DIGNITY DOESN'T HAVE AN EXPIRY DATE

One day a few years ago, while on my way to buy Christmas presents during a very snowy, Canadian winters day, I saw an elderly man, hunched beyond belief, shuffling slowly through the street with a couple of full shopping bags in one hand, and a cane in the other. Now, I have always had a soft spot for senior citizens. I have respected the way the orient, Latino, African American and other cultures revere their elders and believed that many other of us in the civilized world could take a lesson from them. And, I have on more than a few occasions, offered a ride to a senior when I saw them struggling with groceries; particularly in the cold. As a rule, they are always so appreciative and gracious.

In this case the response was a bit different. I pulled over to the gentleman and offered him a ride. His cane that looked so old I was surprised it was holding him up began to wave at the car. He was literally bent in half while walking. The old man looked at me through my opened passenger window, pointed his cane at me and said with a snarl – “Move along”!

It was a pretty busy street, and I was blocking traffic, and while his response caught me off guard; I did just that. I was shopping for about an hour and a half and began to head home. Much to my shock, I saw this same old man on the other side of the street about six blocks further than where I had left him. By now the weather had turned into a veritable blizzard and I just continued to drive on. I could barely see out of my window as I thought how difficult it must be for this old buzzard to keep moving forward – so I turned around and pulled up beside him and again offered him a ride. This time, he looked at me and said – “what the hell took you so long?”, and he got into the car. I laughed so hard I almost choked – and there was plenty of time to laugh as it took him about ten minutes to maneuvre himself into my car with his disability. All the while he was screaming obscenities at the cars honking at my car disrupting traffic on the street. He was an icicle.

As it turned out he only had the three more blocks to go, but on the way, we talked as his upper body rested, strangely naturally on his lap. I asked him why he didn’t take my ride on the first attempt and he barked out that he likes to do things on his own. He explained that he had been doing it for 91 years and he was going to keep on doing it just as long as he could. He said that the only reason he accepted my ride this time is that he took pity on me. He called me a crazy teenager that must have a guilt complex for old codgers and since it was Christmas he would appease me. I don’t remember much else of the conversation during the short trip, but I remember my heart going out to him and feeling kind of warm inside.

Needless to say, we laughed; err, well I laughed, and when I dropped him in front of his apartment and asked if I could help him up with the bags, he turned to me, slouched in half; and with a sly grin said, “what the hell do you think:”? I began to get out of the car to assist and he yelled, “some people are just thick! Goodbye and your welcome.”

With that he slowly trundled off toward his building. As I drove home I thought of the dignity that this old man was holding on too ever so tightly. I admired him and the way he treated me. I know he was grateful for the ride and he knew I knew. I also know he wished he didn’t need it. So did I. That old bastard was a gem.