1990-2000 Gloucester

grief notes

Now that Ron has died, all I want to do is think about the good times we had together. In the 90s after my graduation from the School of Translators and Interpreters, and he was working for a small consulting firm, we lived in a townhouse in Gloucester, a suburb within Ottawa and not too far from downtown by public transit. Here are some good things I remember:

The back garden of our townhouse where we planted coriander, mint and basil.

Our small hibachi that made tender and juicy steak; Eventually we purchased a barbecue and made cedar-smoked salmon, which smelled and tasted heavenly.

Our front garden, the purple clematis, the irises that came up every year. These were the first gardens I had ever been responsible for. The bulbs came from the Kanata Sailing Club garden.

Almost buying a myna bird. Flaming red and yellow wings, an intelligent look in the eyes. We were tempted. The bird had a a real personality. Then it squawked. The sound went right into the brain. It was horrifying. We did not get the bird.

Video movie nights with friends.

Birthday party dinners at Whispers in the West End for our employees. We had only ten employees so we had these celebrations for all of their birthdays and even paid.

The time we took all the staff to a furniture store so they could pick out their own chairs (within our budget). One staff member even dreamed about the chair while his wife was in labour at the hospital and he was sitting on the hard uncomfortable hospital chair.

Our work Christmas parties, the great hors d’oeuvres and the Christmas music. I loved buying xmas music for these parties. We decorated the office.

Friends’ wedding and reception at the Guild Inn. I was very sick with a cold, but the mother of the groom who was from Normandy had brought Calvados, which was fiery and made me feel better.

The Greek Festival where we celebrated with baklava and wine. Ron was someone who really was great at celebrating the moment. We went every year.

In1993 I decided to take pottery and guitar lessons because I wanted to do something with my hands other than write and feed myself. Ron was supportive as always. Along with my acoustic guitar, he also insisted we get an electric guitar, a giant amp and a digital effects box. I wasn’t sure I would be able to play the electric, but I gave it a shot and it felt really fun and bad ass. I always imagined giving him the electric guitar when he got into playing guitar himself. I think he would have really enjoyed it.

All our trips to Winnipeg and Gimli. His siblings, who I admired greatly. They always welcomed me.

Drunken bacchanalia with Ron, listening to Leonard Cohen whilst canoodling and drinking Lagavulin.

The time an old friend of his he had known since kindergarten moved to Ottawa with a partner. We went to Canada Day celebrations on Parliament Hill. It was great fun, but crowded.

Another time we watched the fireworks with friends from translation school and heckled the colours. It was whimsical.

Our trip to France in 1999. Ron bought me peonies at the market. We stayed with friends Rita and Pascal. The peonies were in a vase by our bed and their fragrance lingered all night.

Cape Cod, an efficiency cottage. We brought a big pot along with us and boiled up giant lobsters that we got at the local fish market.

The Kanata Sailing Club Monday night and Wednesday night race nights: Ron sailing while I hung out on the beach. Taking turns doing the barbecue dinners for the sailors. I also sometimes did scorekeeping for the regattas. They were fun, social affairs with racers coming from other clubs and other cities as well as the locals. Ron always enjoyed racing the Laser.

Boston, the glass flowers at the Harvard Museum.

A cross-country ski attempt at a friend’s house in Fitzroy Harbour. I was terrible at it, but I did go through a lovely grove of trees and was given a clementine at the end.

The Lantern Festival in New Edinburgh. Ron and I both loved the lanterns at night. Once he made a little hot air balloon using tissue paper, a champagne cork wire contraption and a cotton ball and lighter fluid. I remember the little balloon flying over the river in the dark night.

The Ottawa Folk Festival at Britannia Park. We went every year and spent afternoons and evenings there, listening to music and having picnics.

All of Ron’s help when I was struggling with my translation freelance work.

Once when I was really upset and feeling anxious, we were in our little kitchen at the tiny table in the corner. I was crying so hard and I had my head on the table. He suggested we make a “things that are plaguing us” list or TAPU. This helped. We didn’t try to solve anything, just putting it all down helped make us feel better.

We took drives to nearby towns such as Merickville, Almonte and Westport. Once we saw the Northern Lights. Ron may have been the one to find a reversible sunflower raincoat that suited me and I loved.

We always sang in the car on our road trips. He taught me a few songs we harmonized to. I still remember the lyrics to this one: “Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine./I’ll taste your sweet berries and drink your sweet wine./A thousand tomorrows will all pass away. Ere I forget the joy that was mine today.”

These are the memories that stand out for me and this is where I will leave my trip down memory lane for now. I am forever grateful for the time Ron and I had together, navigating life from our late teens to mid thirties together and then becoming dear, lifelong friends. I will always remember him, the light in his eyes, after sailing on the water in Cape Cod during a tempestuous, sudden storm. He navigated the waves easily and loved the adventure of it. I will always love him. I will always remember the joys we had.