Memories: Meeting and Early Days

a way to grieve and celebrate the death of my dear friend and ex husband

Image description: Ron on his blue 80 CC Yamaha motorcycle in front of green trees. Circa 1982.

In 1982, I worked as a cashier at a self-serve gas station, Cloverdale Texaco on Dundas Street West in Etobicoke while attending my first year at the University of Toronto, Victoria College. My shift was Saturdays from 3 to 10pm. On October 23, 1982, one week after I turned 19, sometime after 7pm, I was startled by someone’s arrival by the door behind me. I was supposed to lock the back door after 7pm, but had forgotten.

A young man with jet black hair, a blue motorcycle jacket, friendly brown eyes and a big smile came in. I think I started working at the gas station that summer to try to make extra money for school. I didn’t get paid much. My duties were to handle gas payments and process the receipts to pay for the gas delivery. I was alone much of the time, especially in the evenings. It was probably not the wisest job for a girl of my age to have, but my mother’s son’s friend ran the station, so it felt like I would be ok.

At that age, I was very unsure of myself. I had started university with a plan to do well and go to Paris in my second year on a school trip. I wanted to be a translator. I was enrolled in an Honours BA in French. I don’t remember if in October I was already having trouble with school. I may still have been excited about meeting so many new people of varying ages and backgrounds. When Ron walked in to the gas station, I was happy to see him, someone my age who looked friendly. His startling me lent a kind of magical air to the experience.

He pointed out his motorcycle, a very small bike. It was a 1967 Yamaha 80 CC and I was surprised it was even street legal. He had come for help because it had run out of oil and he didn’t know what kind he should use. We got lots of requests of this nature at the station. I was no expert but my father used to ride a motorbike, so I called him. When I spoke to him about Ron, Ron heard the enthusiasm in my voice and decided that he would come back the next week.

Ron and I had a great conversation. I learned he was doing a co-op work term in Mississauga after first-year university at the University of Waterloo in Systems Design Engineering. I was impressed by how smart he was, and how brave, leaving his home in Winnipeg at 17 to come to Ontario for school. I was still living in Mississauga with my parents. I had dreamed of leaving home and saved for university since I was 8 years old. I wanted desperately to leave that place.

The next week was Halloween. He brought candy for the kids. That’s the kind of person Ron always was: thoughtful and considerate of others. I was charmed by that, even though no kids came in to the station at all during my shift. We had another great conversation. He told me about his family and especially his siblings who he was really proud of and missed. He showed me some photos of his youngest brother’s clay dinosaurs. I wasn’t close to my siblings who were 10 and 12 years older than me and had left home some years before.

Ron asked me out. He said he could get us tickets to Second City, a comedy show in Toronto. It was very exciting to me. I hadn’t done a lot of dating in my youth. My father was very possessive and I could only date in secret throughout my teen years, so it happened rarely and involved meeting groups of friends at a local roller skating rink or sometimes making out with a boy at Maria Curtis Park, but I didn’t really have dates. I did meet some boys when I was on choir / band exchanges to the States when I was in high school, but those were nothing more than going to dances at the school and make out sessions. No one had ever asked me out.

Ron couldn’t get tickets for the next week, so he invited me out to dinner and a movie. It all felt very glamorous to me. We met at the Bloor Yonge Subway. He had to come all the way from Mississauga by bus and was late, which I remember being annoyed by. When we met for coffee long after we were no longer a couple in the last decade or so of his life, he was always early for our coffee chats. Back then though he was late a lot.

We went to Frank Vetere’s near the theatre at Bloor and Yonge. We were in a bit of a rush because we wanted to see the film, the World According to Garp, so we ate the really hot pasta dishes, both of us burning our mouths on the food. It was a lovely time. The movie was great and the company was wonderful. I can’t remember afterward. Did we ride the subway and bus home? Did he escort me back to my place? I really don’t remember anymore. I wish I did. I wish I had all of our early encounters memorized, but I do remember that there was a connection right from the start.

I will write again soon about those early days in Toronto, the move to Waterloo, then Ottawa. I think it might help me to share these memories. If you are grieving the death of someone you love, does it help you to share your memories?

Thank you to all who have offered condolences. I am sad but grateful to have known Ron. He was a lovely person.