Ageing Gracefully

Now I realize that I'm a bit young to be focusing my attention on this subject, but lately I've been pondering about the passing of time and how it affects both body and mind. Yes, I am talking about growing old. It's funny how when you're younger and you look at people who are ahead of you in years; you think to yourself, "Man, that guy is old!" I think we all do this - look at people's ages from the perspective of where we are ourselves in time (does that sound kinds science-fiction like? I was tempted to use the phrase "time-line" but that sounded too geeky-Star Trek talk...) It works backwards too; we have friends who are married and are really young (both are 20). I think to myself, "Gee, when I got married these guys were in kindergarten..."

But I find as I get older that I'm starting to reach those ages where I thought people were ready to turn to dust & blow away. When I became the same age as my brothers were when I got engaged (at 19) I thought of their reaction to the news that I was getting married. Now I have a niece who is about the same age as I was when I just got hitched, and I think if she got engaged I would react the same way my brothers did back then - with fear and trepidation! Another niece of mine is married today and has a career as a schoolteacher. I still remember the day she got out of the hospital - where did that little baby go? Oh, and I can't forget that I have two other nieces that were born just before Angel & I wed; if we want to think about how long we've been married we look no further than these girls who are graduating from high school next year...

There was a time where the passage of time bothered me, because I looked at from the perspective of loss. True, we all are slowly loosing our youth, energy and health to old age, and some day the sand in each of our hourglasses will run out. As time goes by we experience disappointments, failures and live with regrets. Time has been spent in ways that we wish we didn't spend it and it's time that we can never get back. But we also gain a lot over time too; we experience travel, friendship and accomplishments small and large. We shape our lives little by little with the good choices we make, and we can look back on these things with a sense of pride and accomplishment. And then we realize that we don't think of ourselves as "old"; we aren't defined by our age but rather we simply are who we are. I don't think of myself as someone who's in his later 30s, I think of myself as me.

So once I realize that age is all in my head I can actually begin to enjoy getting older. Sure, I won't look forward to aching joints, hair that relocates from the back of my head and starts growing out my ears instead (oh wait a minute, that's already starting...). But I do look forward to experiencing more of life. There was a time when I wasn't thankful to God for my life, but now I am because I see what I've gained even though there's been loss along the way. And getting older can also be fun. My good friend David turned 40 yesterday, and we had his "Half-Way to 80s" party on Saturday. It was such a blast, and it made me look forward to my 40th birthday in two years (I'm already brainstorming how I want to mark that auspicious occasion). It simply a matter of attitude that helps us age gracefully, and it's better to have a positive attitude because a negative one won't give you one minute of your life back. So forget the botox, add some more lines to my face and bring on the grey hair; I can take it and still feel like I'm 20-something.

A day in the life

I'm home at the moment between bus runs, and I wanted to take some time to write about the people that I drive from place to place. They are the reasons why I love my job so much, because they have enriched my life and the lives of others simply by being who they are. I hope you enjoy this little glimpse into a world that most people aren't exposed to, and I hope that it also helps bring some understanding to a segment of the population that isn't always accepted. So here is a typical day in the life of me, a bus driver for Robin Hood Association. All the clients' names mentioned from hereon have been changed to protect their privacy.

My day starts pretty early; I'm either up by 6 or 6:30 am, depending on the schedule. Drivers are the first people at the learning centre, the place where all the clients go for their classes, appointments with OTs or physiotherapists, work in the production area or go to their supported employment placements in the community; the list goes on. I usually arrive about 15-20 minutes before I'm on the road, and after the pre-schedule check of the vehicle I start my day. I love the roar of the big diesel bus and the feel of the vehicle as I'm driving down the road; there's a sense of freedom in a job that takes you from place to place, as opposed to being stuck in one spot for 8 hours. I think it's also a guy thing, operating a piece of machinery with lots of switches operating different things including the lift, which moves wheelchair users in and out of the bus. But let me tell you now about the people I drive around.

One of the first persons I pick up in the morning is Amy, a young lady with a bright smile and a positive disposition. It's always a pleasure to see her; whenever I have to put her seatbelt on I tell her, "Stick'em up!" and she raises her hands up and says "Stick'em up and give me all your smiles!" Another person on my first morning run is Dale, a slender man in a big power wheelchair. He's a little hard to understand as his speech is not well developed, but I can pick out the usual phrases like "How are you today?" Lately he's been fixating on going to camp, and I hear over and over again "I'm going to camp - one more week." So I tease him by saying, "Nope, I called them and canceled!" Now I just say, "Dale, I don't want to hear a word that rhymes with scamp, tramp, damp or cramp!" Either way I get a good reaction out of him, which is all in fun of course.

Between runs there is some time to kill, so usually I hang out in the transportation lounge with the other drivers. It isn't long before Kyle shows up, a small restless fellow who doesn't stay in one place unless you nail his wheelchair to the floor... Anyhow he always says the same thing over and over again, "I'm gonna call my mom, my dad, my grandma, my grandpa..." Then he proceeds to point out his "sore" knee and then his "sore" finger (both of which are fine). Every time I see I him I cut him off at the pass by saying, "I know, your mom, your dad, your grandma and your grandpa" as I list the four of them off on my fingers. Then I say "Hey, I hear your staff calling you. Go find her." He then puts his hand on his head, gives out a long "argh!", turns and then wheels down the corridor as fast as he can.

And then there's Daniel, who I go pick up at one of the co-ops in Sherwood Park (almost all of our clients live in group homes but several live in the two cooperative housing complexes in the community). Daniel's a live wire, and we are always teasing each other. But one time he said to me, "You know Hendrick, I don't think you drivers get enough credit for what you do, so I just want to say that I appreciate you." Well I appreciate guys like Daniel who are easy to get along with. But not all the clients have the best of dispositions. One fellow who we'll call Alex has some challenging behaviors and extra care is taken when he gets on and off the bus. When we get to the centre I make a point of getting out of the vehicle before he does for safety reasons. The last two times we've arrived I've watched him make a point of leaning over the steering wheel and honking the horn before getting off the bus. It's really funny to see him do it, and it reminds me that even the "tough cases" can be a delight at times.

A real bright ray of sunshine I find is Sam, a handsome red head with a big moustache and an even bigger laugh. We have a standard greeting when we see each other. "Where's my money?" I ask. Sam then puts his hands in his pocket and pulls them out. "I don't have it!" he says. Sometimes I'll come up behind him and cover his eyes, which he's try to grab and so he can "slime" me (you can guess what that means). If he doesn't succeed he'll press his finger on his nose and say "I maybe bite for you!" which just means you better watch it or I'll get you next time. When I've pushed my luck too far he'll succeed in grabbing my hand, bring it up to his mouth and blow a lot of saliva on it. "He's on the slime!" he'll say, which then sends me off to a washroom to rinse my slimy hand off. Oh, and we can't forget high five: I'll say "Give me five" and we'll do it up high. "Down low" I'll say and bring my hand down. He's try and give me five but I always move my hand away. "Toooo slooooww" he'll then say. Sam has got to be one of my favorite clients at the centre.

I can go on and on here, but I want to end this post by paying tribute to my co-workers. I have had the privilege of meeting and working alongside some outstanding folks who are caring and dedicated to serving the needs of persons with disabilities. From our CEO Ed Riedigar to Koreen, my boss in transportation (who's the best person I've ever worked for), the drivers, team leaders, day program workers and residential staff are people I'm proud to work with. Over the years some of them have become friends that I am blessed to have in my life. And when I'm finally done for the day, after everyone else has gone home and I park the van, I feel tired but also good about what I do. I don't know if I'll do this line of work til I'm 65, but I do know that when the day comes where I leave Robin Hood I'll look back on my time there as some of the best years of my life.