I am 91 and I have never particularly liked making a fuss.
In my younger days I was a model and an actress, although I have never been someone who enjoys being the centre of attention. I brought up a family, always had dogs and spent 30 years living in Puttenham, surrounded by the beautiful countryside of the Surrey Hills.
Our family dogs were collies, so there wasn't much opportunity to be sedentary. Anyone who has owned a collie will know that a short stroll around the block is not going to satisfy them. We spent many hours walking through the countryside, and being outdoors was simply part of everyday life.
Later, my husband Ian and I swapped country life for town life and moved to Farnham, where we lived very happily for 17 years.
My Soulmate
Ian was beside me for 66 years. He was my soulmate, my best friend and, in many ways, my opposite. He was confident and decisive. He knew where we were going and how we were getting there. I was quite happy with that arrangement.
As I became older and frailer, Ian increasingly looked after the practical things. I was becoming unsteady on my feet, and when we went out I would usually hold his arm, or the arm of one of my family. Country walks stopped, and even walking into town became difficult. Without really noticing it, my world became a little smaller.
Last year we moved to a retirement apartment in Godalming. Then, in May this year, Ian died very suddenly.
After 66 years of marriage, it is difficult to describe what it is like when the person who has always been beside you simply isn't there anymore. I was also faced with something very practical. The arm I had automatically reached for was no longer there.
Not long afterwards, I decided I would walk into town by myself. I didn't want to make a fuss and certainly didn't want everyone thinking I couldn't manage.
I got about 100 metres.
While crossing the road, I tripped and fell. Fortunately, I didn't break anything, although my face was quite a picture afterwards, and not in a good way. Some very kind people helped me and called an ambulance, and my daughter Didi rushed to be with me.
I recovered well physically, but my confidence had taken a knock. Didi suggested it might be time to consider a rollator.
The Search Begins
I think my family knew that getting me to agree to a mobility aid might require a little diplomacy.
I have always cared about how things look. My modelling days may be a long way behind me, but apparently some things don't change. I also don't like drawing attention to myself and didn't want something that looked like medical equipment.
Didi did some research. She knew I needed an extremely lightweight rollator because I am petite. It had to fold easily, fit into a car and tuck away discreetly when we arrived somewhere.
And preferably, it needed to be blue.
I have always loved blue. In fact, every car I have ever owned has been blue.
A friend's father had a byACRE Carbon Ultralight Rollator and apparently received compliments on it wherever he went. That sounded rather more promising.
So I agreed.
First Impressions
When it arrived, I immediately liked how light it felt and how easily the wheels moved. Then I noticed something more important. I could stand up straight.
When I had been holding someone's arm, I was concentrating on keeping my balance and matching their pace. With the rollator, I could find my own balance and walk at my own speed.
It folds easily and goes into the car without taking up much room, but the biggest surprise has been where it has taken me.
Venturing Out
I have started going for country walks again.
At 91 I am not proposing to tackle muddy footpaths or steep hills. We find places with good firm paths or boardwalks where the rollator moves easily.
At Thursley National Nature Reserve, I can walk along the boardwalk, hear the birds, smell the pine trees, feel the wind and stop to watch the little lizards. At Broadwater Park, I can watch the ducks and swans and look at the reflections on the water.
And when I've had enough walking, I put the brakes on and sit down.
On those first few outings, I realised just how many years it had been since I had enjoyed these simple things.
The Small Details
The seat is useful in everyday life too. There is music in the park in Godalming, and I can walk down, find a good spot near the bandstand and sit on my rollator to listen. I take my own seat with me.
If I become tired while shopping, I can sit for a few minutes. If there is a queue, I can sit while I wait. These may sound like small things, but they can make the difference between going somewhere and deciding it is too difficult.
I am also doing small shops and errands in Godalming by myself again.
My local M&S has provided an unexpected bonus. Their small shopping baskets fit perfectly on the rollator, so I can walk around with both hands free where I need them and put my shopping in the basket. Unfortunately, they won't let me take the basket home!
Walking more is helping with the stiffness that had crept in as I became less active too.
Ian would be pleased
Of course, none of this changes the fact that I have lost Ian. I am still very newly bereaved and, after sharing almost an entire lifetime with someone, you don't simply adjust in a few months.
But I think Ian would be pleased to see me getting out. He always loved being out and about, and I suspect he would approve of me finding a way to keep going.
My rollator hasn't suddenly made me young again. I am still 91. I get tired and I know my limitations. But those limitations don't dictate quite so much of what I can do.
Perhaps most importantly, I don't feel self-conscious using it. The byACRE Carbon Ultralight is light, elegant and unobtrusive, and yes, I am very pleased that mine is blue.
One Change
There is one thing I would improve. I bought the fabric grocery shopping bag that attaches to the front. It is useful, but I find it a little fiddly to open and close and get things in and out of. I would love a more accessible shopping bag or basket.
In fact, if byACRE could design something like the little M&S basket that fits so perfectly, I would be delighted. Preferably one that M&S will actually let me take home.
Getting something back
I wish I had realised sooner that using a rollator doesn't necessarily mean giving something up.
For me, it has meant getting something back.
Fresh air. Birds. Trees. Music in the park. A little shopping. The pleasure of stopping beside the water and looking at the reflections.
And, after many years of automatically reaching for Ian's arm, I am gradually learning how to find my own balance again.
Learn More About my Rollator
