In Memory

There are just too many to choose from -- topics I mean. 'Cruise'n for a Bruise'n'-- a rant and 'what the fuck' about the seeming need to seek and base opinions on an authority...any authority...even Tom freaken Cruise, 'Hot Hot Humidity' -- today has been hot...and humid...need I say more?, 'One Lump, Two Lumps or None' -- the mother of an old friend walked in to the operating room last week and had her breasts removed...seems that mamograms do work...no sign of cancer anywhere else and she's happy and at home. When asked if she would like breast reconstruction, her response was 'no, they were never all that big to begin with' , 'My mother is coming, my mother is coming' -- the visits tend to be whirlwinds...just gotta make sure to batten down the hatches. The choice should be clear but I can't get images of Dragonflies out of my mind. Here's the scoop:

One of the images I have of a dear friend is one that I never experienced first hand. Although she only ever told me about it all I have ever needed to do is close my eyes and I am there. She had a job tree planting in Northern Ontario one summer and made friends with dragonflies. She described sitting by water as dragonflies flew around her and, sometimes landed on her knees. They kept the mosquitos and other insects at bay. The scene evoked a sense of peace and tranquility missing from newage shops with their incense and counter fountains. For the longest time, I couldn't even think about a dragonfly without that image coming to mind. Time passes, however, and images fade.

A couple of years ago my friend called me to tell me that her mother had cancer. Cancer. Brutal. This woman...who I called Mom...this woman...who introduced me to the joy of Johnny Horton...this woman...who whisked me away from the bus station so I didn't have to announce my presence in town 'just yet' to my own family, this woman who, no matter what, I felt safe with...comfortable around...myself 'unplugged.' Over the next couple years, the disease worked its way from her breasts to her lungs to her spine. My friend, an only child, learned to administer medication and needles to her own mom...pretty brave...pretty unthinkable...pretty ... well, not pretty.

When the phone call finally came indicating the end, it was with relief...that the struggle was over...that rest could come. It was also with a feeling unlike any other I had felt. I've never before had anyone really close to me die. I won't say that I was sad...that word doesn't work. It's neither complex enough nor is it elegant. I felt crushed...I felt heavy...I mourned.

A while later...I was in my back garden. Sitting with a coffee and a smoke. Trying to bring back a feeling of peace. A dragonfly came by. It landed on the fence and looked at me. I was told once that spirit animals are everywhere but, it's only when you notice them that they have a message for you. I noticed this dragon fly and was instantly brought back to a Northen Ontario tree planting camp. I was sitting beside my friend and the dragonflies, like the fairies named hope that came out from the bottom of Pandora's box, danced around us. I started to giggle and then, staring straight back into the dragonflies eyes, I said goodbye to mom, finished my coffee and went inside.