Knowing that there is no time left
To replace a friend so deep, so rare:
Aging a bitch.
We laughed together about such infinite finitudes;
Sharing thoughts on poetry, philosophy and women,
Talking about God in the wee small hours.
You loved your children and your grand children,
Little dogs and pregnant women.
You hated bullies in private and in public office.
You became Albertan gone coastal,
A true blue hockey loving jazz piano playing healer.
We loved ‘sole food’ at Chez Michel,
Meetings at Whytecliff.
You talked of the guys and Archie.
We shared our notes on Pacific Northwest destinations,
For long drives and romantic retreats,
Calling all, the gifts of recovery,
Rolling like puppies, in grace.
You were truly grateful.
You served fine coffee on your Pink Lady balcony.
Where we discussed program and Christ Church sermons.
It was you I called when my brother lay dying.
You loved the ocean beneath the Lions.
You waved your arms wide at God’s beauty on seawall walks
These were the days.
Horseshoe Bay, Le Connor, and Lion’s Gate,
That place of work you once called home.
And when the administration were particularly creepy,
We’d talk of retreating back to the north,
You to the Charlottes.
But really, you had no great desire to travel,
The north shore was your home,
You loved being close to friends and family.
And now you are even closer,
Sharing in that Big Meeting.
Light of light.