Hero’s amongst us.

This is not a yoga or MS story but I feel like I needed to tell it. I’m starting to feel narcissistic writing stories about myself all the time.

My daughter was in my head when I woke up this morning. In March last year I was on a cruise ship in the Caribbean with my wife and a couple of friends – of all places to be at the beginning of a pandemic. In short we made it home and quarantined for 14 days. The very next day, April 1st, I got in my car, got on the ferry, and went to Vancouver to pick up my granddaughter who had just turned eight years old. She was going to stay with us for a while and we were not sure for how long.

It was a surrealistic scene as I pulled up to get my granddaughter as my daughter and granddaughter were on the sidewalk waiting with all her belongings and her bike. I loaded everything up and left within ten minutes and I kept my distance from my daughter and we returned to Victoria where we quarantined again.

The mother of that granddaughter is a single mom and a Nurse. One of my six kids, four of whom are daughters. All my kids are grown adults and lead successful very different lives. I have kids in Montreal, Toronto, Winnipeg, Vancouver, and Victoria. They all have managed to adjust and make their way through this mess. For one, that meant shutting down her business, another having her first child celebrating through zoom, and the three others were able to continue working. They all have had challenges – I am proud of all my kids.

My daughter, the Nurse, works on the East Side of Vancouver. East Hastings to be exact and if you know the area, you know how bad that area is. It’s compounded by homelessness, addiction, mental health struggles, and poverty. The first time I drove through East Hastings I was shocked as it looks like a third world war zone occupied by zombies and that is being kind. This is where my daughter has wanted to work for a long time – it’s always been a goal of hers.

Working on the East Side is hard enough with a five year opioid epidemic but when the pandemic hit this closed the border which cut off the drug supply. If you are struggling with substance use and your supply runs dry it is going to get dangerous. She’s working in an area that is now more dangerous than ever. Ripe for crime, and conducive to the spread of covid and the uncertainty of mental health all compound for a very dangerous place to be.

In the beginning she did not have proper protection having to improvise to stay safe. All the while she is alone as her daughter is staying with us to protect her from her. The many things she has to do like outreach, covid hotels, and the stress of milking every last drop of vaccine while doing inoculations. This type of pressure or continued stress has been going on for a year now and one can only assume what kind of damage / burnout this is doing to her and her co-workers. Lots of this work was done without proper protections but recently she received her second poke and is now inoculated. She said it felt like she won the lottery.

In Vancouver, as in many cities at the 7:00pm hospital shift change; people would bang pots and pans and honk horns to honour all the front line workers. I live on a cul de sac (dead end street) with 15 houses. There is not much happening to honour the shift change on my street so my granddaughter asks if she can go on the deck at seven and bang a pot lid – sure. Still not much happening on the street so the next day she goes out to the sidewalk and bangs a pot lid. Still not much…

The next day at seven she decides to bang the pot lid and run to the beginning of the street cross over and run down the other side to the end and back around to our house all the while banging the pot lid. More people are beginning to notice. It gets to the point where every person on the street comes out at seven to bang pots, honk horns, and cheer as she runs past. She does this for months until her mom can come and get her to go back home.

About a week before she stops she makes cards to inform each person that she will stop the pot banging. As she runs around she hands the cards out letting them know she will soon stop – she’s going to be heading home.

The outpouring from my neighbour’s was unbelievable. She had touched a nerve and made friends with every single person on the street. People came to my door and told my wife and I stories of feeling alone and she had connected them back to humanity. There were other stories and gifts and even a bird feeder that a neighbour made for her. It was so awesome.

I’m very proud of my daughter and the kid she has raised they are both hero’s in my book and the future will be lucky to know them both.

Be safe.