Five good friends and Mary Margaret Edwards.

The following is the original and the rewrite can be found by clicking here.

Behind the curtain and under the harsh fluorescent lighting I heard my mother had had a heart attack; a clot had also formed in her heart, went to her brain, and caused a stroke, and for good measure fluid was building up in her lungs and she had slight pneumonia. We all agreed Mary Margaret Edwards was having a very bad day. 

We held whispered conversations in dull tones as medicine was translated into layman terms, the situation clarified for understanding, and philosophies bigger than ourselves discussed; all the while hoping (and praying) Mary Margaret Edwards could not hear the conspiracy that was unfolding. 

The late summer night air was unusually hot and heavy, and as we quietly walked to the car, we were left with our thoughts and the culpability of the decision to offer no further intervention, and let nature take its course.

Mary Margaret Edwards
(March 2, 1933 - September 13, 2016)

Mary Margaret Edwards passed peacefully September 13, 2016. 

Stoically, Mary took life on the chin, and true to her character, has asked not to be a bother or inconvenience anyone. Her only request was the reading of the 23rd Psalm. 

The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. 
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: 
He leadeth me beside the still waters. 
He restoreth my soul: 
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake. 

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me; 
Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me. 
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; 
Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over. 

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, 
and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever. 

Mary will be cremated and there will be a private family ceremony. 

Mary Margaret Edwards now dwells in the house of the Lord forever, along with her daughter: Angels both. 

Death is a surprisingly administrative enterprise as you work through a person's last will and testament, consolidate things, distribute memories, remove a person's name from the ledgers of everyday life, and leave a marker behind to battle with the passage of time.

Shortly after Mary Margaret's death an invitation came my way to join friends at a cottage and take advantage of the last breath of summer; at this time of year, the air is cool, the sunshine is warm, and surprisingly, the water is warm enough for a mid day swim. I immediately said yes.

Five good friends were able to make it; two of them I have known since grade school. As we greeted each other with hands extended, one of my oldest friends hugged us all instead. It was a recognition and reminder that our friendships deserved more than just a simple handshake... at least this was how I interpreted this simple act as I hugged him back with the greatest of appreciation.

There was some talk of Mary Margaret Edwards but much of the weekend consisted of sharing the current events in our lives, laughter, the odd swim, prideful stories of our children, and the memories that come with a lifetime of friendship. It was a very good weekend by all measures and ended with hugs all around as we went our separate ways.

Mary Margaret Edwards will rest in peace and our friendships will continue.

Life goes on, as it should.

iamgpe

The last day before school starts ... a familiar and comfortable sensation.

The following is the original and the rewrite can be found by clicking here.

We always have these conversations no matter how many decades have gone by or where we find ourselves; it seems Labour Day encourages them. They are the conversations and memories of the last day before school starts, and although not technically the last day of summer, those memories as well.

For some of my friends the memories of getting ready for school, the new set of school clothes, and the anticipation of the first day are vivid; for others, myself included, the memories are faint. No matter the quality of these memories though , there is always a familiar and comfortable sensation that something is about to change that keeps them company.

With my school years a ghost of a memory, and my parental obligations to get my daughter off to school in the latest fashion behind me, all that remains is this familiar and comfortable sensation that something is about to change; it is the anticipation of change, the excitement of something new, and the desire to search this out that captivates me.

Soon to be over, this summer has been one of friendship; a celebration of relationships that have spanned decades where we raised a glass to say both hello and goodbye to the people who have touched our lives. A wonderful time where I raised my face to the sun, and enjoyed the world and people around me. But these lazy days of summer are almost over, and that familiar and comfortable sensation that something is about to change is settling in.

Change, excitement and autumn await me... such a grand sensation.

iamgpe.

Surrender to the places that seduce you...

The following is the original and the rewrite can be found by clicking here.

Easily missed from the main street if you are not looking carefully; its only marker is a Carlsberg beer sign high over the alcove to the entrance. If not for the neon OPEN sign and THE HOLE IN THE WALL  embossed in gold on a window tucked back in the shadows, you would not know it is there. It may seem you should go down the stairs but don't - That is not the way in.

Inside, the space is narrow and long, with the bar along one wall. There is a rustic feel to the space with the wooden floor, the brickwork walls, and the back lit stained glass over the bar; all complimented by the eclectic style of the booths, the art on the wall, and the music in the background... there is a warmth that invites you to take a seat and sample the many craft beers, try the cocktails they can make or enjoy the food they offer - An oddly familiar sensation of being in a speakeasy takes hold; a bygone era that with a little imagination becomes real. 

The people come in waves, leaving the bar empty one moment and full the next. Standing room only on a Friday or Saturday night with live music filling the air, only ever escaping into the street when the door is opened.

It is a place I keep returning to (alone or with friends), as if being seduced by a forbidden lover. 

I would not go so far as to say I am a "regular" but there was one time my beer was poured and in front of me as I sat down; a brown ale called 10w30 from a local craft brewery. It is my beer of choice, Woodford Reserve is my bourbon of choice, and an incredible bacon cheeseburger is my default for food. 

It is curious how a place can seize you and create a connection never to be forgotten; The Village Kitchen and Pie Shoppe in California, the Ranstead Room in Philadelphia, the Hotel de la Montagne bar in Montreal*, and now The Hole In The Wall - I will carry them with me always. These places spur on the human condition I suppose... they give us a place to savour all of our senses, be a voyeur or an exhibitionist, remain solitary or be social, and allow for engagement in the conversations that bring us together. 

They whisper your name, forever calling you like a great love, "Come join me, I am waiting. We have much to talk about."

Surrender to the seduction, but don't pick just any place.

iamgpe

* I almost broke down and cried when I heard they demolished the Hotel de la Montagne. The bar in the lobby was truly one of a kind.