Reflections on February

 There’s something quietly satisfying about the last day of February. It’s not flashy like New Year’s Eve, and it doesn’t come with fireworks or countdown clocks, but it carries a special kind of relief, like finishing a long chapter and gently turning the page.

February is the shortest month, yet somehow it can feel like the longest. It arrives on the heels of January, when optimism is high, and the calendar is still clean, and then settles in with cold mornings, early sunsets, and weather that seems undecided about everything. Snow one day, rain the next, and a stiff wind just to keep us humble.

And yet, here we are. We made it.

On this last day of February, it’s worth pausing to appreciate what this month quietly gives us, especially as seniors who’ve learned that joy often lives in small, well-earned moments.

February is the month that reminds us we are tougher than we think. We’ve navigated icy sidewalks with the grace of seasoned penguins. We’ve layered clothing with the precision of engineers: thermal shirt, sweater, vest, scarf, coat, and then decided halfway down the driveway that we’re too warm after all. We’ve learned to keep gloves in every coat pocket because winter has taught us that preparation is wisdom, not pessimism.

There’s humour in that, if we allow ourselves to see it.

February is also the month that invites us to slow down without guilt. The days are still short, the light is still soft, and the world hasn’t quite asked us to hurry yet. This is the season of soup that simmers all afternoon, of books that stay open on the arm of a chair, of naps that feel earned rather than indulgent. February permits us to rest, not because we’re tired, but because rest is part of living well.

And then there’s the quiet promise threaded through the month.

By the last day of February, the light has changed. You notice it first in the morning. The sun lingers just a little longer, as if it’s remembering its job. The afternoons stretch by a few precious minutes. Birds begin rehearsing, tentatively at first, as though they don’t want to jinx anything. Somewhere beneath the frozen ground, things are stirring, even if we can’t see them yet.

That’s the joy of February, it teaches us about hope without spectacle.

For seniors, especially, February carries a kind of wisdom we recognize. It doesn’t shout about new beginnings. It whispers. It reminds us that not all progress is dramatic. Some of it happens quietly, beneath the surface, while we’re busy living our ordinary days.

There’s also something delightful about February’s imperfections. It doesn’t even bother to have a full set of days. Twenty-eight most years, twenty-nine if it’s feeling generous. February knows its limits and isn’t apologizing. There’s a lesson in that, too. After a certain age, we stop trying to be everything to everyone. We choose what matters. We keep what’s meaningful. We let the rest go.

On this last day of the month, it’s perfectly acceptable to celebrate in small, personal ways. Maybe it’s a walk taken a little later in the afternoon, just to enjoy the light. Maybe it’s treating yourself to something bright at the grocery store, tulips that insist on spring, oranges that taste like sunshine, or seeds you don’t quite trust yet but buy anyway. Maybe it’s calling a friend and laughing about how winter always feels endless right up until it isn’t.

February also prepares us emotionally for what comes next. March will arrive full of opinions, windy, unpredictable, and eager to show off. Spring will tease and retreat, advance and pause. But February teaches patience. It reminds us that endings don’t have to be dramatic to be meaningful.

There’s joy in reaching the end of winter’s quietest month and realizing we’re still curious, still laughing, still noticing the light. There’s joy in knowing that every February we’ve lived through has brought us here, to another turning point, another small victory over cold mornings and stubborn skies.

So today, on February’s final bow, take a moment. Open the curtains. Let the light in. Acknowledge the season for what it’s given you: rest, reflection, resilience, and just enough hope to keep you looking ahead.

Winter is loosening its grip. Spring is clearing its throat. And you, having lived long enough to know that seasons always change, get to enjoy the quiet satisfaction of having made it once again.

That’s the joy of February. And it’s worth celebrating.

How These Myths Fuel Ageism

 Ageism doesn’t usually begin with cruelty. It begins with assumptions.

When younger people believe that seniors are unhappy, wealthy, confused, resistant, or irrelevant, those beliefs quietly shape decisions, about hiring, health care, housing, transportation, technology, and community design. Language changes. Patience shortens. Voices are dismissed.

These myths create an environment where ageism can flourish without being named.

They show up when older workers are passed over “just in case.”
When services are moved online without support.
When policy decisions are justified by stereotypes instead of evidence.
When older adults are spoken about, but not spoken with.

Perhaps the most damaging myth is the idea that ageing itself is the problem.

Ageing is not the problem. Ageism is.

Ageism limits opportunity, isolates people, and weakens communities. It also harms younger people by teaching them to fear their own future. When we challenge myths about ageing, we’re not just defending seniors, we’re reshaping what it means to grow older in this province.

As the Seniors Advocate rightly urges, this work begins with reflection. It continues with language, curiosity, and conversation. And it becomes real when policies and practices recognize older adults not as stereotypes, but as people.

Because the truth is simple:
We are all ageing, just at different speeds.

The top ten myths about seniors in BC (2)

The Top 10 Myths About Seniors in B.C. (Myths 6–10)

Less obvious myths that quietly reinforce ageism

Myth 6: Seniors are a burden on the health care system
Fact: Seniors are also major contributors to care, prevention, and community support.

Older adults provide unpaid caregiving, volunteer in hospitals and communities, and actively manage chronic conditions to stay independent. Framing seniors as “a burden” ignores their contributions and oversimplifies complex system-wide health care challenges.

Myth 7: Seniors don’t want to learn new things
Fact: Lifelong learning is common among older adults.

Seniors take courses, learn new skills, adapt to new systems, and pursue creative and intellectual interests well into later life. What often limits participation is access, cost, transportation, or assumptions that learning opportunities are “not for them.”

Myth 8: Most seniors are socially isolated by choice
Fact: Isolation is usually caused by barriers, not preference.

Transportation gaps, inaccessible housing, digital barriers, and the loss of peers can shrink social networks. Most seniors want connection, purpose, and belonging, but need inclusive environments to make that possible.

Myth 9: Seniors are resistant to change
Fact: Older adults have lived through, and adapted to, enormous change.

Economic shifts, technological revolutions, social movements, and global crises are part of many seniors’ lived experiences. Adaptability doesn’t disappear with age; it’s often refined by experience.

Myth 10: Seniors are all the same
Fact: Older adults are the most diverse age group.

Seniors differ by culture, income, education, health, gender identity, ability, geography, and life experience. Treating them as a single group erases individuality and leads to one-size-fits-all policies.

The top ten myths about seniors in BC

The Senior Advocate for the province of BC recently released the top 5 myths that his office found many younger people believe about seniors in BC I did some research and came up with a few more myths. In the next three posts, I will discuss the myths.

Post One: The Top 10 Myths About Seniors in B.C. (Myths 1–5)

The most common myths that influence how younger people perceive ageing

Myth 1: Most older people are grumpy and unhappy
Fact: Research consistently shows that happiness increases later in life.

The well-known “U-curve of happiness” shows satisfaction is high in youth, dips in midlife, and rises again after age 55. Statistics Canada data from 2025 shows that 60.5% of Canadians aged 65+ rated their life satisfaction between 8 and 10 out of 10, compared to 46% of people aged 15–24. Many older adults report greater emotional regulation, perspective, and contentment than earlier in life.

Myth 2: Most older people are wealthy
Fact: Most B.C. seniors live on low to moderate incomes.

In B.C., about 25% of seniors live on annual incomes below $23,800, and half live on under $37,000 a year. Community organizations report record numbers of seniors using food banks and meal programs, and seniors are one of the fastest-growing groups experiencing homelessness. The image of the “well-off retiree” hides real financial vulnerability.

Myth 3: Most older people can’t use or adapt to technology
Fact: Seniors are more tech-savvy than ever.

In 2022, 83% of Canadians aged 65+ used the internet, with B.C. leading the country. During the pandemic, the vast majority of seniors went online daily for banking, health care, communication, and learning. The real barriers are cost, design complexity, and lack of support—not age.

Myth 4: Older workers are not as effective as younger workers
Fact: Job performance is not determined by age.

Research shows that intellectual capacity and the ability to perform routine or complex tasks do not decline simply because someone gets older. While some physical jobs may require accommodation, many older workers bring experience, judgment, reliability, and mentorship skills. In 2024, 15% of people aged 65+ in B.C. were employed—higher than the national average. Policies that restrict benefits or pensions based solely on age contribute to discrimination, not productivity.

Myth 5: Most older people have dementia or serious memory loss
Fact: Dementia is not a normal part of ageing.

In B.C., only about 5% of people aged 65+ have dementia, and that rate has remained stable for years. Occasional forgetfulness is not the same as cognitive decline. Assuming memory loss simply because someone is older fuels fear, stigma, and exclusion.