Places Where I've Lived: Ferndale 11, The Apartment

The blessing of having seemingly unlimited funds to play with meant that I could have a decent one bedroom apartment to live in in the West End while keeping the house in the country.  Dopey's generous largess was not going to last forever but we were all focussed on the present and our understanding of the Gospel forbade us from saving or investing money for the future.  We were sure that God was directing us to use it all in the immediate. 

With this idea in mind I sensed very strongly that God was directing me to rent an apartment in the West End on Haro Street between Jervis and Barclay-Great View Manor.  The building was a medium rise, perhaps of a 1950's vintage.  The apartment was on the fifth floor.  Having this place covered several bases at once: I could be relatively close to the hospital where my mother lay waiting to die.  I could also have direct access to our ministry downtown and invite people back for a cup of coffee or a meal and a chat.  It also further distanced me from Flippy, whom I was determined to wedge out of my life by what ever means possible.  Flippy in the meantime had taken a room in a fleabag hotel in the Downtown Eastside, since he was certain God had called him there.  Dippy and Dopey were preoccupied with Shiloh House where they continued to welcome and shelter abusers of their hospitality.

We each took turns taking retreats at the house on Ferndale.  This was for me a welcome respite and yet more time away from the others, especially Flippy.  I did foolishly give keys to the apartment to the others, the expected trade-off for renting this place with community funds.  We frequently met together for prayer and they did want to offer me support with what I was going through though often I would have preferred to be left alone.  Some of the meetings got very intense and Flippy became at times particularly verbally abusive towards me and made every effort to humiliate me in front of the others.

My mother got steadily worse.  She died January 9, 1991, just when they were beginning to bomb Kuwait during the first Gulf War.  People were supportive, Flippy tried to make nice.  I tried, uncharitably, to brush him off.  In the spring the apartment appeared to have outlived its usefulness.  Flippy had left our community, finally.  I moved out the apartment and returned to the house on Ferndale.