grieving on the 29

“querida…querida…querida…i love you so much querida”

she walked onto the bus alone and i knew.

for the past few years (time is a bit of a vacuum in parkdale), i’ve been seeing a lovely couple on the 29 bus. they travel to dufferin mall because the husband has to go to dialysis. the wife is round and bubbly, the consummate caregiver, ever ecstatic to see me. the feeling is mutual.

yesterday, i saw her for the first time in a long time, and her whole aura was different.

“my husband, he die.”

she sat in the seat in front of me, also a change, as they would always take the first blue seats and wave furiously at me, grabbing me for a kiss on the way out, even when the bus was way too crowded. i’ve spoken with bus drivers before about her-she’s everyone’s favourite.

yesterday, i saw what crying looks like when there are no tears left.

yesterday, i cried the tears that had dried up in her ducts.

i am crying as i write this right now.

yesterday, i saw what grieving the loss of the love your life looks like.

“querida…jesu…querida…jesu…querida…”

we held hands on an unseasonably warm november afternoon, crying and expressing our love for each other. i didn’t understand all of the words that she was saying, i never do, but i think we got the important ones.

just like i cannot imagine what it would be like to grieve parents that one loves, i cannot imagine what it would be like to lose a lifelong love, never knowing that kind of love.

increasingly, i’m not convinced that that is necessarily a bad thing.

i wish all of the healing and peace and sanctuary to this woman.

i thank her for the remainder that i still have tears to hold and shed, and we all still have work to do.

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lost articles and thangs

“there’s your story for the day-go write the ending”

i was just complaining the other day about how tired i am because of all the fun that i’m having-i know, right? tough life.

i probably worry a bit more than most about alzheimer’s (shit, i already think i’m going through menopause), and i’m sure that the things i attribute to a deteriorating mind are just due to being tired.

but for everything lost, there is something to be found.

on friday, i left my limited edition brimz raptors toque on the 29 bus, and today, after the recommended time lapse, i went into the lost articles office at bay station to try to claim it.

the office was like walking into a time warp, and a cramped and somewhat convoluted collection of windows and glass. it was surprising and fascinating. they did not have my hat, but there were a few charming gentleman who had stories (i’m sure) of working there, and they were willing to share them to varying degrees.

one, who invited me to come back anytime (i bet he doesn’t expect me to take him up on this offer), shared this story with me:

“one day, during the pan-am games, this guy comes in and slides an id on the counter and walks away. it was strange because people usually want congratulations or something for turning something in, but he just left. the id smelled like vinegar (which meant it was wiped of fingerprints). it turns out that the woman, good-looking and in her 30s, was a missing person in texas. we turned it into the police and never heard anything else about it.”

(sigh). just another example of how we don’t ask questions enough questions about women who go missing, literally or literally.

cafes lately: jimmy’s (portland), jimmy’s (kensington), reunion island, balzac’s (liberty village)
libraries lately: jane/dundas, annette street
restos lately: guu bathurst (or whatever the cuff it’s called lately), cut the cheese, millie’s creperie
other people’s netflix lately: love-i still have mixed feelings about this one, i hate when a show is so good but the lead characters are such horrible people. i admit that we held on and finished this season just to see if one of them would die
music lately: march has been a tidal wave that rihanna and pablo slay (all day)
live show lately: this is that (sketchfest)
jersey seen: and in this case, bought and wearing today-sue bird’s