Thursday, October 19, 2006

Broken friendships

I thought I would start this blog with a series on friendships that I had lost. Hoping for closure. And it did help writing about Mahmoud. (Though I didn't explain why I called him Dr. Mah. He didn't really believe in himself that he would get his degree and so it was a kind of funny/ faith thing, that I always called him Dr. Mah believing he could do it. He had just started working on his doctorate when he died)

Thursdays I work at home and I was feeling tired, so I went to lie down for a few moments and I had some old memories come back, thus another entry. I think as we go through life, it is inevitable that friendships will end as you grow differently, your friendships will grow with you. Ones that are no longer beneficial are left behind. However, some friendships are broken prematurely be it by death, or stupid stuff. And while I have let them go, I don't think I've ever done anything to get closure.

This next one I do have some closure on, but anyway.
This would have been 1992. I had a friend named Candace who went to my Church. She lived in Odessa and I'd go out to her house sometimes and hang out with her. I wasn't terribly close to her, but we were the only 2 girls about the same age in the Church. As time went on, I got closer to Kim and Janice who were about 10 years older, but we were better fits for our personalities.
Anyway, that's the background for the story.
In 1994 Candace moved to Toronto and her mom and dad split up. Her dad, Glen stayed at the Church but the mom left. Our Church was pretty small and pretty close. We did lots of stuff together but a lot of them lived in far flung locations like Deseronto, etc. and the Church was on Gardiners road, so there was a lot of driving involved. I didn't have a car at that time, so I needed rides to these gatherings. Most of the time Janice drove me as she lived close by me, but she's a nurse and she worked some odd shifts so sometimes she couldn't drive me. Glen and I were doing the tape ministry together. And he needed to get out of the house a lot, so sometimes he would drive me. We went to a bbq at Jon & Lindas in Deseronto and we went to something in Picton. I was conscious of the pain he was in and I tried to be a good friend. He took me to his work and introduced me to his coworkers. But I really didn't think anything of this, because I was his daughters age, really. It seriously never crossed my mind that he would think anything other than friendship. Seriously. But then. And my mind goes blank here. Either he told me he had feelings for me, or someone else did. I don't remember. Just the shock. I was completely blindsided. How could I not have seen this?
But the kicker is this. Our Pastor, from the pulpit, openly blamed me for everything because he apparently had been counselling Glen and this was how he saw it. Can you imagine my jaw on the floor? I felt terrible. I avoided Glen like the plague. Difficult in a small Church, but possible. It was the worst feeling that your Pastor had so little faith in you.
I could have stopped going to the Church, but I never considered it.
Not one person from the congregation ever spoke to me about it, now that I look back on it. Though I did talk about it with Kim. Not exactly the sort of thing you can bring up in casual conversation anyway.
I think Glen stopped going to the Church in 1996 and I didn't see him again until 2003 or 2004, when Myron, James and I ran into him with his second wife in Harvey's. She seemed to be such a nice lady and I liked her instantly. I was happy for him. She was also more age appropriate!

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Remembering Dr. Mah

Mahmoud was my office mate years ago. He was killed in a car accident Dec 27, 1999.
He was a sweet soul and we got on well. He was so easy going and so easy to talk to. I still miss him.
He told me about his brother who was gay. And how his parents were so upset. About his sweet sister, whom he loved so much. About his crush on K., who then also turned out to be gay. About how he interested in spiritual things. About his fasts. About the mouse he caught in his house on sticky paper and drove him out Division st. and let him go in the forest. How he connected with the mouse. How when it was raining and he drove through a big puddle and splashed a girl, he stopped the car, got out and apologized to her. How he got along with his housemate. How he moved out and moved into a very cheap apt. on Colbourne. How gross that apt. was. How he got his masters and then found out his major equation was wrong and had to spend ages in corrections. How he was going to go to London, England and then Israel for new years to see in the year 2000. He had the tickets. He was going to go with a friend. He was so looking forward to it.
Then black ice on his way back from Montreal. A tractor trailer. And no time to say good bye.

Saturday, October 07, 2006

The hollow men

T. S. Eliot (1925)

I

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

II

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer --

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom

III

This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.

IV

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.

V

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow

Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.