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December 17, 2008
You know Christmas is coming when you are boogying down the highway five
minutes ahead of a storm and a truck hauling a float of taxidermied reindeer
passes you, with head movements so life like you'd swear you saw them
blinking and heard bells tied around their necks -- so loud they drowned
out the sound of the car horn. I must admit I am known for having a bit of a
weak stomach but the sight of the stuffed fluffies sent me into a tizzy, oh
the poor children standing roadside for a glimpse of Santa only to see a
bunch of dead deer on sticks. As we passed Antigonish, we saw the truck make
the turn and it was with great relief that I realized the Christmas Parade
had been cancelled. On the other hand, it meant the storm was catching up
to us so I put my foot a little harder down on the gas and we arrived in
Cape Breton just in time to pull into the driveway, turn off the car, walk
inside the door and take off our boots before the snow hit like a Hollywood
bathroom. You couldn't see a thing through the windows and it was clear we
were there for the night. Ask every single passenger stranded in
Newfoundland after 9 11 and they will tell you it was one of the best
experiences of their lives, it's like life gives you no option but to enjoy
the moment - and I was in Cape Breton so I was happy to enjoy the moment. We
went there to visit a friend's father, who through the years had become a
great friend himself, and who was battling Cancer. We had a great day and
night chatting, laughing and talking about how blessed we all were to have
each other. We said goodbye a day later, got back in the car and back on
the plane to Toronto. As soon as I walked in my house I got the call he had
passed and I felt twelve million emotions - sadness for his family and
community, yet relief that he didn't have to suffer any longer. I also felt
immense joy that I got to count this man as a friend and that my lasting
image of him is one of smiles and laughter. So much so, it's only when I
squint really hard and try to picture every detail do I even remember he was
wearing an oxygen mask. I guess sometimes God is in the forgetting of the
details.
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