One hot afternoon, a father, his boy and a girl aged 5 and 3, respectively, and a dog were on the sidewalk; he was patiently teaching his children how to use their bike and a kick scooter; he was slowly walking along with them, with all eyes on these young tots.
Occasionally, they would stop, with the father ensuring his boy was biking safely, and her little girl was kicking her scooter through the sidewalk.
Despite the heat, they all seemed to enjoy doing their stuff.
I had another encounter with a white man, maybe in his 70s, walking alone on the sidewalk at Livingston Road. He had just got off the bus when I met him; he was on the way home. We had a chat since we were going in the same direction. I told him that I would always notice him walking in the morning, going to the bus stop, and I assumed maybe he was going somewhere.
I would always see him going home between 2-4 in the afternoon. Intrigued about the regularity of his routine, I told him what I had been noticing about his usual “routine. Then, he began to open up, telling me that his wife was in the nursing home, and he would bring some lunch to her every day. He has been visiting and delivering lunch to her for years.
His Filipino wife has been in the nursing home for years, and he told me, ” I love her.”They had been together for 27 years.
Because of that brief encounter with him, I told myself the next time I meet him; I would invite him for a chat at Tim Horton’s near our place to hear more about his love affair with his wife.
A few months before the onset of winter, what caught my attention while walking Guildwood was a group of more than ten seniors who used wheelchairs being pushed behind their wheels by some people, most probably the staff of the nearby nursing home.
Being curious, I followed them until we reached Tim Horton’s nearby.
They were ushered in at the coffee shop, and the people with them ordered some coffee and muffins for older people. What was observable was the smiles on the faces of these seniors when they got their coffee and muffins; some sipped their coffee while watching TV. A handful stayed glued to their coffee, not minding the rest of the people there.
Some seniors animatedly exchanged conversations with the staff and other seniors. It was apparent how these staff lovingly cared for these seniors, assisting them in any way they could.
I couldn’t help but be touched by what I saw because, at 73, I’m also over the hills; who knows, someday I’ll be one of these seniors attended to by others to care for me.
