Remarkable People I Have Known

I first met her in 1983 in a local coffee shop.  The Great One had spoken highly of her and suggested that I meet her sometime.  When I saw her there I approached her table and introduced myself.  It was a late autumn morning.  I was unemployed and spending a lot of my time downtown in the local scene attempting Christian ministry of presence.

She was a mother on welfare, divorced, with five children ages fourteen to twenty-two, three daughters and two sons.  She was a lovely, engaging, friendly and very intelligent and sensitive person.  She clearly loved much and cared much.  She was enormously fat.

She was greatly loved by the local gay male community.  She also hated the term "fag hag" and whether the moniker really fit her or not I will leave for others to decide.  I saw her as a potential comrade in arms and was zealous to cultivate her friendship.  

The Fat Lady, the Great One and I passed many vigils together inside Benjamin's Café on Davie Street where we were befriended by sex workers, drug dealers and users, transsexuals, transvestites and transgendered persons and various local folk of every age, shape, size and gender.  We would sit for hours, or do split shifts together.  It was in parts exhilarating, frustrating, gratifying, boring, enjoyable and frightening.  This woman's capacity to love and accept others no matter who they were or where they were in their lives was a constant source of inspiration.

Only a bit later did I learn about the thick dark shadow that obscured her and her family.  From a mutual friend I heard that her ex-husband had chronically sexually abused every one of their three daughters and impregnated one of them.  I was naturally shocked, tearful, and also angry that she had trusted others with this personal pain of hers but did not deem me trustworthy.

We still remained in contact though we never spoke once of the issues of incest.  I don't think she ever guessed that I knew.  As it became clear that she didn't really consider me as a friend, but rather as a kind of auxiliary or spare I began to distance myself.  We eventually lost contact.  She died around eight years ago.  I didn't attend her funeral.