My bravery is less than valiant, my leadership skills slight, my small talk talents minimal. To compound these deficits, a narrow comfort zone paralyses me when confronted with new challenges.

Forced by health issues into retirement at 40, I envisioned life as a continual financial and physical burden to my family.

My career as a legal assistant was a cornerstone of my life. It defined me – an intelligent person with valuable skills to contribute to society. Work provided me with a purpose. My greatest fulfilment was assisting seniors though the probate process after the loss of loved ones. These devastated clients wrenched my heart.

Shortly after retirement, I was mired in grief by a sense of uselessness.

“Don’t sit and cry. Enquire about volunteer positions at the seniors’ centre,” my husband said in an effort to boost my morale. He gave me a verbal boot in the pants.

The next morning I did exactly that. Within hours Janice from the Seniors’ Centre phoned about an orientation session for volunteers. As orientation progressed, I decided my preferred position was clerical assistant. On the last day of the program Janice led a game.

“Raise your hand if you’re interested in administration,” she said. Without hesitation I did.

“Visits to isolated seniors,” she called. My hand, seemingly disconnected from my brain, rose again. I ached to recant, but embarrassment prevented me.

My fervent hope was that no one needed visits. What could we talk about? How about awkward pauses that last an eternity until you raise an unimaginative subject that initiates a twenty-second response?

Time passed without mention of visits. I relaxed and enjoyed my administrative duties. One afternoon Janice approached me as I worked on data entry.

“There’s a lovely lady who needs a visitor. Her name is Peggy. She’s 77 and has short term memory loss. Peggy lives outside town and I can’t find anyone to drive there.”

Although I yearned to decline, guilt seeped in. I nodded.

The appointed day arrived. I agonized beforehand to formulate a plan to avert potential conversational disasters. By the time I reached Peggy’s house, anxiety coiled my stomach and my grand strategy vaporized as nerves overcame me.

A petite woman answered the doorbell. I introduced myself.

“Where are you from?” Peggy’s face wrinkled in confusion.

I explained once more. She invited me in with obvious pleasure.

I spent an hour and a half with Peggy. She poured tea and gushed conversation throughout. We visited weekly until Peggy entered a care facility.

I provide companionship to another senior now. Eyes that brighten when I arrive and hugs and kisses bestowed when I leave mean more than a paycheque. These lonesome elders chatter non-stop thrilled someone listens.

My comfort zone stretched when I accepted the invitation to visit Peggy. I’m honoured my ladies share their lives with me. They’ve given me confidence to strive for new goals. These women have had a memorable hand in my personal growth as a productive member of society.