Monthly Archives: March 2020

Societal Issues

My Conversation With Mildred About COVID-19

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Mildred’s mini-spaniel, Daisy.
(thehappypuppysite.com)

I was certain Mildred wouldn’t be coping well with the unrelenting barrage of news about COVID-19. At 83 she has the lined face and skimpy frame of a chronic worrier. A life long spinster, she had been our next door neighbour when we lived on the third floor of a condo in Abbotsford. I was pretty sure this morning she’d already have tied her grey hair into a bun and would be sitting before her tv, fearful the virus might slip under the entrance door. Knowing I needed to check on her, I dialed her number. As usual, Mildred answered the phone without a greeting. She just began talking, as though we were in the midst of a conversation.

“Have you heard about that thing that’s going around?” she asked. “I mean the virus. It’s killing people. I just know I’m going to get it. If there’s something going around, I always do.”

Mildred’s words immediately reminded me of Dave Gray’s thoughts concerning beliefs. In “Limminal Thinking” he said, “We construct our beliefs, mostly unconsciously, and thereafter they hold us captive. They blind us to possibilities and subject us to fog, fear and doubt.”

“If you’re following the advice of the medical authorities, you should be safe,” I suggested. “Are you washing your hands with soap under warm running water and not getting close to people?”

“Oh yes,” she replied. “I wash my hands every half hour and I’m staying inside, with my door locked. It’s just Daisy, my mini-spaniel, and me. I don’t answer the phone unless I recognize the number. I haven’t even gone down to check my mail. By now my box is probably filled with junk mail.”

This was classic Mildred, always expecting misfortune. Her parents had experienced extreme hardship in the Great Depression and they had bequeathed to her the belief that disaster was skulking about her constantly, ready to pounce. She once told me that at age 18 she had fallen in love with a young man studying to become a doctor. When he graduated they set a wedding date. Then, with the prodding of her mother, she began thinking of everything that could go wrong. She doubted she would be an adequate wife. If they had children, would she be a loving mother? Also, her fiancee had emerged from university with a debt she didn’t believe they could repay.

On the morning of the day they were to be married, apprehension overwhelmed her and she called off the wedding. “It wasn’t a wise decision,” she admitted to Linda and me one day. “I’ve been lonely all my life. Now I mostly stay in my place. Hardly anyone visits me. I guess I’m not good company.”

I had attempted before to pry loose the tentacles of fear and doubt that clung to her, never with any success. Still, I needed to try again. I knew from “Liminal Thinking” that beliefs can limit what we are able to conceive. Paraphrasing Dave Gray I said, “Mildred, believing something doesn’t make it real. Beliefs can actually create blind spots that cause us to miss good things.” Cancelling the wedding was certainly an example of this but I knew mentioning it would be painful for her.

“I’m an old woman,” she replied. “You have talked about these things before and I have thought about them.” She sighed, then said, “Maybe I’ve had too many birthdays to change.”

I sensed that Mildred’s beliefs had become her reality. Dave Gray says “it’s easy to confuse beliefs with reality. Beliefs are imperfect models for navigating a complex, unknowable reality.” This concept seemed to apply to Mildred but I decided it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to wrestle with it.

Wanting to get her mind off the virus, I suggested, “Mildred, you’ll be much happier if you turn off the news programs and read a good novel. By now Daisy must be weary of hearing politicians and doctors say we need to practise social distancing. Read her an uplifting story. You could also call some friends and have a phone visit. They’re probably as restless as you.”

“Ok,” she said, “I get your point. I’ll do something different. Maybe I’ll order in pizza for Daisy and myself.” Then, as usual, she didn’t say good-bye. There was a click and I knew the conversation was finished. I hope Daisy likes pizza.

Societal Issues

Disquieting Encounter At McDonald’s

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Book by David & Nic Sheff
(Amazon Books image)

Returning from Abbotsford to Hedley last week, Linda and I decided the weather had warmed sufficiently to buy our first ice cream cones of the season. We pulled into the McDonald’s in Hope and walked toward the restaurant. A bearded man, about age 30 and wearing a black hoodie, was sitting on the front concrete walkway. He seemed to be hiding inside the hoodie, but we were conscious he was observing us with keen interest. As we drew nearer he said, “Would you buy me some fries?” Linda has a gentle heart and immediately said “yes.” He got up and followed us inside.

He requested a “Happy Meal” and while Linda was placing the order he reached out a hand to me and said, “I’m Derek.” It was the beginning of a disquieting interaction. When Linda handed him the Happy Meal, he went to a booth by a window, seemingly having forgotten about us.

Linda felt we should sit with him. “Can we join you?” I asked. He said “sure,” then turned partially toward the window and pushed three fries into his mouth. Without our prompting he began speaking, but it was a fragmented, incomprehensible monologue. Hoping to generate a conversation, I asked if he lived in Hope. “I stayed with my uncle last night,” he responded, momentarily turning to face us. “I’m walking to Abbotsford.” He again turned partially toward the window and we once more seemed to fade from his consciousness.

Taking a bite of the burger he turned toward us again and said, “I’m a demon. You are responsible for this.” He resumed his examination of the window, apparently assuming we knew what he meant.

Derek’s jumbled, mostly unintelligible monologue greatly puzzled me. When he turned to the window he seemed unaware of our presence across the table from him. In one of his more rational moments he said he had done meth, heroin, and alcohol. Except for his mangled conversation though, there was no indication he was intoxicated. Was he under the influence of drugs? Had he caused permanent damage to his mind with substance abuse?

I scoured my memory, searching for some explanation for the seeming mayhem in Derek’s mind. I recalled that extensive research indicates that in the teen years, the brain changes more rapidly than it ever will again. Drug use can negatively impact the brain at exactly the time when it is most vulnerable.

In High: Everything you want to know about Drugs, Alcohol and Addiction, David and Nic Sheff say, “drugs offer an alternative world.” Derek’s mind certainly seemed to flit between the real present, and some other state in which he was a lonely pilgrim. The Sheffs contend that “the brain on drugs is like a highway where all the automobiles are out of control, crashing into each other.”

We listened to Derek’s mutterings for about 20 minutes, comprehending only snatches when he turned to face us. During the lengthy intervals in which he receded into a mental fog, I sensed he had, at best, a tenuous connection to the world around him The Sheffs seemed to describe him when they wrote, “young adults who used drugs in the teen years may never learn to do the stuff we normally learn as teens to navigate life. To try and fail, and try again, to have friends and a job.”

The Sheffs further state, “long term alcohol abuse can permanently damage the hippocampus, which regulates many body processes, like heart rate, hunger and thirst, breathing and much more.” They disagree with society’s growing complacency concerning marijuana. “In adolescents marijuana may affect brain structure, cognitive functioning and memory,” they say. “High doses of meth can lead to cognitive deficits, mood disturbances, violent behaviour, confusion, paranoia, delusion, stroke and heart attack.”

After Derek had eaten the burger and fries, he was ready to move on. We shook hands and I wished him well. Watching him amble away, seemingly quite purposeless, I thought of those young people in Hedley who live mostly for alcohol, marijuana, meth, cocaine and other drugs. And I wondered why we are willing to let them go down the path that seems to have impaired Derek’s mind.

Substance abuse is destroying thousands of young lives in our country. Why are we not responding to it with the same determination, vigour and resources as we are to COVID 19? Surely we can offer more to our next generation.

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Inspiration

Ivan McLelland’s Gift To His Father

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Ivan McLelland, front row, 3rd from the left.

Although I was a mere kid at the time, the Penticton Vees resounding defeat of the Soviets in the 1955 World Hockey Championship remains indelibly imprinted deep in my psyche. I didn’t know at that time where Penticton was located but I understood this was our home team. Having many times sat on the bottom stair in our home eavesdropping on my parents political conversations with friends, I was aware that the Russians were our adversary. Mostly, I was enthralled by the knowledge that our little known team had thrashed the Soviets vaunted Big Red Machine.

One former Vee has almost single handedly kept the team’s story alive. Linda and I first met Ivan McClelland 4 years ago and since then I’ve been privileged to write some, but not all, of the most memorable events that occurred before and after the victory. Today I will add an installment I’m quite certain very few readers are aware of.

When we met Ivan in the K Cafe in Keremeos last Friday, it was exactly 65 years since he stood on the blue line in Germany, waiting to receive his medal. He began our conversation with a brief sketch of his early years. “I pretty much grew up in South Porcupine, a small town in Ontario,” he said. “My father worked away a lot and mother struggled to raise the 14 children. I endured a great deal of abuse, some of it physical, from my father. He worked hard but he had a violent temper. I got in trouble and I wasn’t doing well in school. In grade 10 the principal advised me to drop out of school and find a job.”

He found employment with the local mine and joined the mine’s hockey team, the Dome Porkies. Hockey, and several mentors, played key roles in setting him on a productive path. They could not, however, mellow his father. That unhappy relationship remained on the rocks.

In 1951, at age 19, Ivan was signed by the Vancouver Canucks and was sent to play in goal for the Vees. The Vees, a newly assembled team surprised everyone by winning the Allen Cup in 1954. This qualified them to represent Canada in the World Hockey Championship the next year. Canada’s hockey moguls discounted Ivan, then only 23, as too young and inexperienced to be successful at this level. His coach stuck with him though and Ivan amazed everyone, allowing the world’s top teams a meager 6 goals in the series. It’s still a record today.

When the Vees returned to Canada, they were greeted at the Dorval Airport by excited fans, including several Montreal Canadiens hockey players. Three of Ivan’s sisters and his father were also waiting. Ivan had not seen his father in five years and wasn’t eager to see him now.

Aware of his reluctance, one sister said, “Ivan, Daddy would really like to talk with you.” Then she added, “you know he’s been a Canadiens fan most of his life. It would mean the world to him if one or two talked with him. Is that possible?”

The memories of abuse at the hands of his father were still fresh and it would be understandable if he had brushed off the request, but he didn’t. He approached Dick Irvin the Montreal coach and said, “Dick, my father is here. He’s been a Canadiens fan for years. He’s had a stroke and his speech is limited, but he’d be thrilled if one of your players talked with him.”

The coach immediately asked several players to speak with Ivan’s father. That day the old man was honoured by Jean Beliveau, Rocket Richard, Boom Boom Geoffrion and Dickie Moore, at the time 4 of Canada’s most revered hockey players.

Ivan spent 3 days in his parents’ home. On the second day his mother asked if she could invite a few friends over to meet Ivan. She wanted to show off her famous son. Ivan agreed and 30 ladies arrived.

Ivan later learned that every time his father went to have a few drinks with friends at the local pub, he talked about his famous son, and about meeting the 4 Canadiens. It was a major highlight in his old age. Now about to turn 89, Ivan McLelland still clearly recalls the decision to give his father a gift he’d treasure to the end of his days. “I’m glad I did it,” he said.

Inspiration

Gary LeComte’s Gift To Hedley

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Gary LeComte

I was puzzled when my cross town neighbour Gary LeComte posthumously treated the people of Hedley to a free hot buffet luncheon this past February. He was battling cancer and had not circulated much in the community for some time. When he made arrangements with the Seniors’ Centre to cater the meal, he likely knew he wouldn’t be there. The doctor’s prognoses had been pessimistic. Realizing he’d soon cross the line into the End Zone, why feed people, many of whom he barely knew, or didn’t know at all? It occurred to me that pondering this question might lead to a fuller understanding of how we can attain a more satisfying and fulfilling life.

I recalled Richard Paul Evans’ words in “The Walk”. It is his belief that “in all of us there is something that, for better or worse, wants the world to know we existed.” Knowing that I too hope to be remembered, especially by my family, I can readily agree.

An account in “The Wind in my Hair”, by Iranian born journalist Masih Alinejad, delves a little deeper. About to be released from prison, Alinejad was approached by a mother who had been arrested for protesting against the Iranian regime’s brutality. “Make sure the world knows about me,” she pleaded desperately. “Don’t forget about me!” She wanted to be remembered for what she had done.

Austrian psychiatrist Viktor Frankl builds on this thought with the statement that “life is not made unbearable by circumstances, but only by lack of meaning and purpose.” This is a truth many of us apparently do not understand well, and we don’t embrace it. Instead, we grasp for personal gratification.

I feel I gained an insight regarding this subject while working with young offenders. When they became discouraged and uncooperative, often one question profoundly altered their negative mindset. I first understood the power of the question when Howie didn’t want to do his shift in our organization’s kitchen. I said, “Howie, do you want to do something important with your life?” He had never considered this question before and it surprised him. As he thought about his reply, the obstinate expression mellowed and I sensed an inner shift. Finally he said, “yeah, I do.” He turned and entered the kitchen. I subsequently asked the question many times and, with only one exception, the response was always affirmative.

Over many years I’ve become convinced that individuals who selflessly serve others are more likely to have a sense of meaning and purpose, and are more likely to be remembered. My friend Dan, an elderly chicken farmer, visited Paul in Oakalla Prison weekly for almost two years. Upon Paul’s release Dan invited him to live in his home and helped him find work. In time Paul got married, had three children and developed a trucking business. Dan believed in Paul and gave him hope. Now, 30 years later, Paul still cherishes the memory of this relationship. He will never forget what Dan did for him.

Last summer Gary Lecomte gave free helicopter rides.

If we become overly immersed in our personal pursuits, we may miss opportunities to make a positive, important difference. Then, when we come to the end of our days on this earth, we may unhappily comprehend that we’ve lived a shallow, selfish, unsatisfying life. Gary didn’t want to exit the world with these thoughts. In addition to the hot luncheon, he offered free helicopter rides last summer. When I asked why he was paying approximately $2100 per hour to provide free rides, he said, “this community has been good to me. I want to give something back.”

At some time in life, all of us come to a fork in our path, even if we are not conscious of it. At this fork we are confronted with a destiny shaping decision. Will we live positively, sharing our abundance with neighbours and community? Or will we live fearfully, hoarding our reserves, not daring to share? The first fork leads to a life of meaning and purpose. The second leads to what George Wills describes as “a meaningless event in a meaningless world.”

I’ve concluded that Gary LeComte’s most significant gift to the people of Hedley is not the hot luncheon, helicopter rides, or other important acts of service to the community. It’s his spirit of giving. For me, at least, this is what will continue to warm my heart for many years.