Almost two years ago, in July, we were visiting Hubby's sister in Cleveland, Ohio. One friend in Port Hope was due for major surgery and I asked if perhaps we could make a quick "side trip" up to Canada. Twenty years ago, a drive from Cleveland to Toronto seemed short. Now, everything is a little longer, a little harder.
We agreed we could do that and I booked a hotel in Stoney Creek (near Hamilton, Ontario) and another in Port Hope, each for one night.
When I realized that we would be driving through Toronto on Highway 401 at just about lunchtime, I asked Keith what he thought about asking Belinda & D'Arcy to meet us for lunch. He did not think too much of the idea. I guess he thought it was a little presumptuous of me to think that you could have a little visit with someone as you were driving through. I felt differently because I have known those folks since I was 19.
Well, "B" didn't mind one bit and we made arrangements for the four of us to meet at the Pickle Barrel Restaurant on Leslie, a little north of the 401. (One time, a few years ago, their hostess told us about a woman taking a cab from Pearson International direct to their restaurant. It's a pretty good one!)
We had a beautiful visit - that's Belinda and me in the photo. Our hubbies have also become friends over the years, so everyone had a fine time. It was a bright and sunny day and although I'm not sure, I probably had a corned beef on rye. Belinda had a sack for me with a jug of Canadian maple syrup and we giggled and chatted and just had a good time.
Belinda liked for me to recall my Canadian roots and once sent down a video set of a National Film Board presentation from CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation). As I am a naturalized American, "B" was a naturalized Canadian. I think she had come from Baton Rouge when I first knew her. She never truly lost her accent, just as I will never really lose mine.
So, my old friend and I had a wonderful visit! We all hugged and we were back on the road to Port Hope.
In late September, after a wonderful and happy Clint Black concert right here at the Temple Theater at Angelina College, back home, I checked my e-mail.
There it was: A MESSAGE FROM BELINDA'S FAMILY THAT SHE HAD HAD A STROKE EARLIER IN THE WEEK.
So, I was sitting right where I am now, and I was crying and yelling and extremely upset. That's what people do when they receive that sort of news.
The prognosis was not good. Then, as they began testing, they found cancer. So it went from worse to the unthinkable.
Belinda's family were terrific about keeping in touch. I sent notes and photos and whatever I thought she might react to. I sent paper sunflowers . . . We do what we think might evoke a response. We do what we think will help people know they are in our minds because we cannot be there to hold their hand. We do what we can, but it is never enough.
I did not tell this in my book and this is the first time I have written about my "old friend", as her husband still calls me. (That tells me that Belinda referred to me as her old friend and I am glad for that.)
She died at the beginning of the next year - at home. She left an enormous legacy of kind deeds. There are not too many people you can say that about! She rescued dogs and even a horse that she boarded in midtown Toronto. She went to see anyone and everyone who was sick. She read the Bible and was a great believer . . . especially she loved angels. Of course, SHE was the angel! She worried about everybody else. She had a quirky sense of humor. She was a fabulous friend! She was a person who "always showed up".
So, you are starting to get the point. When I go back and you follow me back, there are people who will not be there.
One other person who will not be there, is my cousin, Ruth. She was about 20 years older than Belinda, but that isn't quite the point.
The point is that when you move away from somewhere you have lived most of your life, you miss all the events and suddenly, things have changed.
One day, we will drive by and the house I lived in by Thornhill Pond (just around the corner from Anne Murray, by the way) will be gone. It will be gone just because the land is worth more than the structure and 50s bungalows (one-storey homes) are no longer popular.
I think the houses I lived in when I was a kid will always be there in my time. They were both two-storey traditional homes on corner lots and have been well maintained. But houses are just structures and friends are indispensable.
We will have dinner with Ruth's son and daughter-in-law and their family. Her granddaughter is one of my friends on Facebook. She's in college at Ottawa. (When did she get so old . . . ?)
And, yes, we will have dinner at Belinda's daughter's home. You'll hear more about that from Toronto!
So, I'm hoping you will come away thinking about how important it is that we keep up with friends and relatives. When we have a chance to see someone - to break bread with them - we should do it!
As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone. - Psalm 103: 15, 16.
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