Canada Day was never the same

It was after 8pm. The phone rang. From the other room I could hear him pick up, say “hello,” and then a long silence.

I paused the movie I was watching and went into the bedroom. He was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, the phone still at his ear, saying “what? what do you mean?”

Mo was dead.

She had died in a head-on collision the day before, July 1, 2010. The death was instantaneous – the driver's seat of the car she was in with 3 others flew back upon impact and crushed her core.

She had been heading back from miltary training, was on her way to meet her long-time partner at the hotel. He was waiting – she never showed up.

It was a terrible night. There was alcohol, there were tears, there was shock and sadness and grief and regret and guilt. We had all lost touch to some degree. Although we still spoke sporadically the relationships had become diluted with time and distance.

The next few days were mostly just sad. Life continued on, as it does, but with a cloud of grief. An informal get together of Mo's friends, all of us sitting around a table, in shock, telling stories of times spent with her.

Then the funeral. All of us together for this incredibly sad day. I remember wishing that a happy event could have been the catalyst to bring us all together again. Not the death of a friend, this wasn't supposed to happen so soon. Despite my grief, the moment when I saw her partner unable to stand, so consumed with grief, my heart shattered for him.

Mo's death became a reminder that life is fleeting and friendships are important. It was a reminder that every once in awhile, despite time and distance, it's important to tell those you care about that you love them. That even if you have grown apart you still think about them, will be there for them.

– image: trekearth.com



Dining With the Dead

Yesterday evening Mr. Dreads asked me this: if I could have dinner with any 5 people in the world, dead or alive,who would I choose?

My list was as follows (in order of what I told Mr. Dreads):

1. My grandfather (because I never met him and I'd like to know what his life was like, what the war was like, who my great-grandparents are and all that fun stuff)

2. Hitler (I'd like to know what his problem was)

3. My great-aunt Maureen (she died of cancer before I could meet her and apparently myself and my aunt are her exact clones)

4. Gaddafi (I want to know whether that skull room of his was real and WHY exactly?)

5. Anthony Smith (the murdered kid who was in the infamous photo with mayor Rob Ford – I just want to know whether Ford ever smoked or bought crack)

According to Mr. Dreads, my list shows that I am more or less satisfied with my life because I chose people for interest's sake only, and not for any kind of monetary (or other) gain.

He also concluded that since everyone on my list is dead I am a morbid person who likes morbid things. Actually, he insists he already knew this but my list just confirmed it for him.