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Listen to Louise and Stew’s story as you read it (below).
Nights were draped in shadows, and, for Louise and Stew, that was becoming a problem. It wasn't just the darkness; it was the way the shadows played tricks.
The familiar hallway from their bedroom to the bathroom, a path they had walked for 50 years, now felt like a minefield. A misplaced slipper, a wrinkle in the rug, the sharp corner of the bookshelf — every step was becoming a calculated risk.
"I just … I can’t see," Louise admitted one night, her voice a whisper of frustration. Her eyes, once sharp enough to spot a robin in a distant tree, now struggled with the gloom.
Stew felt it, too. He was a man who prided himself on his steady footing, but lately, an after- midnight trip to the bathroom had him shuffling, his hands running along the wall for guidance.
Their kids had offered to buy them new lamps or maybe a fancy alarm clock with a light. But Stew had an idea, a better one. He had been looking at some new gadgets online, things that promised a future of easier trips to the bathroom after midnight. He showed Louise a picture on his tablet: a small, white disc with a sensor.
"Motion-activated nightlights," he announced, as if presenting a rare jewel. "You stick them on the wall. When you walk by, they light up."
Louise looked at the image, unconvinced. "More things to plug in? More things to go wrong?"
"No," Stew said, a playful smile on his face. "These are battery-powered. And I’ve got a better name for them. Our little ‘go-go guides’."
A week later, a box arrived, filled with the small white discs. Stew, with an engineer’s precision, measured the hallway, marking the perfect spots on the wall. Louise watched, a skeptical look on her face. "You're sure this is going to work?" she asked.
"Trust the go-go guides," he said, and, with a flourish, he peeled the backing off the first light and pressed it against the wall. He did the same with the others, creating a path of silent sentinels leading straight to the bathroom.
That night, Louise woke up to the usual call of nature. She swung her legs out of bed, her feet finding the cold floor. She started to reach for her bedside lamp, then hesitated. She remembered the go-go guides.
She took a step, and instantly, a soft, warm light bloomed on the wall. She took another step, and the next light in the series came on, illuminating the floor in front of her. A small, silent, glowing path appeared before her, guiding her safely down the hallway.
She reached the bathroom without a single stumble, the little lights a gentle beacon in the darkness. She came out a few minutes later, and the lights, sensing her movement, lit up again, guiding her safely back to bed.
When she crawled back into bed, she leaned over and kissed Stew on the cheek. “They’re not go-go guides,” she whispered. “They’re little angels.”
Over the next few weeks, the nightlights became more than just a convenience. They were a source of quiet amusement. One night, Stew got out of bed and did a little dance in the hallway, watching the lights flicker on and off in a pattern only he could see.
And one evening, their grandson, Timmy, was sleeping over. He woke up in the middle of the night and saw the lights. He padded into the hallway, his little face full of wonder. He walked back and forth, making them light up, a smile on his face.
"Grandma," he said the next morning, "your hallway is magic!"
Louise laughed. "It is," she said. "It's a little bit of magic we made for ourselves."
The hallway was still the same. The same old walls, the same worn rug. But now, it was a place of light, a path without a single shadow.
And the go-go guides were more than just lights. They were giving Louise and Stew a renewed sense of confidence that they could continue to live in the place they loved: their home.
Also hear and read this “parent story” from 2024:
Go to “Frank’s New Approach to Accepting Help”
Age: Our greatest asset!
Jim Hasse, ABC, GCDF retired, author of “52 Shades of Graying”
Weekly Stories About Aging Well
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I really like this post. It's a great example of a creative adaptation.
As a person with cerebral palsy, I’ve always been aware of the danger of falling in bathroom tubs. But, transferring that awareness into actual preventive steps to assure my safety took time.
In short, my steps to assure I would not be injured in a bad fall in the bathroom grew with the available technology and my awareness of the dangers involved.
During the 1970s, I was going up and down a steep set of stairs to an upstairs bathroom tub with no grab bars.
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During the 1980s and ‘90s, I was using a shower with a built-in seat and two grab bars.
By 2008, I installed a walk-in hot-tub with a seat and shower attachment.
I now have a wheel-in shower stall with a shower chair and plenty of grab bars.
At 82 years of age, I can now conclude that luck has been on my side throughout most of my life – no serious falls in the bathroom.
* When have you upgraded your home to make it a more enjoyable and safer place to live?