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Monday, March 1, 2010

Last Eve of The Olympics - First Day Of A New Friendship

Last eve of the Olympics!

I haven't felt any urge to travel further than a bike ride to Cambie and 2nd for a healthy dose of deliciousness at, the other day, in over 3 months. After moving to Vancouver from the green and gorgeous Fraser Valley, in 1982, at the tender age of endlessly energetic 22; to really begin living my life "in the big city," I thought I had seen enough of downtown to last a tired lifetime.

After sleeping most of the sunshine-filled day and really catching up on much needed rest, my son and I were more than ready to burn off some rawsome energy, walk forever and smile at the world around us. Besides, I felt beautiful, had applied my face and eco-friendly mineral makeup, straightened my hair, dressed-up in my Lululemon tights,  and just knew I had to remove myself from virtual isolation in magical Marpole; venturing forth into the public eye.

Pulling one beautiful boy off one his new laptop, where he initially laid less than convincing claim of having to "stay and remove virus'," we walked 1/2 a mile to jump on a quick and handy mode of public transit, rarely used by the like of the loving two of us. Meant to be. Since I had already decided that it was important to pick up groceries at one of my favorite organic grocers on Richards, near Yaletown, the drunken crowds were nowhere close to our primaary reason for a first and final visit to Van's unconscious core.

There is a reason for everything. Sitting with my sweet son alongside me, we zoomed along upper Granville. Next thing you know, a middle aged male practically stumbles onto the bus and almost collapses upon the seat, right across from us. I knew. I told the smiling stranger, "It is dangerous to drink and walk." We began chatting. A single, middle-aged male from Whiterock, lonely and living in a 32 ft trailer on a friend's property; paying $550.00 for the privelege of a 4 cramped walls and plenty of mold to mend a broken heart.

Robin makes fast friends with a relaxed and easy-going family, consisting of one "Amazing Mommy" and one very polite and quiet boy who is recovering from a head cold, caught because he likes late night video's and going without a jacket. Since it is end of the final day of our international sporting event celebration, all buses make a final stop just before Broadway and Granville. With long, powerful strides, we courageously walk across car-free Granville Street, filled with throngs of drunken party-goers, having one last go at the bottle and getting caught up in crowds, in order to hide their devastating sense of loneliness.

I spend the extra $60.00 I brought along, to pick up hemp seed nut, avocado's for just under $2.00 a piece,  and rare white Hawaiin ginger, on sale for $9.99; half the price it was a mere week ago. A few more green organic  items, and I am set to join our new sobering buddy, over by the salad bar, where he is sipping the herbal tea I wisely suggested he order, and Kaelin is picking out raw chocolate bars with a few dollars gifted by one grateful guy. I have already compassionately allowed him to hold my hand and he is all too happy just to sit and speak of his personal grief; losing his 103 year old Mommy,  whom passed away 3 years ago.

Sometimes one does not and shouldn't try and figure out why the universe is urging us to get out of our safety nest or a shallow grave, for some. Two of us  may share a safe space of 1000 square feet, where another grieving soul, may be withering away in his vast wasteland of depression, sleeping away his days of in a hungover state; filled with and self-hatred, and feeling there is no hope. All I am able to do is offer my conscious condolesces and gratefully remind another precious parcel of marvelous molecules that he is not alone and there is no need to comdemn himself. For I too, have forever been the black sheep, and it only when we see ourselves as unloved, that we really untruly are. The minute we open our hearts and take a chance, the whole, wide, wonderful world open up ...

Katherine Marion

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