It sometimes astounds me the circle of friends I developed while I lived in this strange house. Casey next door and I quickly renewed our friendship. She seemed to see me as a support, almost as a caretaker and I did find this a bit odd. We were very young: I was turning twenty-three and she would soon be twenty-two. I was her only close male friend and given her intense involvement in her lesbian-feminist collective it was only natural that I should count this an honour. My being a good and eager cook made it very easy for her to rely on me for meals but I didn't mind: she didn't eat a lot and I enjoyed having company for dinner. I did find her a bit formidable and scary at times. She could be very intense and I have to say that she is one of the most disarmingly transparent people I have ever known. I have known few people so nakedly honest as Casey.
In the meantime the Great Canadian Artist and I were forming an interesting friendship. She was the same age as my father and lived in as modest but nicely appointed house in Kitsilano with a beautiful garden. Her house was also her studio and she was turning out some of the most interesting works of art, be they panels of canvas covered with details from her flower garden or giant ceramic cabbages. We would go out sometimes to a concert or for dessert and coffee. She was in a way teaching me and helping to form me because she was so wise, experienced, cultured and educated.
One Sunday while waiting to visit her at home at the appointed time I had an hour of free time so I sat at the communal table in the Naam where I met Michael, a locally prominent folk musician. We strangely hit it off right away and became close friends for years to come. He also lived just two blocks away from me. We were a regular feature in each other's lives. He often took me to his performances and concerts and venues where I met a lot of his friends. He was also a frequent visitor in my little housekeeping unit.
Jeff and I remained good friends. He was wise enough to leave Diliram well ahead of me and was not subjected to the wrath of the living Dan Gardener when he returned from Quebec. He would frequently take time out from his studies for a visit and a chat. Jeff very much mentored me and thanks to him I was able to develop a good, lasting and viable concept and theology around Christian peace-making and social justice matters. It turns out that I was not the only one he mentored in this way. Some thirty years later I met another friend, a teacher in the theological college where he was a student with Jeff, who has since become a very dear friend. Recently we both learned of our mutual connection to Jeff.
My little housekeeping room, for its limitations became very much a place of hospitality and I enjoyed many dinners, potlucks and coffee and tea visits from these and many more of the diverse and wonderful folk who were so kind to befriend me during this challenging time of transition for me. I still remember this time and these people with deep and profound fondness.
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