Stories from the front line .. We leave but take you with us

Everyone has a story , everyone has a right to be heard. I was lucky to meet some very wonderful and interesting people in life. I can't tell you their stories, for a few reasons. One being confidentiality, and for another I was only one small part of their story. A decade, while long is only a brief second in a lifetime. In the early 1990's until the very early 2000's I worked in adult residential and day treatment for adults with developmental disabilities (strange to have returned after another decade in children services.) I meet many interesting individuals, I was young, committed and passionate about the rights of all people, but especially committed and remain so, to individuals with developmental disabilities. All political correct language, changes, the start, the middle.. And now the home stretch of transformation of the developmental sector is all entwined in my life story, and theirs, names you will know if you stood beside me during those times. And sadly names and people you never got to meet if you did not. Here is a snap shot of my front line, the moments that altered who I became. Because I shared time and space with some fun, some frightening, some beautiful and some tragic life stories.. to you a nameless few, to me people I said good bye to , yet how I carry with me everyday. - starting my career 2 weeks after graduation from college. I jumped eagerly into the chaos of rapid expansion in toronto group homes , phase one of the transformation begun. - he was a big guy, still is so I am told. A gentle giant now. An aggressive one if change or unexpected change came his way years ago. I worked in his home and treatment day program, he had lived in an institution for over ten years before moving into the community he now resides in. He loved to cook made mean rice and peas, the best fruit salad.. And never more then encouragement was needed. He is and was loved by his family. He was the first client I worked with who knocked me out cold, picking me up by my throat and banging me off the wall. He taught me the true meaning of get back on your feet. In the second month in my new job. Over the decade that followed, he asked me to dance in the middle of the group home one day just because, he settled into a life very different then he once knew. He learned to play bocci ball, and was pretty good. - she was a handful, made me question if I had it in me to work with individuals with such intense needs.. It took time, persistence and loads of trial and error, but we started to get to know each other. Known for her love of collecting bits and pieces, we created a routine, of clearing out the bits on a regular basis, this was something she often did when she was upset and clearing it out made her upset, but we still had to do it to keep her space safe .. I received bad news at work one day, I was sitting in the back deck.. Crying. She came out making a sound she always made, words were rare but sometimes she used them.. But not on this day. She grabbed my hand, pulled me up and took me to the kitchen, handed me a garbage bag and took me to her collection /junk drawer. She dumped the whole thing in. Took me down stairs out to the back door and tossed it to the trash. She was trying to make me feel better, she did something hard for her because it always made me happy when she cleaned her room. She then went back and got the bag and made me throw it out, she clapped and smiled.. See she could tell me I did a good job. I still feel great when I purge the junk! I have hundreds of memories of this amazing lady, I learned basic German in an effort to communicate with her - I take her with me everyday. - he drove me nuts, he knew it and his mental health was a battle he fought, he appreciated getting anyone's goat He would find your button and push it, after years of this I looked at him one day and he said " I know you don't like me" I said your right, I don't.. It was not a thought out response.. But he laughed and said I was honest and that he appreciated.. I told him I had to provide him with care he needs, but that doesn't mean I had to like him. He and I had the truest and most heartfelt laugh , and he taught me a lesson I keep with me, I don't have to like someone because they have special needs, it is not what defines them.. They define who they are. It was a very freeing moment. - after years of institutional living.. A ward where no food was ever cooked but arrived by cart, he moved into the group home, eyes wide as he explored the kitchen, finding the giant peanut butter jar, within seconds he had taken a giant handful of peanut butter and was blissfully eating anyting he could get his hands on.. That day even oranges were being bit into.. He laughed and cried the entire time.. - she loved to dance, she would dream of chocolate , she told me what it was like having electro shock treatments at 13. What it was like moving at such a young age into an institution. The anger and sadness age felt. How she missed people, but never wanted to go back to jail. Her words not mine. We scoured the city for sweets she could eat, a bunch of kid ourselves learned how to treat and care for her medical needs, thank goodness we had an amazing nurse on staff. She passed away this week, one of the men above lost his battle with cancer not long ago. These people who never choose me, who never had a choice to be in my life. Taught me way more then I could ever have learned in school, on a ward or in a book. Yes I choose to work with them, I was paid to do my job, but I learned , I cared and I carry hundreds of stories of people I wish you knew.. Written on iPad, errors included