More from 'Oldest Living Blogger'

Sometimes, people treat me a lot nicer than I deserve. Like yesterday, for example. I went to the Optometry Clinic over in West Vancouver, where I've known one of the owners, Doctor Debra Rovinelli, ever since I got my first prescription glasses back in the 1980s, when she and her partner, 'Big Bad Bart' ran an Optometry business out in Squamish, about halfway between here and Whistler/Blackcomb ski area. They survived back then mostly on eye tests of the local school kids, and their waiting room was littered with toys for those kids.

Eventually, they prospered enough to be able to branch out with a couple of clinics in "the big city", and I retired from my dismal duties at the provincial electrical utility out there in the boonies, and moved back here, to where I've always considered it "home". And so I'm still going to "Dr. Deb's" for my glasses, the latest of which I really didn't need to upgrade, but did anyway, because last year was Dr. Deb's 30th Anniversary, and I thought buying an expensive new pair of glasses might help her celebrate it.

The glasses are wonderful, with a fancy and innovative frame costing $545, and with the latest progressives lenses with all the extras those can have, the total was over $1050 and that's with a 30% discount because of that 30th Anniversary. Everything was fine, until I wore them in bed watching TV one night too many, and fell asleep with them on, and woke up hours later with them underneath me in a tangle of bedding, the fancy frame broken.

Hesitantly, I called the office, and explained my stupid mistake. Jay on their
"fix-up and fittings" desk said, "Bring them in, and I'll send them to the lab - there's a one-year full replacement warranty on them." I explained "Yes, my dear, but this isn't "normal wear and tear" - I fell asleep in bed watching TV and rolled over on top of them and broke them, so it's my fault." She said, "Doesn't matter. They're still under full replacement warranty, so wear your other ones that didn't need replacing, and bring those back to me, and I'll get the frame replaced, no charge." I said, "That's very kind of you, Jay, but if the lab balks at fixing them, please tell them I'm prepared to pay for it, and not to worry." She said, "I want to send them in and see what happens, so bring them to me."

Yesterday she said, "Your glasses are back, and you can come and get them." After she'd fitted them to me, and put on larger nose pads, and adjusted everything just so, I asked, "How much do I owe you, my dear?" And she said "Absolutely nothing. You're a good customer, and we have insurance for this, so please don't worry about it." Like I said, sometimes people treat me a lot better than I deserve.

This is St. Anthony's Parish in West Vancouver, about a block and a bit east of the Optometry Clinic I go to there, and where I often have to park to get anything nearby. Two streets branch at a 'Y' right in front of it, and in the middle of that 'Y' is a small public parking lot opposite the church. On the front wall is a representation of St. Anthony, holding a cross in his right hand, and a hammer in his left - because he was known as "The Hammer of the Heretics" for his preachings against them. He was a student of St. Francis of Assisi, founder of the Order of St. Francis, the name taken by our present Pope.

St. Anthony's is one of the oldest parishes in this area, begun in the early 1920s, and it has a long and colorful history. Walking by it, I feel drawn to go in and kneel down, and beg forgiveness for abandoning the faith so many years ago. And a little voice inside me says "You don't have to come in. I'm out here too. All you have to do is ask."