submit a revised column to the Argus editor, enumerating the contributions of Petalumans and all Americans who have made the wondrous journey to senior citizenship. So here goes:</p><p>Who are these folks whose numbers include those living on Social Security and senior discounts? Who are the people who belong to the most rapidly expanding, yet possibly least acknowledged and appreciated segment of American society? </p><p>They are the men and women who worked side by side in America’s shipyards and factories during World War II, so that our fighting forces overseas could be supplied and sustained until victory was achieved.</p><p>They are Frank W. Buckles, the last World War I American survivor, the veterans who fought for our freedom during World War II and the Korean conflict, and most Vietnam vets.</p><p>They are the nurses who cared for those wounded, disabled and disfigured during those tragic confrontations, and all the women who lost husbands, brothers and other loved ones.</p><p>They are the school teachers who helped us learn the tools that enabled us to figuratively stand on our own two feet and become productive members of society.</p><p>They are the police officers and firefighters we used to read about, admire and want to grow up to be.</p><p>They are the actors, actresses and other filmmakers who gave us temporary respite from the everyday hardships of life.</p><p>They are the artists and scientists who expanded our imaginations and filled us with wonder and awe.</p><p>They are the craftsmen who built our churches and the legislators who made our laws.</p><p>They are someone’s aunts, uncles, parents, and grandparents; those who nourished us, protected and defended us, and prepared us for adulthood. They are the ones who, often forgotten, sit out their lives in nursing homes.</p><p>Now that I am a senior citizen heading for year 70, they are the folks I am proud and pleased to associate with at the Petaluma Senior Center, and my retired firefighter and other friends at the Friday breakfast club.</p><p>Remember seniors this Thanksgiving. They have given of themselves to you; it is your turn to give something back. Go see them wherever they are. When you get there, tell them how much they mean to you. And if you find yourself at a loss for words, just say thanks.</p><p><i>(Robert Breen is a Petaluma resident and author of the novel, “Welcome to Purgatory.”)</i></p>