Our Elders...

My grandpa lived a couple hours from my home, more interior BC. In a little home with a beautiful garden that was both large and peaceful. He spent many hours a day in it, tending to his vegetables and flowers. I don't know if I can remember him any happier than when he was showing us around his garden, wearing the Tilley hat that my mom had bought him.

I think his little home and beautiful garden was his little piece of Heaven on Earth. He felt most comfortable and at peace surrounded by that which he had created. Not disturbed unless by the seemingly endless stream of hummingbirds and bears that flocked to his doorstep, no doubt to enjoy the garden as well. He also had his family and friends dropping by to indulge in the gossip of news and to enjoy a cup of coffee.

My grandpa had his world and though we worried about him being on his own as he aged, he seemed happy and content. And, he was lucky in many respects, he had a large family that loved him (he always liked to be visited and telephoned) and a little piece of property on the reserve to call his own. Not to say that he led a charmed life, he had his share of difficulties and burdens to carry.

But others, our elders, on the reserve. Sometimes their situations aren't the greatest and some don't have family or family that don't visit, which is worse. They are occasionally preyed on by those in equally dire, but different circumstances. Bullied and pressured for money, they are like a lot of the older generation that are sometimes pushed aside and forgotten because their information is worn out and theirs is a time that's past.

The reason that I write this is because a very sweet old man, that used to come over to my grandpa's house and tell all the reserve news is dead. Worse than this is that foul play is suspected and another man has been arrested in connection to his death. I think one of the reasons his death affects me is that like me he suffered from a disability. I know even in part, what he had to deal with not only the physical barriers, but of society's stigma.

John* was always referred to with a smile and known by all. He was an old man who lived simply, except he liked to have a new car. He would drive around the reserve very slowly, blaring his pow wow music. And, EVERYONE knew that it was John driving by.

I don't know why this happened, I don't know of anyone that had anything against him. I just hope it wasn't anything to do with taking an old man's few pence. I do know this though, his was a difficult life, he was lovingly referred to and he always smiled at me.



* Name has been changed.