Tuesday 3rd February
We are up early - early for this house anyway, at 9.00 am as Bev and Dickie have their annual check up at the doctor - the appointment is for 11.15 and it is a fifteen minute drive away. Dickie has been out and 'dug out' the car, shovelled snow from it, and turned it on, to warm it up for us. He is a gentleman, always thoughtful, and has a true respect for women. The doctor is an Asian woman who now treats all of their family, and the waiting room has restful music playing, and a large screen showing beautiful pictures around the world. People come and go as we wait for their turn, Bev goes in, and two white women arrive, shabbily dressed, unwashed hair, and clearly in the middle of an argument. They look the same age, but turns out, they are mother and daughter. For several minutes they shout unabashedly at each other from opposite sides of the waiting room, starting out with the challenge "WHICH PART OF NO DON'T YOU GET?" - the aggression spills over like liquid throughout that peaceful place, yet nobody says anything, eyes are averted, magazine pages are turned, the receptionist keeps receptioning. WOT? A deadly silence eventually lapses - interrupted from time to time by another toxic volley from one to the other. I am relieved when we leave.
Dickie drives to the 'drug store' to get a special pill, and returns without it. "I ain' paying no forty four dollahs for one pill". $44 for one pill? I ask, what kind of pill? He responds "A gentleman's enhancement pill." Oh. He has learned he can get a months supply of another pill, free on trial, and decides that's his course of action. Bev tells me later, if she is 'in the mood' she tells him, and he will take four tablets. FOUR tablets? I say, "Won't he have an erection for days on end?" No, its cumulative. Oh.
I am now starving, and we drive to the Blue Bay Diner, parking next to the building in a Handicapped Zone, they have a sticker since Bev fell and broke her ankle. It is just like the movies, I feel I am on set, we pass a huge windowed fridge full of cakes and cream trifles and there is a long bar with 1950's type swivel stools, plus booths, which is where we sit, and hang our coats and scarves and hats on hooks attached to each one. The menu is vast, pages and pages, and from what I see being served, so are the portions. I settle on a spinach omelette with french fries. Hold the sauce, hold the bread, hold the butter. Bev has a cheese omelette with home ???, a pile of sliced potatoes, onions, and cheese, which I taste - its delicious, but there is enough here for three hungry large truck drivers. Mine is delicious, and my cup of green tea is filled three times, I eat everything, even the mound of french fries. Dickie has a pastrami sandwich - mustard 'on the side' - and a bowl of coleslaw drowning in mayonnaise. Despite my proclamation as we sat down that lunch was 'on me', Dickie flatly refuses my money, he and Beverly are stubborn and I know to insist will be futile. I thank them.
As I type, I hear the sirens of New York's Finest shrieking past.
We head to the nearest Macey's, Bev has her vouchers for an additional 20% off the sale price, and we head to the coat department. Within minutes, the three of us have a selection of four or five, and I try them all on, both give considered opinions, Dickie is carrying the excess clothing (its like a huge hair dryer is blowing on you the moment you step indoors ...) and I settle on the perfect coat. Black, knee length, filled with duck down and ???, a snug fitting faux fur lined hood, good pockets - its Calvin Klein, and reduced from $275 to $160, with Bev's vouchers, I pay $143.50. I am delighted!
Next stop The Liquidators where Dickie's ring has been repaired, and I buy four bottles of Aussie wine for $7.50 each.
We head home through the snow and the yellow school buses, dropping kids off, blowing great clouds of condensation from their mouths as they descend the steps. Inside for more tea, and typing up on this Ipad.
The door goes, and its Billy, come for 'a visit'. I love this family. His huge bulk fills the small space and he sits at the head of the table, as his "Daddy" dishes up a big plate of 'stu' - a delicious beef and vegetable concoction, with rice, and "Mom" brings him a jug of hot tea. I am sitting at the table with him, and totally without a hint of self consciousness, he closes his eyes, and quietly thanks God for this meal, this blessing, this family, this abundance. My eyes fill with tears at this simple, humble, gentle act. Finally we are all at the table and eating, and Billy is talking of his life, what happened to him when he had the stroke, the hospital, the fight for compensation, he has actually been given three and a half years, full pay - the 'miracle' of his recovery, the work he does for 'The Struggle' - like his mother, he is an activist, acts of injustice are fuel to his fire, yet he speaks with a soft, considered tone, respectful and thoughtful of manner, a gentle giant who I can see is a force to be reckoned with - the very epitome of 'power vs force'. He talks of his community work in different cities, and in his own community, of the difference committed people can make in the world. We are speaking the same language.
He and Lorna have been introduced to The Landmark Forum through friends, I am a little confused, as this group are all Landmark graduates, but belong to another 'church' of some kind, and they call each other "Prophets and Prophetess" and use the language of Landmark. They have not yet been to a Landmark event, although they are already using some of the distinctions, through what they have learned with this group. They are eager to hear from me about Landmark and my experiences, and so I share, as I always do, passionately and generously, and tell the story of Gerald and I. I can see he is moved.
I like him very much. I think when he gets to the Self Expression and Leadership Program, we will see and hear even more amazing things.
Its 11 pm and he must go, its a 2 hour drive home, and he calls Lorna to say he is on his way. Different hours for different folks, my eyeballs are falling out of my head, but Bev and Dickie are still watching TV at 1.30 am when I get up to wee!