He seemed a bit reticent when we first sat down, but he bought coffee for the two of us at The Lighthouse Café and we began to talk.

I already knew that Jim Ferrier’s family was the seventh generation on his Scotch Line Farm; if his grandchildren carry on, they will be the ninth.

The farm isn’t large by today’s thinking — 300 acres total. It’s hard to know, he says, “if anyone past this generation will actually farm because — in the grand scheme — that’s not really enough to support a family.”

But, musing a bit, he suggests the possibility that his family farm might possibly become part of a bigger operation.”

Jim’s married, has been for 44 years. He has three children, he comes from a line of long-lifers, says “longevity is good” with a grin, adding that “this life is just a glimpse, anyway, whether you live 40 years or 100…”

He says this a bit matter-of-factly now, because three years ago he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease.

Looking back, he remembers a few other indications of what was to come: he lost his sense of smell in about 2014 — “that’s often seen as an early sign,” he says, adding “I’ve always had some degree of tremor,” but was told it might be essential tremor brought on by exercise. Jim is a runner.

He remembers very clearly, though, that even in his 40s when he was the first one at the hockey arena, he had trembles and trouble fitting the key into the lock. There were a few other “neurological episodes,” but nothing showed up… “and this is going back 30 years.”

That long ago? “I think so. I think the physiology was starting then.”

Thinking even further back, he remembers there was always some degree of tremor. “It was kind of destined,” he adds. “My mom was diagnosed with Parkinson’s.”

Still, when his doctor told him, he wasn’t convinced. “But the first day he saw me, he asked me to walk and diagnosed me immediately.”

Today, three years in, how does this affect him? He admits that fine motor activities, like putting a screw in, “are getting harder to do, but basically I still do everything I want to do.”

And that’s a lot.

Jim thinks positively about making his life as good as it can be. “I’m more focussed on relationships,” he notes, “especially with my grandchildren.” He spends lots of time with them. “I want to do all I can for my family. That keeps you passionate.”

He has a strong faith in Jesus Christ. “I believe He’s who He said He was — and to me that gives me a whole different perspective. “This life is just a small part of what’s to come — and it’s only going to get better. I believe that.”

Jim also boxes with the Boxing Ties group in Smiths Falls, having seen a poster in his neurologist’s office. A gerontologist friend told him there’s a link between slowing the progression of the disease and boxing movements, so he decided to give it a try.

He still runs — has done so since high school at PDCI — he ran the Glen Tay Block Race when he was 50, and then again at 60, and decided to do it a few more times before he turns 70. He’s 68 now.

And now, coming up to the end of his seventh decade and having to navigate the ongoing work of Parkinson’s, I ask him what’s he learned.

He grins. He’s not sure he’s learned it yet… but it’s happening — patience.

Jim worked as a veterinarian for 15 years, farmed for 15 years, worked for the Canadian Food Inspection Agency for 15 years, retired in 2020, and now has time to reflect.

Each third of that time gave him a different perspective, he says. “I learned a lot everywhere. I have no regrets,” he says, and admits that he does try to pass his learning on here and there.

As for patience?

“I like to think I got a lot better.”

He adds, with a quick laugh, “I’d never say I’ve achieved 100 percent patience… but I think there have been big gains.”