Tuesday 17 November 2015

Places Where I've Lived: Ferndale 6

We quickly ran out of money.  The pittance I was getting in Unemployment Insurance Benefits was hardly enough to keep one person alive.  Flippy (Tarzan's "real" identity) as well as refusing to get a job, wouldn't even apply for welfare.  God would provide everything we were needing in the form of my UI benefits and a few generous suckers at church.  He would not listen to reason and I didn't know at the time that as lease holder I could legally evict him.  But Flippy had a near diabolical power over me and he seemed to revel in it.  We fell behind almost three months with the rent.  Food was scarce and as the spring brought forth new greenery I was often harvesting wild herbs and plants for the dinner pot.  I was fortunately very good at budgeting and making food stretch otherwise we surely would have been lining up at the food bank.  We couldn't even afford the laundromat so we hand washed our clothes and hung them up to dry.

As funds dried up we could no longer afford bus fare.  We often walked the ten miles downtown or eleven to St. James (Snooty Church) for early mass.  We simply had to leave at four in the morning in order to arrive in time for morning mass at 7:15.  We would spend the balance of the day in ministry, often in the Persons With Aids drop-in centre where we charmed and befriended some while alienating and pissing off others.  We did hospital visits, usually appreciated.  If we had enough change for a couple of coffees we would pass a few hours in a local café where we also met and talked and offered support to various local people.  We prayed constantly.

My friend the Buddhist was getting increasingly frail.  As I recorded in an earlier post I missed my brother's wedding when he invited Flippy and I for dinner.  I suspected this might be our last visit, given how ill he was becoming and to this day I still don't care that my brother has never forgiven me.  He visited us one last time out at the house on Ferndale.  He was so weak and fragile it amazed us that he could drive the distance from Vancouver.  It was a touching, painful and joy-filled visit.  It was also the last time we saw him.

About six weeks later two things happened that particularly distressed me.  My mother's cancer returned with a vengeance from remission and the Buddhist, sequestered in a gulf island ashram, passed away to his eternal rest.  I was inconsolable and Flippy, ever possessive and controlling, confessed to resenting me for pouring out so much care and grief for two individuals whom I obviously loved more than him.

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