With all three of us living together now under the same roof we changed the lease again and put it in all of our names. This was to keep Dippy quiet. She was shamed, angry and defensive, following a stern talking to we gave her about appropriate conduct with persons we profess to help. In vintage Dippy style she tried to put the blame on us for not being there to help her minister to her poor little darling and played deaf when we tried to persuade her that maybe moving someone like that into our home was not the most constructive way of giving him support. She blamed, made excuses, prevaricated. She didn't apologize. "I'm sorry" are two words I never heard proceed out of the mouth of Dippy. She was sacrosanct, the non-virgin Mary, beyond criticism, beyond reproach. Miss Piss-Perfect, as I knew her. To give her credit she did have a phenomenal and often inspiring care and compassion for others. It is sad that this was largely poisoned by her incredible self-righteousness and lack of humility.
I rented another apartment, again in the building on Burnaby Street where I lived in 1987. It was to be our community base downtown though I did tend to stay there frequently to have time on my own and away from the two old women. I found life with them both suffocating and often felt targeted by their own hatred of men, largely fuelled by their own lousy marriages.
As our funds would be soon running out I found employment as a home support worker. This was useful in many ways. The income was nice as was the opportunity to do something that was mine and not somehow wrapped up and made useless and ineffective by Dippy's and Dopey's agency. They worked well together but they also had a kind of mutual understanding that I didn't share with them. Oil and water, I suppose.
We still met every morning for prayer and dialogue. It wasn't always pleasant. We were all lateral thinkers so we would chat and discuss things ad infinitum. Now that I had a job to go to we had to start making things short and simple. Sometimes we had major battles, usually between Dippy and us. She was great for holding grudges and came to resent us both as her mean and unmerciful keepers preventing her from living her life and having any fun. Truth be told, she had no idea how chaotic and destructive she could be. Now that I work in the mental health field I am aware that Dippy carried many of the traits of a borderline personality disorder. She would scream and weep at us for being jaded Christians, cold and hard-hearted while clinging to us both, especially to Dopey in the desperate dependency of a drowning child.
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