An Everyday Hero

Dear Larry,

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever be writing an open letter to you. Never did I think that you would be far away enough that I would have to. Yet, I know that at times you are near. As if we never parted. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of you. No matter what my mood is, where my head is. To even embrace such an idea as a letter to you would most definitely take all these years to allow me to do so, lest I crumble trying.

You would not believe how things have changed. Oh, you would not believe it. I raise my head to the ceiling and think it so that you will know. So you will grasp the thought like I know you can. I think all the time how different life would be if you had lived. My throat aches keeping tears in their place. Mozart's sweet indifference like a platitude to form. At least to hold me up as I do this.

I am a writer now. Who would've guessed? All those years I spent talking about my artwork, now this. How grateful for the mind to swim in words now. "Sink or swim," you used to say, remember?

The reason for this letter is not to feel sorry for me. Nor do I need it as a sort of remembrance. There is a writer's challenge, you see. To write an open letter to someone who is a hero in our life. There is only one I can think of, you.

My champion, who did no wrong ever. One of the smartest people I know, with a sensational wit that could strike one down or lift them. My frustrated, artistic genius. My perfect match in sensitivity and creative wiles.

We did everything together. Barely apart. We lived and breathed like an organic unit. Special moments, everyday moments. We never fought. People don't believe that but I think it was twice when we disagreed. Twice in all those years.

You are a hero because when you championed a cause you did it with all your heart. When you spoke of something you cared about, it was impassioned. You influenced everyday people, every day. Raised their awareness. Knew exactly how to say it for each no matter who. Never did I see someone stand up for things like Greenpeace, Animal Testing, Over Population, even the Trades, with such pure intellectual reason, stamina, and mind-bending quality to express an argument so that someone understood the real importance of it. Zeal, perfection, and the most gorgeous face I ever touched.

You would give your shirt off your back and indeed did, for anyone emboldened and forgetful in drink because you understood their soul. You held the hand of the lost as many times as you gave them great hugs. You accepted anyone at face value as a person that mattered. That genuineness was not lost on anyone who met you.

You gave me room and freedom to breathe. To grow. Constant encouragement as you slaved at a job that you grew into regardless of how it turned to distaste. Sat patiently how many nights as I studied for school at the kitchen table, for years, always encouraging me. Knew instantly my slightest emotion. Having a keen eye for people, could tell me who to trust, who not to, and I needed that because God knows back then I'd go whichever way the wind blew.

Remember when we watched a man in uniform after dark, beat up a teenager on our front lawn, one who had left a party across the street - and you went out to pick him up after.

When you gave the shirt off your back, several times - to beach wanderers.

When you gave a car away once - because the guy said he needed it more. The Mazda 626, I was so pissed. I smile now.

When you searched for days looking for the cat after we were in complete angst over where she went - came home smiling with her perched on your shoulder, like a Bob Dillon song.

When the day after the Pearl Jam concert, the raft floated way out in the lake and everyone was in an absolute panic as we drifted further out. Without thinking you swam to shore to get help, a rope and someone with a boat.

When my car broke down and no cell phone, terrified - I looked up, and there you were like some compassionate compass and knew I was likely stuck on the Golden Mile because I was never late getting home.

When you jumped off the D'uc D'Orleans boat to distract security so two drunken people wouldn't get caught at the back of the boat. The whole bar, all hundred people at least, cheered you after.

When you helped a neighbour, an elderly woman who had fallen on the ice. We were watching the ice storm from the sun porch. Without hesitation you went to lift her up and see her to her door safely.

You were always doing things like that.

Your acceptance of individuals for what they thought was the beginning of great personal philosophy for me. That has grown to an extent you would not believe. Every person has something to say. It doesn't matter what the person does for a living, how they look, what they wear, what matters is in here, touch your heart.

Without those formative years with you, I would not have shaped myself and what I was meant to do. Our values matched because we were raised the same, very close to. After we met we discovered that when we were children we actually grew up around the corner from each other, you on Retlaw Drive and us on Grove Avenue.

We were going to go to Toronto when I was done with school. Then I would work and you would go to acting school and do that on your seasons off work. Then we were going to take a year off to travel like bohemians, we laughed. Return to the cottage to settle or get a place bigger.

I could fill these pages with memories over many years but then it's as if you resonate through, "why to tell them at all. Keep them here," fist to the chest. We know, that's all that matters.

The adventurers at heart never got a start. The plans we had! The encouragement you gave in reaching for the stars. The moon and sun were already ours. At each daybreak, at every moment awake, and each eve to dream by, we were at each other's side and it takes a hero to stand for his woman. What we stood for was togetherness. You and me facing the world.

You taught me how to stand on my own without even realizing it. When neither of us knew there would be a reason for it. You taught me how to be strong and that it was ok to be sensitive. We shared that mirror that no one could take. I'm ok, your ok at least we're not fake. So together we stood, me in the light of your armor. I know God must have knighted you by now.

You wrote me a note once. After we bought the house, cottage. I came home from class and there was a sticky note you had left on the table for me. Like some huge psychic moment or intuitive grasp. I remember every word and I still have it, somewhere. "Lisa, be careful eh. There are scavengers everywhere. Don't let them in. Peace is a cool word eh? Peace." I stared at that for the longest time, the longest drawn-out moment. Thinking, what in the world occurred while I was gone for you to try to warn me of something. Then I realized it was some kind of spontaneous intuition and your pure desire to keep me safe. That was 17 years ago you wrote that. Oh Larry, how right you were. How things have changed. You would not believe it.

A hero comes in many forms. They rescue people from collapsed vehicles, burning houses, or save a nation in a war. Or they save animals from harm or extinction. A hero walks the night searching for the lost. Never speaks of harm or has an ill will to anybody. They bring laughter to a sad face and you lit many eyes with smiles or great ribald laughter. A hero never extinguishes hope. They keep it lasting in the soul.

If our love was the bravest course, how bravest you would be. How simple is the fight to survive, and leave our wishes to come true. My modern-day philosopher-king who held always a brew. To have called you home to Heaven early, how God must love you.