Memorial

Funerals and memorials seem to be more common than weddings these days. I flew back to Prince George to be with my family, specifically my step family to say good bye to Dave my oldest step-brother. Dave had spent the last 18months of his life living with a terminal illness. At first there was hope and optimism but eventually it became apparent that Dave's condition wasn't going to improve, there would be no miracles here. Well perhaps that's not entirely true. I realized at his memorial that there was an ordinary miracle present. Ordinary in the sense that most of us see it or experience it at some point in our lives and nary give it a nod of recognition.  There are times in our life though where we have clearer vision. Then the importance and the magic is felt and we hope we will never forget it. The gift of death, as much as it begrudges me to say so, is one of those times.

You see at Dave's memorial, the miracle was apparent when you walked into the large banquet room for his memorial. No... before that. When you walked through the parking lot and wondered if there was a vintage car show going on. Why else would there be so many beautifully restored cars lined up like sentinels. Visual examples of someone's passion most likely the driver, someone who spent countless hours restoring junk cars to their former glory. Model T Fords with matt black paint, roadsters with the engine open for all to see. Flames on the sides of big-daddy style cars. I was struck to see them all there. I knew Dave was a car guy, that's how I would have described him. I knew that he knew alot of people from his involvement in car clubs and the online car community. But I didn't expect what I saw in the banquet room, 700 people paying tribute to a man they called friend. And after those 700, more came, standing at the back of the room. And who were they? Through my eyes they were typical PG guys; jeans, ball caps, mullets, mustaches, beards, jackets with emblems, t-shirts, biker boots and runners. They were there for Dave.

How could one average PG guy touch so many people? This is the magic part. The energy of kindness and generosity that was Dave. In his life, from what what the men who spoke said, moved a person who helped without concern for repayment. To whom the word friend meant a life long commitment. A guy who called it as he saw it, politically incorrect or not, mostly the latter. A man who passions ran deep for working on cars and helping other people who did the same, a devoted husband and a man who loved his father. Whether in person or digitally through online forums Dave forged life long relationships with others.

I didn't travel there to say goodbye to Dave really. I think I had said goodbye to him long before.  I had known Dave was terminally ill and followed his journey through my conversations with Mom and Ray. With time, all the tests were done and the doctors provided a diagnosis that no one wanted to hear. 

And at that moment Dave and his family and friends were given a gift; time to say goodbye. The opportunity to look at someone honestly and say "I love you" Hold hands and just be with that person.

I went back to Prince George to hold hands with Ray. Of course I felt sad for all of Ray's kids, I love them and I know how shitty it is to lose a sibling. Not fair. I wanted to be there to show them that I support them. Both mom and Ray said I didn't  have to come. it was expensive, I was busy - what ever. After mom's spiel I said "mom, I'm coming" and her response was "Oh good." I knew my presence was needed by both of them. Ray was saying goodbye to his oldest son and I wanted to be there. 

Our family is intertwined in the most interesting of ways. My brother Cyril was best friends with Ray's son Tim. On remembrance day at the Legion in Prince George 25yrs ago, Mom and Ray met through their kids. Mom had been widowed for 6yrs and Ray divorced for 7. It was love at first sight, a whirlwind courtship and 7 months later I had a stepfamily. Ray is 14yrs older than mom so his kids were older. Adults actually, married with families. Over the course of time we mixed and mingled at parties, get togethers, what have you and we became an extended family. A large, french, slightly dysfunctional family. :-)

The glue for most of this being the mutual care and affection we have for each others parents. I think we all struck gold. From what I could gather Ray's kids had a troubled relationship with their mom but it was evident that they loved their father in a manner akin to hero worship. And I get that, I think he's man worth loving that much. And so is my mom they all found out. Hearts shared at the kitchen table with a woman who knows how to listen and care. Mom's brand of compassion and no-nonsense wisdom salved wounds and showed a different model of what a mother could be. One who loves you and never judges, no agendas and no expectations. I saw they loved my mom as much as I loved their dad. Ray showed up in my life when I was 16. I wasn't looking for a father figure I was just happy that my mom had found love. But Ray always offered me kindness, love and unconditional support. 25yrs later as he's pushing 91 Ray's commitment to me has never wavered, not once. I feel on some level we all had slightly broken pieces and each parent was able to mend that in their own way. There was more than enough love to go around.

So how does this tie back to Dave you may be wondering. The reasons I adore Ray are the same reasons Dave idolized his father and strove to emulate him. Ray is a man of generosity and character. Dave watched his father, learned and demonstrated those same traits. Quick with a joke and a helping hand.

Nothing and I mean nothing cuts through the bullshit like death. We become real, we become honest. We are given a chance to really express what is in our hearts and we can look in each others' eyes. It doesn't matter if all there is is tears. Its about showing up to the party with an honest heart. During these times we remember that life is more than our jobs, our vacations and our dwindling RRSP's. I think its about the inner remembering that we are here to love, be loved and share love.  Dave's health declined and during that time people from all over came to say goodbye to him. And those that couldn't visit sent emails. Emails from all over the world from people he had helped. I think that was when the magnitude of what was going on became more apparent. A steady stream of well wishers to the point that what Dave really needed was less visitors and more rest. I think he knew he could rest later.

Eventually due to his illness, Dave couldn't work on his cars. He had been restoring a vehicle and it was sitting idle in his garage. But not for long. There was no organized plan but friends would come over to see Dave and they would hang out in Dave's most favorite place, his garage. And guys started to work on the car. Every weekend someone, many people were doing what needed to be done. Many hands make light work. Dave got to see his panel wagon restored completed as homage to his passion and the care his friends had for him. Dave's brother-in-law came into town so he could drive Dave in the car to a local "show and shine". It won. I saw a photo of Dave accepting the award. I was shocked; thin, bones, sallow skin, a shadow of the man I knew. How comfortable for me never to see Dave sick. Here he was, not long before he died. The good side of someone who is given time it that they can say goodbye. The shadow side is that those that love them have to watch them lose weight or gain weight, lose hair or gain implements such as oxygen tanks and wheelchairs. And of course that person is present for their own decline. For friends and family it is a discipline required to continue to see that person as the vibrant, strong individual they once were. While for those of us who have lost friends and family suddenly, we can keep a fresher memory of who they were. When I saw Colin in ICU he looked like Colin; strong and big, barely contained in the hospital bed. I held a warm strong hand not a frail one.

Dave had a big concern that he would die in a hospital being taken care of. This was his comment "I don't want someone else wiping my ass" He was probably days away from being placed in a hospice. He took the energy he had left and died at home in his bed. 

I felt a humility seeing all the people there to say goodbye to Dave. I was reminded of the things I think about alot and I referenced in my last blog, living life with honesty and making the right choices big and small. Dave worked hard, he played hard, he loved cars, he loved speed, he told inappropriate jokes, he loved people, he didn't give a fuck what people thought of him, he loved to hunt, he loved to fish, he loved to cook, he loved to party, he was fiercely devoted to his family, he loved his wife and kids.

Dave loved and was loved. Everyone who called him friend got to experience, generosity and kindness in action with a bad joke thrown in there. That's the magic we so easily miss, the magic of caring that changes lives.

 Badda-bing badda-boom