glimpses............

For the better part of last week, I was on the road visiting people in their homes. In between deep open conversations with individuals, often pertaining to their aches and pains from illness and difficult life struggles, travelling from one rural home to another, I stopped the car when the mood stirred me and took some pics. The sun, the music playing and my wide open search for interesting shots was the salve needed to clear my head in order to be fresh for the next visit.

Of all the shots I took on this particular day, I liked this one the best. I don't know why.......perhaps the fact that the colour of the stones naturally blended with the birch trees. The shadows........the pristine snow informing me that no one has come to visit in a while.....the heart shaped tombstone.......the history it held.

I didn't have time to check out many of the engravings, but I could hazard a guess that there are but a few different names located in this little cemetary by the side of the road. All of them original settlers to the area............all of whom are most likely ancestors to the people who presently live and work on the land in the area.

I love the freedom of my backroads travelling, especially on a beautiful winter day when the sun is finally caring enough to warm faces again. I also love the chance to meet a wide array of people, to learn a slice of their personal story........what they feel comfortable sharing.

On this particular afternoon, I met with a 62 year old man who lived just up the hill from this graveyard. He lived in the old homestead house, built 180 years ago........old for Canada....... His family had worked the surrounding fields for 5 generations. He had spent most of his adult life living out west, working the oil rigs only to return alone about 10 years ago. Last summer, after feeling very tired and very weak for an extended period of time, he was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease (ALS). He was applying for a disability pensionand it was my responsibility to meet with him, gather information about his situation and then return to my office to write up his story for the medical board to review.

I had to park the car on the road and trek up the unploughed driveway to his isolated house on the hill. The view was breathtaking, but it was startling how isolated this man was, and obviously without neighbourly or familial supports to help him.

When I arrived to the side door, he greeted me........standing upright. On first inspection I found him dirty and dishevelled, his teeth all darkly stained and his face weathered by hard drinking. He hadn't had a bath in a while. He looked tired and worn out. The old house had also seen better days. It seemed to be falling into the realm of beyond repair. It needed a good airing out. It needed someone to clear the clutter.

We sat at an old harvest table piled high with hardcovers and reading paraphenalia. He apologized for his appearance..........he had woken up feeling a cold coming on and was feeling worse than he had since last fall when he had a bad bout of pneumonia which almost killed him. I asked him if he had help, and he told me that a homemaker normally comes to help for a couple of hours on a daily basis. He explained that because he hadn't been well for over a year, and didn't really know why, he had let the housecleaning slide. He didn't have the energy. The homemaker has been spending her time cooking and cleaning as much as she could during her time alloted. It seemed to me that not a dent had been made in the multi-years of neglect.

Though I had only just met him, I could tell that he was struggling with the onset of his cold and wasn't himself. Still, he was eager to talk. Once we completed the basic information needed to complete the disability application, our conversation went from there. We spoke of literature and his love of reading. He had just finished War and Peace and was enraptured by the story. We talked of music and his love of the piano. He told me stories of his ancestors and the history of the area. We talked about politics and local issues.......about family ties and connections. He showed me pieces of intricate woodworking his great grandfather had completed as gifts for his great grandmother when they were courting. He told me of his work out in Alberta. What he didn't tell me was about any relationships in his life, except that he isn't in touch.

My feeling was that this man had burned many bridges in his life. He was alone, dealing with his diagnosis. We spoke of the need for him to make arrangements for a subsidized apartment in town for next winter. Summer was fine to live out at the old house, but keeping the wood furnace stoked and having enough wood for the winter was too much for him.

The last part of our conversation veered towards spirituality as we spoke of the many things in life we have no control over and how the older you get, the more one realizes this. Sure, we have choices about how we treat the people in our lives, about how we use and abuse our bodies, but that we need to relinquish our pseudo control to a Higher Power.

Illness is humbling. It was a lesson this man had learned over the course of the last 6 months. He revealed his humility to me.

A softening of the heart.

As I was getting ready to leave, we both expressed how nice it was to have met and how much we enjoyed the conversation. I pulled out my camera to show him while exclaiming how lucky he was to have such an amazing view.......asking him to describe what it looks like in the fall when alll the leaves are at their peak. He invited me back to see for myself and to take photos........

I clicked a bunch of vista shots on my way down the driveway while he watched me and then we waved goodbye. My next stop was the shot of the graveyard. That night, when I was home I reviewed all the shots, and decided that this one spoke to me. I wanted to post it right away but didn't know what I wanted to say about the photo. So, I kept it in my "blog drafts," knowing that I could return to it when I found the right words.

Today, I was back in my office writing up the reports of the people I visited in their homes last week when I received a phone call. The man had died on the weekend. Suddenly. Unexpectedly from pneumonia. Alone.

The news took my breath away.