At my workplace most of the residents are elderly. It’s a building of upscale condos, an attractive looking place with many amenities. The small staff, including myself, was hired from a security company. Each guard has a second interview with the condo manager to weed out the unsavory characters. They want comely, well-spoken, young men to dress up in suits and function not only as guards but as general all-round slaves. We help with luggage, call cabs, schedule parties and deal with the catering staff, set up for moves and deliveries etc. There are lots of little duties and procedures to do and follow. Since most people are elderly we occasionally deal with death too.
Last month a gentleman died at a local hospital of cerebral bleeding after he slipped outside on some ice. (Snowfall was very heavy this year in London and I believe the city exhausted their snow removal budget in January. As a result, sidewalk conditions were awful for the last half of winter.) This man previously had a stroke and couldn’t speak anymore. Still, every morning at 7a.m. or so, he went for a morning walk. The front doors are very heavy. However this older gentleman would walk with a determined, fast stride and push those doors open effortlessly. If I only had one word to describe him it would be strong. I recently found out he was 85. I was very surprised and awed to know that he was in such good shape at that advanced age.
Anyway, this past week end, I talked to his widow for the first time since his death. I told her of how I perceived him and she told me that he had regarded his stroke as more of a challenge than a debilitation. That he had incredible moral strength as well as physical. At the time, she was mailing responses to condolence letters from across Canada regarding his death. He was the father of a very recognizable Canadian celebrity and had a full page obituary in the Globe and Mail, a national newspaper. He was the recipient of the full page on his own merit though.
I expressed genuine concern and interest to the widow, so she went to her condo and brought me a photocopy of the obituary article. He had been flown in the RAF during World War II as a Flight Lieutenant and Wing Commander. He had received the Distinguished Flying Cross from King George and had survived over fifty bombing missions. The article outlined his remarkable life in and after the war which I thought it was incredibly inspiring. Much more so since I had known and seen his strength and courage in person, unmistakable and impossible to miss even in his mid-eighties and after a serious stroke. A brave man from a brave generation, who had calm and determination that probably resulted from being under the most dangerous conditions for such a long time. I hope I can carry myself that well.
The Ancient Undergrad 
some elderly people are truly amazing. i cannot imagine facing every day with eighty years’ worth of thoughts, memories, and emotions built up inside my head.
did you REALLY have to say that about the spiders? i am hoping desperately that that is nothing more than an urban legend. i can feel the legs inside my stomach now…
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I think a lot of young people today just look at the elderly like they’re already gone. They don’t realize what awesome people they are.RYC: Yes sir, you are correct. Rowdy Roddy Piper did that quote. I have no idea what possessed me to write it like that yesterday! It just seemed funny! I was trying to think of a Bruce quote to fit but none were coming to mind.I use to watch that old Hercules cartoon along with Rocket Robin Hood and the old Justice League really, really early in the mornings.
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You will.
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My God, me too. In this respect more than any other I am very much masculine. I want to be strong and brave, no withering violet here. Best of luck to the both us! HERE HERE!!
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What a great man..
now I was gonna say something else about what you wrote, but I forgot now. Ergh. Stupid brain fart.
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i was about to say “i also like Hump”, but somehow that didnt seem appropriate for this post. funny how i said it anyway.as for the spiders, i heard it was 8.
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What a nice story. Like I’ve said before, you write so well.And how can you not like Mr. Rogers? He was a doll.
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old people get all the good stuff like silk depands and stuff..
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It’s interesting… I am kinda stuck on this post. I read it yesterday and I have found myself returning to it in my mind. You know that generation was so remarkable. Many of us know someone like this man. I know my grandparents were this way. Both of them have died in the last year and half or so, and so to see them die and watch a dibilating disease take my grandfather and a sudden stoke with my grandmother, I know what you’re talking about. My grandpa was the most stubborn man I have ever met. He was grouchy at times, but that was because the man worked like no other man I have ever known. He was dedicated to his family and life of strength. He was always out to beat the odds. He died when he was 80, but he worked like a man in his fourties until he 78. The man didn’t know the meaning of quit. And my grandma, was the same. She worked hard and full of love for the Olympic Training Center until a few months before she died, when a doctor told her she had to slow down. She was 68.
I am truly humbled by this generation. I have gone through therepy like most of us our age and whined about how unfair life is, and came up with many a plan to retire early and live well. It hasn’t been until recently, that I realize that I like the life my grandparents better. Work hard, live strong, love always. The rest is just mehh. I don’t know if I can fill that kind of shoe. Something to ponder indeed.
Look what you did.
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Wow, that nearly made me cry. Thanks for such a touching tribute to someone who sounds like a very great man.
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