A Fukuokan's Notes from Sapporo

Shortly after we settled in, a lady knocked on our door. Identifying herself as a "community welfare volunteer," she explained that she visits old people who have recently moved to the neighborhood.

"I check on seniors who might need assistance, and since you BOTH seem to be SENIORS, I wanted to say hello and see if you’re doing okay," she said, with a very polite and professional demeanor. For me, this was the first time I had ever been addressed as "old" right to my face. I mean, I know I am technically a "senior," but a part of me hadn't truly accepted that label yet. You can feel "young at heart" forever—until you are forced to face a bitter reality.

Anyway, after recovering from that initial shock, I took a look at the brochure she left, and felt even more discouraged. It seemed to cry out to me:

* You can still work! (And you should!)

* Do volunteer (unpaid) work for the community!

* Join senior clubs, sports classes, or preventative health activities!

It felt as if what I do these days—walking (wandering) around alone in silence, watching films at home, and avoiding group activities—was being labeled "incorrect."

By the way, how did she know we had moved in? She mentioned she was told to visit by "someone at the municipal office." Well, I know she had good intensions, and perhaps my victim mentality is running high, but I can't help but feel a slight sense of "big brother" watching...