The daily Astorian. (Astoria, Or.) 1961-current, June 10, 2021, Page 26, Image 26

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    B4
THE ASTORIAN • THuRSdAy, JuNE 10, 2021
Mahjong days bring friends together again
By TOM HALLMAN JR.
The Oregonian
Only now do four Portland women know
they’d taken for granted something created long
ago. Losing it for more than a year because of
the coronavirus pandemic allowed them to dis-
cover that truth.
For 15 years they’ve been meeting twice a
month to play mahjong. Invented in China in
the 1800s, the game uses domino-like tiles with
Chinese symbols and characters. Once a player
gets the hang of it, the game is relatively sim-
ple. That leaves the women time to engage in
trash talk — the gentle kind you’d expect when
old friends gamble a few bucks over the course
of four hours — while having fun and simply
being with each other.
Then came the pandemic, which began clos-
ing down schools, offices, restaurants and all
kinds of in-person entertainment. The twice-
monthly mahjong game also fell victim to the
insidious virus.
The players, who range from in age from
69 to 84, took the virus seriously. At their age
they were considered high risk. If they became
infected, they could get sick, or even die. At
first, they thought the pause would be tempo-
rary. Then one month turned into another, and,
finally, into more than a year. Oh, they kept
in touch over the telephone, but it just wasn’t
the same. Recently — all vaccinated — they
reached out to each other and decided it was
time to start again.
“I realize just why these friendships are so
important,” said Peggie Irvine-Page, 81. “Iso-
lation was disappointing and hard. It made me
realize it is the little things that get a person
through the tough times.”
The group rotates between members’ homes.
The first game of 2021 took place at Maryann
Bozigar’s place in northeast Portland. At 69,
she describes herself as the baby of the group.
The woman all arrived with their tiny, almost
doll-size, purses where they carry the quarters
they use to bet.
“We maybe spend $3 dollars during a ses-
sion,” she said. “But over the year these quar-
ters just move around from person to person.”
Bozigar said her mother, gone 11 years now,
taught her how to play mahjong.
“We have a blast together,” she said. “A cou-
ple of these women are very funny. This group
has been there through the good times and bad
times we all have. We share stories about our-
selves, our kids and our grandkids.”
Mary Beth Young, 77, said when she first
started playing with the group she had to con-
centrate on the tiles and the score card, which
looks intimidating — FF 111 222 333 is but one
example — to the uninitiated.
“I was so exhausted at the end of the games
that when I got home, I couldn’t even watch
“Antiques Roadshow’ on TV,” she said. “It took
that much energy. It’s easier now. It’s a bit of
skill and a bit of luck. I build on the luck.”
By its very nature, she said, mahjong is,
for the most part, a game for people with time
on their hands. The women in this group are
retired. Only one is married. The others have
been single or widowed for years.
“No 30-year-old is going to play this,”
Young said. “I didn’t. We were busy raising
‘I REALIZE JuST WHy
THESE FRIENdSHIPS
ARE SO IMPORTANT.
ISOLATION WAS
dISAPPOINTING
ANd HARd. IT MAdE
ME REALIZE IT IS
THE LITTLE THINGS
THAT GET A PERSON
THROuGH THE
TOuGH TIMES.’
Peggie Irvine-Page, 81
Photos by Beth Nakamura/The Oregonian
ABOVE: Friends Peggie Irvine-Page, Kathy Tweedy, Maryann Bozigar and Mary Beth Young
play mahjong.TOP: The friends play the game regularly.
a family, trying to buy a home and working.
Older women, where the family is gone, need
something to fill the hours. My daughters are
51 and 55. They encourage me to be part of
‘Mahjong Day.’ They don’t want me on their
doorstep.”
With the game halted, the friends kept in
touch with each other on the phone and dropped
off small gifts for each other — masked up and
at a great distance — during Christmas. But it
just wasn’t the same as gathering around a table.
They understood the need to wait. Across the
United States, nearly 600,000 people have died
from COVID-19. The daily news, since reports
of that first infection in 2020, has been grim.
“The virus reminded those of us at this mah-
jong table of our mortality,” Young said. “It’s
our age. It’s unspoken. We all push it away, but
it is there. This group will not go on forever. We
all die. My life is moving on. At any funeral you
cry for the loss of a friend, but also because you
know you are next.”
Kathy Tweedy, who at 84 is the oldest mem-
ber of the group, enjoys the routine, the date on
the calendar, twice a month, that invigorates her
spirit.
“It’s a positive afternoon,” she said. “Every-
one has a different opinion about current events
and other issues. But we speak our minds. Being
at that table is a safe place to be ourselves.”
In the end, it is just a game, a simple game
played twice a month around a table, four
women laughing and talking and wager-
ing a few quarters. But sometimes the simple
moments in life are the best.
“Being back at the table is such a relief,”
Tweedy said. “It’s like coming home again.”
Phone program offers comfort to isolated seniors
By KYLE SPURR
The Bulletin
Carol Allison looks forward to her weekly
calls from a friend she’s never met.
The 85-year-old writer and illustrator in
Madras has talked regularly over the phone
for the past three months with Kelli Bradley,
a volunteer with Caring Connections, a pro-
gram that connects volunteers with seniors
experiencing isolation through the coronavi-
rus pandemic.
“I just thought it would be fun to do that
and meet somebody new and talk,” Allison
said. “Since I live by myself.”
Allison, who moved from Portland
to Madras in 1956, has lived alone since
her husband died of cancer in the mid-
1960s. But she is not as lonely as other
seniors. She has three sons, including one
in Madras, and nine grandchildren and 10
great-grandchildren.
Still, Allison lights up when she talks
with Bradley, a Sunriver resident who works
in consulting and owned an in-home care
company for several years. The two talk for
hours about cooking, computer problems
and how much central Oregon has changed
since Allison arrived.
They both feel grateful they were
matched through the program.
“It helps people and it brings people
together,” Allison said. “I think it would be
great for elderly people who can’t get out or
don’t have anything at home to keep them
busy.”
Denise LaBuda, director of communica-
tions for the Council on Aging of Central
Oregon, said the council started the Caring
Connections program last fall. The organiza-
tion started to notice seniors were more iso-
lated than usual due to the pandemic. More
than 50 seniors across the region signed up
for the program.
“It was pretty clear people were growing
less connected,” LaBuda said.
For many of the seniors, the phone call
from a volunteer is the only social inter-
action they get each week, LaBuda said.
The phone calls are also a way to check
on a senior and make sure they are staying
healthy, she said.
Dean Guernsey/The Bulletin
Carol Allison, 85, of Madras, with her 20-year-old parrot, ‘Missy.’
Social isolation was an issue for seniors
even before the pandemic, LaBuda said.
National studies identified loneliness in
seniors as a growing epidemic with higher
health risks than obesity or smoking. An
AARP study found one-third of seniors
nationwide reported feeling a lack of com-
panionship. LaBuda believes the same is
true locally.
“It’s not that this was new,” LaBuda said.
“COVID just made it all worse.”
The group hopes to grow the Caring Con-
nections program beyond the pandemic.
The program recently received a
$137,837 grant from the Central Oregon
Health Council. And the program is also
using a software system to collect statis-
tics on the number, frequency and duration
of phone calls. The information will then
be analyzed by the Oregon Health & Sci-
ence University Community Research Hub
to understand the effect of the weekly calls.
LaBuda said the program may soon
expand to in-person visits as well.
“We already have volunteers who would
like to go see the people,” LaBuda said.
“They would like to meet them when it gets
safe and build a friendship in person.”
Bradley signed up for the program three
months ago and was matched with Allison.
Bradley has experience caring for seniors
through her business, The Devoted Daugh-
ter, which offers resources for professional
caregivers and those caregiving for a fam-
ily member.
“This is kind of in my wheelhouse,”
Bradley said. “I saw the ad and thought I can
do this. It’s not a big deal. I called and said
I’d love to help if I can.”
Every time Allison answers the phone,
Bradley can tell she is smiling.
“She is very positive. She’s always
happy,” Bradley said. “She has lots of inter-
esting stories. Although we come from dif-
ferent backgrounds, we always find things to
chit chat about. I think it’s good for both of
us.”
The weekly phone calls often turn into
productive conversations. A couple weeks
ago, Allison was writing a story for her
grandson and needed help giving the char-
acters names. Bradley helped Allison come
up with ideas.
“It’s just good to be able to help her, and
I enjoy it,” Bradley said.
After three months, Bradley feels like
she knows Allison on a personal level. She
would be able to tell if something was wrong
with Allison. The weekly calls offer comfort
for them both.
“We spend hours on the phone,” Bradley
said. “I would be worried if she was down in
the dumps. That’s not her.”