To Thean. A Birthday Tribute.

I got a phone call from a friend who said that a friend of his had just moved to Toronto and asked if I would reach out. First I stalked his Facebook profile. Then I sent him a message. We met at a restaurant downtown for dinner and we realized that we actually did know each other from South Africa. We worked out at the same gym, though never spoke and he had apparently spent a night at our house, but not with me or Keith......

Thean is a happy guy. Often he messages me about something that he is excited about, be it a new car or a technological invention or a funky pizza place. He has a constant level of enthusiasm that amazes me. He's a glass half full. 

Because we both work from home, and he's always been close by, he has always been available for a coffee break and a quick stroll around the block with the dogs. Tyson, my Boxer, adores him and leaps up to say hi when Thean approaches from the West. 

I long gave up my partying days but every few months he convinces me to get out and get down. On those nights we dance, and scream, and throw back the polar bear shots and stumble home at some ungodly hour. On others we take in a midnight movie and stop for pita on the way home because they boys behind the counter are really cute.

We see things the same, and we see them differently but we have never clashed. He's always jetting off to some exotic location, but don't expect me to travel with him, he has the worst luck! To friendship, to enthusiasm, to a glass half full.

Veels geluk met jou verjaarsdag maaitjie!

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When a book touches you deeply, you stop

I have always been an avid reader. When I was a kid I used to spend a Saturday afternoon lying on the couch reading, and eating chips. I would take at least 4 or 5 books with me on any holiday. I vehemently resisted the transition to eBooks because I love the feel of paper, the weight of the book, dog-ears and coffee stains. I have re-read my favorite books so many times, and will continue to do so even though I know the stories well. 

Over the past few years I have struggled to sink my teeth into a really good book. For some reason I dislike anything that is recommended. I've started so many books and just left them because they didn't grab me. I think I have Reader's Block.

Until Sunday 6 March when I received a text message from my friend Jen. It went like this:
"I'm reading the best worst book of my life. So well written but so devastatingly sad."
"What's it called?"
"It's called..."
(I am not going to disclose that because I have recommended this book to some friends, because this blog is about one aspect of this book, and because I don't want to give the plot away. If you are one of those friends, stop reading now! Come back when you've finished the book.)

"I was up reading until 4:30am. I slept for 2 hrs, got up and read again. And then hit such a devastatingly sad part that I went back to sleep to cope with what I'd just read."

Tuesday 15 March
"I started the book. Struggling to follow whose who! But slowly reading."
"Be patient. It will all crystallize about 150 pages in."

Thursday 7 April
"OMG that book.....it's blog inspiring."
"What part are you at?"
"I'm almost done. But I feel like I should read it again"
"I could never read it again. Too heart breaking. And haunting. For a while I regretted reading it".
"It is. It's really upset me"


Thursday 14 April
"I finished the book. I'm devastated."

I was devastated because it was finished. I was devastated because I could feel the book, the story it told. It is truly one of the most spectacular books I have read in a long time. And as Jen said, it's one of the most devastatingly haunting ones too.

There were many parts that touched me. One aspect that the story deals with is suicide. I have one friend that managed to evade it, I have two that succumbed. And if the book weren't enough of a memory, last week I spoke to a friend who was on the phone with someone that had taken an overdose and kept her on the phone while calling 911 and waiting for help to arrive. 

I have never understood suicide. It is not something I believe I would ever consider. I have experienced depression and lived with a bipolar, borderline mother that threatened often but never followed through. I have thought it to be a cowardly act, and a brave one. I remember being told by my friend that evaded it that unless you can truly understand the welcoming solution that it offers during your darkest moment, you can never understand it. Google "suicide trance" and you may be offered some insight. In the book, one of the characters describes this trance and says "Once he had decided, he was fascinated by his own hopefulness, by how he could have saved himself years of sorrow by just ending it - he could have been his own savior. No law said he had to keep on living; his life was still his own to do with what he pleased. How had he not realized this in all these years? The choice now seemed obvious; the only question was why it had taken him so long." 

Of my two friends that succeeded in their attempts, one was likely a mistake. But it didn't make the loss any less traumatic. I happened to text him one night from a hotel room in Cape Town because I needed him to do something for me. His son responded to let me know that he had passed away. A friend confirmed what we suspected. We will never know the truth. I think of him often.

The second tried twice. The first time he threatened, and his wife called me to try to talk him down. I had just landed in Vancouver on a visit from South Africa to attend a wedding. I stood in line waiting for the customs officer to call me and told my friend to think of one thing; his children. I reminded him about what it felt like to not have my dad around. I knew why he wanted to do this, I could see the other side of the challenge. I knew he could survive it. But he didn't. And when his wife called me a few weeks later and I saw her number come up I knew he never would.

I am still sad today that they are gone. I don't think of them always, but I think of them often enough. I stand firm in my belief that there is more to life than this, that they are somewhere, doing something. That it makes sense. To me, it doesn't. Because it feels like they have missed out on so much. Maybe they haven't. It reminds me that time is short and unpredictable. It reminds me to stay present. To let go. To live and to enjoy.

I remember them. They touched my life. So did the book. It made me stop for a moment. It made me remember. This is for Ian and Nick. May it be peaceful, wherever you both are. 

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#To #Petra. #A #Birthday #Tribute.

We were sitting outside on the porch enjoying the sun when this little girl, not more than 17 or so, skipped past us. She was holding a tiny puppy in her arms and I shouted out for her to come over so that I could see the dog. The girl was Petra, the dog was Ruby. A friendship slowly started. I work from home and there would be days that I would walk past the front door, that was always open in the summer, to find Petra and Ruby sitting outside on our step. Waiting for someone to appear. One night I opened the door to find a jar sitting there with the words "Eat me" on a post-it note. I wasn't sure if someone wanted me dead or not; turns out Petra was trying to feed us.

She's been stalking us ever since.

Petra enjoys the things that we love most, our dogs, good food (boy can she eat) and wine, and travel. And we have experienced all three with her over the past almost-decade. We have tried out amazing restaurants together, spent days at the park or the beach and visited Costa Rica, Chicago, Mexico and South Africa together. 

I have survived her laugh, falling asleep at the dinner table and her driving. We have laughed, a lot. She's a friend, she's beautiful, stylish and she always smiles. 

Happy Birthday Petra

(I'm not wearing a tie. Tsst.)

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