Dianne Williamson
dwilliamson@telegram.com
Florence Gaudette doesn’t care to dwell on the past.
When pressed, she’ll tell you about her childhood, how she was teased by kids and ignored by teachers because she was legally blind. She’ll talk about raising her seven siblings because her mother was ill. She’ll describe waiting in line for food rations during the Depression. She’ll confirm that, yes, she lost a son to cancer in 1962.
She’ll talk about these things when asked, because she’s polite. But she’d rather not waste time.
She’d rather be dancing.
“If I had someone to take me dancing, I’d go dancing every night,” she said. “I want to live for today. There’s so much to do, so I don’t look back.”
Later today, this petite, tiny dancer will celebrate her 95th birthday with a party at Dodge Park Rest Home in Worcester. She’s the oldest resident there and surely the most active. But she discourages any talk that she’s a favorite among the staff, because she fears the other residents could get jealous and won’t dance with her anymore.
“I like fun and excitement,” she said. “I always have.”
As a child, she put on shows in her Mechanic Street neighborhood of Leominster, but it wasn’t always easy. She and five of her seven siblings were born legally blind, and she recalls that some children used to push her and call her names.
“A neighbor told my mother that if she had kids like us, she would have drowned them,” Mrs. Gaudette recalled. “But I didn’t let anyone step on me.”
There were no accommodations in the early 1900s for disabled children, so Florence would sit in class and listen to her classmates learn. She left grade school after a few years and didn’t learn to read until after she was married. In her teens, her mother was frail, and she did all the cooking, cleaning and baby-sitting. When the Depression came, she stood in line for canned goods.
“You accepted life the way it was,” she said. “No one complained.”
She married her husband, Rodolphe J. Gaudette, in 1940. Together they raised six children in a first-floor apartment on Worcester’s Maywood Street. Rodolphe drove a bus and Florence stayed home with the kids, but she always kept busy.
“She was a fun mom,” said her daughter, Jean DeIeso. “She helped us make costumes for Halloween. We never knew we were poor. She tried everything, did everything.”
She’s held benefits and fundraisers for the New England Eye Bank. When her 20-year-old son died after a two-year battle with leukemia, he donated his eyes for a successful corneal transplant. In 1978, at age 63, she collected 2,000 signatures calling for an end to a city bus strike. She was also active in the establishment of the city’s Senior Center.
And she always loved to dance. In the 1970s she held square dancing classes at Lincoln Village and popular line dancing lessons for senior citizens. Today, she tries to coax friends at Dodge Park to dance and take her weekly lessons. She also organizes games and other activities for the residents.
“I can move around like I’m in my 20s,” she said. “I’m the only one in this place that moves the way I do. It’s just in me.”
She showed off a few light steps in her room last week, dressed in a flowing white skirt, red blouse and Ked sneakers. She dresses up every day and prefers panty hose to pants. (“I always look like this,” she noted.) Recently she met a suitor at Dodge Park and they spoke of marriage before he died last month.
“I never thought I’d fall in love at 94,” she said. “He was a real gentleman. He wasn’t fresh or anything. You know some of these men, they meet you and right away try to get you into bed.”
While the staff at Dodge Park speaks of her energy and enthusiasm, Mrs. Gaudette urges them not to make a fuss over her. Today she just wants to eat cake, socialize and dance around the dining room. Asked if she planned to make a wish when she blows out her birthday candles, she smiled serenely and said she had nothing to wish for.
“I’ll just thank God for what I have,” she said. “There’s nothing more I need. How many people can do what I do at 95?”
