So I do pity you guys, you who read my blog. These sudden switches in topics and in mood. Laughing like a fool with dialogue that really does take place and then to be thrown into the ongoing misery of abuse and then back to a funny story about Hottie and a competition for who turns you on the most. Most of you just seem to be numbed out – but that is not my problem. I find my statistics amusing – they make no difference to me as I do not get paid for doing this. I do not really need the money and it would ruin the fun I have. When in Edmonton on a visit friend Colette found a card – on the outside was a picture of a roller coaster. The inside said: “To get the euphoria you have to go on the ride. It’s kind of a rule.” I love it, unfortunately most people just do not go on the ride and that is their problem – not mine. Do I EVER go on the ride.
So the switch is now taking place and we are now launching into a topic avoided by most -death. I am presently preoccupied with death as I am writing a biography of a man that is dead and has been dead since 1948. I did go to Edmonton to say goodbye (again) to my ‘wished for’
Dad. i will now quote for a responsive reading that took place at the memorial service held on May 27, 2018. It was entitled “They are with us still.”
Leader: In the struggles for ourselves, in the way we move forwarding our lives and bring our world forward with us.
All: It is right to remember the names of those who gave us strength in this choice of living, It is right to name the power of lives well-lived.
Leader: We share a history with those lives. We belong to the same motion.
All: They too were strengthened by what had gone on before. They too were drawn on by the vision of what might come to be.
Leader: Those who lived before us, who struggled for justice and suffered injustice before us, have not melted into into the dust, and have not disappeared.
All: They are with us still, The lives they lived and our memories of them hold us steady.
Leader: These words remind us and call us to ourselves. Their courage and love evoke our own.
All: We, the living, carry them with us in our hearts and in our memories, we are tiger viuces, there handsome and their hearts.
Leader: We take them with us, and with them we, too, choose the deeper path of living.
The words so powerful they almost stun, the concepts profound. The memorial service lived up to its beginning. It was an experience never to be forgotten and then I was rewarded with a book and a blankie. by the alumni group. Wonderful conversations with awesome folk and the chance to hand out more blog cards. It was strange that none of the real family were at the service and they did know I would be in Edmonton for the event. But it was fine because when I left Edmonton the next day it was with a feeling of closure. I had closed that door and, as once discussed with a special person, it is necessary to close doors before opening new ones. A life with meaning requires the opening of new doors.
Finishing the book on Uncle Dave has its rewards. I found this writing already completed and this will begin the book. It explains why the book was written.
The starting point is his ending point. The Regina Leader Post of July 12, 1948 overflowed with accolades and remembrances. This is perhaps the most poignant.
“It’s a pleasure for one who knew Dave really well to be in a position to say to those who did not know him personally- here was a man who could not be compromised, who would never sidestep an issue, who always tried to be fair and honest with every athlete, and with every club, with every sport; a man who had the courage of his conviction; a man who was the personification of tolerance and fair play.” Al Ritchie, Regina Sportsman
I want to know that man, and if not, as death did us part, then to model my remaining years in the image of this man.
I weep when I read this, even though I wrote it. Sometimes I read something I wrote and ponder: “Wow! Who wrote that?” This is a sad blog. The only reason I can bear to feel the feelings and to write it is because I shall soon go to the gym, be tortured by my personal trainer but then later enjoy a special lunch.
The photograph is one recently found in my limited treasure trove. It is Dave Dryburgh, cousin Gail confirms. I assume it was taken near the end of his life. He does not look good, not his usual handsome self. He mysteriously said: “The marriage was in decline.” His face is puffy and he looks almost haunted. I shall never know.
