My pal Joey

Fule for Thought

 

Growing up in Canmore in the 60s and 70s was amazing. Dogs needed no licenses, you could hike, or ride trail bikes on old mine roads, and life was pretty simple. The town had three basic areas. The Bow River flowed through town, and helped name these areas. If you lived on the far side of the river, you were in “Mineside”, on the near side, and you were in “Townside” (I know what you’re thinking … we were a simple people back then).  Mineside also had houses on a hill that led to the only hospital in town. Can you guess what that area was called? It may sound a little like Sesame Street, but yeah, that area was “Hospital Hill!”

When you were a kid in Canmore, to prove you were brave, you had to coast your bike from the very top of the hill at breakneak speed to the bottom without using your brakes. Many Canmore kids “bought it” at the bottom of that hill and had major wipe-outs on their new Mustang-style bikes (Remember those?).

My pal Joey was a Mineside kid who just happened to live on Hospital Hill. He was a big kid, and he used to tell me he dreaded shopping for clothes with his mom. Like many other mine kids, they shopped at the Northill Sears, as it was the closest mall to the West side of Calgary. Joey’s mom always took him there, and he hated having to shop in the “husky” section. He said, “everyone knew I had to shop there, and we ALWAYS ran into kids I knew.”

Joey got teased a lot because of his size and because he had a stutter when he was nervous. Kids picked on him, and the trap was, that would make him nervous, which would make him stutter, which would lead to more teasing, and so on. 

I always tried to be the mediator with the other kids who would pick on him. I never really know why, but for the most part, I was left alone. One day Joey was trying to ride his bike down Hospital Hill so he wouldn’t be late for school. Well you know what happens to the best laid plans!? He was rocketing down the hill and began to lose control of the bike. Sure enough, he hit a neighbour’s parked camper! He crumpled against the camper’s side, and somehow a handlebar went right through the guy’s side window! The neighbour yelled at Joey, and Joey tried to explain he was sorry via stuttering … but that didn’t work. Eventually, he pushed his twisted bike to school, only to meet our grouchy Grade 6 teacher. Again, he tried to explain, but the stuttering was too much. You’d think that seeing a kid with a mangled bike, torn jeans, and scrapes, would be a hint to the teacher that something BAD happened to the kid. Anyway, for Joey’s efforts to make it to school on time, he got a DT for being late!

And THAT’s how school went for Joey. He’d struggle in school and with bullies, and try to survive the high school years. He eventually became a locksmith in Canmore, and now lives in the family house. He lives there because his dad has died and his mom was ill with Parkinson’s and Dementia. For the last seven years, Joey has visited his mom in Extended Care, and has helped dress, feed, and even change her! Every day he visited her without fail. On nice days he would push her in a wheelchair to get an ice cream cone, and he’d even spoon feed her, just to see her smile. The child had become the parent to the mother. He always talked to her, even when he knew deep down, that she didn’t know what he was saying anymore. He made sure she was comfortable, had enough covers to stay warm in her room, and that she might know that SOMEONE was there. Joey’s mom died last month, and he just missed being with her when she passed. This guy, who was tormented by others, could have become bitter and miserable. Instead, he kept on going, trying to become someone who made something of himself, so his parents could have been proud. Well, you can have a rest now, Joey. You did what a good son should do, you cared for a mom who once cared for you. You put major parts of your life on hold so that she would always have someone nearby who loved her. You’ve taught me a lot about loyalty and sacrifice, and I know your parents are proud of you.

(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that appears in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)