Wow! Where to begin???

Dawn passed three days ago at 12 noon, Wednesday, September 7. Dates are important to me, and not trusting my memory, I write them into poems for future reference.

Her family chose not to have a funeral, which is kind of a relief, being in the high risk category (over 60, Diabetic), I now avoid going into any close proximity social gatherings, that can be avoided.

Dawn was never sentimental, and I know from various conversations, that when she died, it should be without pomp or fanfare.

I was sure she would last till the 8th.

That number and I have had an uncanny connection all my life. I didn’t seriously become aware of it until the early 1990s. Catching on finally, I took a good serious look at my life up to that point. Sure enough, it was everywhere, and in many things I had no control over. The poem In The Month Of Spiders, in Assorted Candies, was inspired by this revelation. Anyone who’s read enough of my poetry will eventually see a pattern of the number appearing in various guises.

My poet friend, Maureen Glaude, passed on July 18th, 2007. My mom passed on October 18th, 2009. I was sure that Dawn was heading for number three, but Dawn being as she is, did it her way, and left on the 7th. I’m glad she did.

My mental health has never been better, despite the virus, but I am in a deep pensive mood, celebrating our time together.

She moved in with me in August 2007, after 5 months of dating. My gut instinct told me it was the right thing to do. Jason wasn’t living with me at the time, and her landlord was booting her out (for renovations) from the tiny apartment she rented downtown.

As it had been a while for both of us, it was a very physical relationship in the first two years. On Sunday mornings (both working at the time), we developed a ritual of drinking strong coffee, smoking weed (great aphrodisiac)...and making love. Then around noon, I would fry bacon, and she would make French toast...something I never got the hang of cooking myself. LOL

As time progressed, we helped one another get through some tough times, financially, family…the death of our mothers in 2009. Somewhere along the way, despite all that we had in common, as with many relationships, it became stale. No doubt that we had strong spiritual bonds as a result of our many experiences together, and so the relationship evolved into a spiritual one. We split up romantically in 2012.

We remained close, and Dawn would often come over for supper, or we’d go out for lunch somewhere. I guess that’s one of the reasons October seems so weird now; she would often come over for Thanksgiving. I usually cooked a turkey with all the trimmings, she loved making home-made stuffing. By that point, Jason had moved back home, and there was good energy between the three of us.

The last time I saw her was this past New Year’s 2019. We met at Irene’s Pub, had a couple of drafts, a nice meal, and then watched a local band (Bruce Barry and the Econoliners) perform covers of a lot of Neil Young’s best songs. Great time, and ominously now with no idea as to what lay ahead. We left just before midnight to avoid the crowd. Dawn called a cab with her cell phone (I still don’t have one), and I covered the tab, dropping her off at her new apartment, just off Carling, before proceeding home.

We kept in touch, talking about maybe renting a car in the late spring or summer, to drive up to her sister’s and brother-in-law’s new place in Arnprior, having recently moved back to Ontario from Victoria, BC.

Once the pandemic arrived, as time progressed, her voice and spirit over the phone changed. I could tell that the Cancer was slowly winning. There was nothing I could do about it, but stay positive and supportive.

And it was killing me, to see someone once so full of life, fading before my eyes.

© 2020

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10/10/2020

Posted on 10/10/2020
Copyright © 2024 Chris Sorrenti