It is winter. The first real storm of the season here on the east coast of Newfoundland came this month had me shifting into winter mode. You know it gets harder every year. We live in a country setting outside of St. John’s. My wife and I raised our boys here. It was great for the boys. They know the woods, the trees, and the winds. They all understand snowblowers and chainsaws. They learned early.

For me it is getting more difficult. My doctor says I can’t go up on the roof anymore to haul down big snow overhangs that form on the back of the house. That happens when snow is blown by winds that ride straight up through the valley. I also don’t do much in the way of snowblower repairs either these days. I call “the guy” now for snowblower and lawn mower work. I also have a couple of kind neighbors. One plowed the front of my house this week with a big industrial machine the size of a truck. It blew snow a quarter mile up in the air. The other neighbour blew out the snow on our walkway all the way up to the front door of our home. He also said he had some moose sausages for me. It is good when you are near 80 to have good neighbours.

There is part of me that wanted to tell both of my “rescuers” that I really didn’t need help and that my snowblower was working fine. I resisted the temptation because getting the work in front of the house could have taken me all day. I still had the back roof on the low side of the house to do but one of my boys came to the rescue. The snow piles up there into huge piles and the pitch of the roof isn’t steep enough for it to fall off all the time. I used a long snow rake for part of it. Now my son isn’t telepathic. I called him and he agreed to help me. I promised him it would be about a 10-minute job, but I was lying through my teeth. We got it done. As he shovelled the roof off, I used my blower to get the snow he threw down off the back deck and out into the woods.

Finally, it was done, and the lessons of a winter day were learned. You know there was a time when I could crawl around the roof of my home to clear snow away like I was one of The Flying Wallendas circus acrobatic team. My doctor told me to stop climbing immediately. The same doctor, who never played hockey in his life, told about a decade ago that it was time for me to give up the game of hockey. He said there was a big difference between breaking an ankle in hockey when you are 20 than when you are 75.

He said, with the wisdom of Solomon, “You can beat anyone in sports except The Timekeeper.” Thank you, doctor.

I was humbled in a gentle way by the events of this past weekend because I accepted help with chores that I had always done for myself. The upside of the thing is I didn’t have to do the work. I am retired from hockey and retired at age 78 from being up on the roof of my home.

You can contact Jim Furlong at [email protected]