Today was hard and not for the reasons I thought it would be.
I should back up for those who don’t receive in person updates.
I left Montreal in the beginning of December following a less then enjoyable trip to Toronto (though I did enjoy time with Amanda and Suzy there. The rest of it was not as great)
Fast forward to now.
My plan for the day involved sending off portfolios to Concordia University.
It started with some bad news
It ended up with some very bad news.
I woke this morning to learn of the earthquake in Christchurch. My friend is okay, but what of his family. What of his friend and their families?
Life worries seem so trivial compared to this.
I did send those portfolios but after a trip to the vet I made a stop at my friend Amanda’s house to pick up my usb drive and my towel.
I came in, got my drive and then Patrick, Amanda’s dad asks me if I’ve heard.
When I say no, he lightly touches my arm and with a scarily stark look he tells me.
Rob Hall is dead. He died this morning fixing a roof when the generator blew up.
At first the news had as much impact as if he had told me it looked like rain.
I focused on the task: Finding My Towel.
I went from up to down to up to down with bated breath.
There were no tears, just a single minded purpose of the hunt.
It was like I was waiting for it to pour out. The way I have experienced death in the past is that any hint of it would open the well of tears for my big brother and it would seem as if all the sadness in the world was in my heart and my tears.
I had been thinking earlier that day about how few memories I have of Nathan. He died when I was ten and my biggest desire has always been to have a grown up conversation, to know him threw something other than a child’s goggles as I did.
But when I achieved the mission and the tears hit, there was no deeper well of emotion it tapped into, just this one loss, just this one day.
And then there was the thought of his kids..
If I have so few memories of my own dear brother and I was four years older than his eldest.
I have no fears for Rob, I know where he is. And one lesson I have learned to day is that I have some peace about death.
The deeper well is healed in some way so it won’t flood in the rainy season.
I have no fear some something I have hung over from a cliff face.
There is no fear in the cycle of life, only in the loss of the privilege to be with who you love and who loves you.
Children without a father.
My taste of loss is just that, a taste.
But in the cold desert he came
Brought berries and warmth
A sweet light in cold day
My father sings to me
From beyond the sands
He loves from beyond
And would love to break the distance
But everyone has a prison
An few a window
And everyone is here or there
Only God can set us all free.
