FRIENDSHIPS — wrinkles in time!

 

The Evolution of Eva

I seem to start friendships in the most unlikely of circumstances.

Sometime around maybe the 1980s, I met Eva. She was the roommate of the president of the Burnaby Federal Liberal Association. She had zero interest in the political scene. But, we did hold our meetings in their rec room. She made it clear that it was ok to use the rec room, but we had to enter and exit from the basement door. We had to be quiet and only use the upstairs bathroom in emergencies. Yes she was that strict and often that grumpy.

At the time the seventeen year old me was rambunctious and sometimes disobedient.  In the case of Eva, I was curious. I eventually ventured upstairs to say hello. Hello is about all I got back because she was intently watching a serious documentary on her black and white tv. She clearly had no desire to interact. Her behaviour intensified my determination to crack her shell. Crack her shell I did.

Eva was a fulltime biophysicist professor at Simon Fraser University. She came to Canada from Germany  in her twenties, completed many, many classes and degree programs to earn her stripes as a world class researcher and professor. She was brilliant in the world of academia, but flat in social skills. For some reason I did not want to walk away because her demeanor intrigued me. 

Eventually she did ask me to come fully into her living room on those political meeting nights. Eventually she told me about the atrocities she experienced under Hitler. Eventually she offered me a glass of champagne even though I was still under age. She told me she admired my boldness in my attempts to draw her out of her very serious demeanour and dissipate her very unsocial manners. I told her I was curious about different personalities and talking to an intellectual felt beneficial to my efforts to break away from being seen as rambunctious and without a hope in hell of making my life’s journey amazing.

From then on, every visit became a cerebrally strained exercise in looking beyond the obvious, dissecting topics to the nth degree, and bringing those pieces back together with a very different outcome. 

Even though my time with her, usually at the tail end of a political meeting, resulted in my having a fast pulsing brain and often a very stressed headache, that’s when I learned how to debate for or against any topic. That’s when I started to write really good essays and grant applications. That’s when I was able to see a future for me to turn heads, to look around corners and beyond the obvious, and to move forward with confidence. I guess you could say Eva was somewhat of a mentor to me.

Fast forward several decades —  Eva is now in her 90s and living in a swank care facility. She has no family but has the most phenomenal of neighbours. He secured her spot at the new home where she will spend her last years. He has undertaken the onerous task of meticulously going through her massive amounts of academic dissertations, hundreds of scientific books, significant amounts of clothing, toilet paper, paper towels, office supplies, LPs, 45s and CDs, and every single drivers license and passport she has ever had.

The guy is amazing. He even set aside a box of stuff he thought I would appreciate, and that’s where my motivation to write this story began.

When I arrived at the house I saw the box sitting on a chair in the kitchen. It was full of Dutch things from Delft blue items to pewter caldrons, some ceramics, and a beautifully hand drawn scene of a neighbourhood in Utrecht. It’s labeled authentic, numbered and signed by the artist. I will treasure it.

In addition to all of the above, I will also treasure something else. On the kitchen table there was a copy of one of my earliest self published collections of short stories and poetry entitled Wrinkles and Rhymes. My jaw dropped as my hands picked it up carefully and my eyes looked at the date — 1996.   

Inside was a handwritten note on pink paper on which Eva had inscribed a personal note. It was very appreciative and complimentary. She never got around to sending that note to me. As a few tears descended down my cheeks,I think I might have understood why — she was never comfortable in expressing personal thoughts or feelings, but she really wanted to be sure I knew what hers were. As to why she never mailed the note to me, perhaps it was her wish to be sure I knew later.

As the readers of this story might deduce, Eva is no longer with us — at least not the Eva I once knew and loved to be around. Her memories are no longer with her, and when I see her I don’t really think she realizes who I am. 

I do plan to visit her at her new “home” next week. I will bring Wrinkles and Rhymes with me, and her note, and see if they trigger some level of recognition. Either way it doesn’t really matter. We had a connection. It was a connection that inspired me and drove me forward, and although her voice never told me how proud she was of me, the personal handwritten note truly says it all. 

With my glass of champagne in hand, the champagne she left behind in her fridge, I raise a glass to her and thank her from the entirety of my very happy heart. ♥️ 

A LIBERAL IS A LIBERAL IS A LIBERAL

MORE MONTREAL MEMORIES

It has been a few decades since I have attended a federal Liberal Party convention. Returning to that opportunity in early Spring 2026, has been the most exciting and reinvigorating experience of my year so far. What took me so long?

To make that long story short, let me just say being physically present in a federal Liberal milieu, be it a meeting, event or occasion, was strictly prohibited when I worked as a provincial political employee. It was seen to be politically damaging — enough said. Silence and secrecy was the price I had to pay to retain the greatest and best job I had ever had, that being the greatest and best job I had ever dreamed of having. Happily I was not a lone wolf Liberal; the few other colleagues and I kept our silence as a pack.

Retirement has brought many positives to my life and the ultimate of freedom summarizes that truth very nicely. I proudly attended the 2026 Federal Liberal Party Convention in Montreal! I proudly told everyone, including naysaying acquaintances — even most of them were supportive. I embraced the feedback.

On departure day, I jumped out of bed at the sound of a Céline Dion tune. Showered, dressed, gathered my things and off I drove to the  Vancouver International Airport. I smiled from ear to ear every moment of the 45 minute drive. I easily found a parking spot in Long Term Parking. The mini SkyTrain was there to drive me to the terminal. I pranced through the NEXUS line of security, with an extra jump in my step,  found my departure gate with a Starbucks flat white in hand. I was ready to go.

At the Montreal Airport, I easily found the highly recommended best and cheapest way to get to downtown. It is called Express Bus 747. Everyone there knows about it. Everyone there knows where to find it. Everyone there highly recommends it. It costs a mere $11.75 and there’s a fresh clean bus every ten minutes. The ride is usually 35-45 minutes and all drivers know exactly which of the seven downtown stops is best for whatever hotel you have booked. It’s impressive. It’s amazing. It’s Montreal!

I arrived deliberately a day early because that’s just who I am. I like to get to where I need to be, acclimatize , orientate myself, know the route I need to walk to get to the Palais des Congrès for 9:00 registration. I enjoyed a relaxing Italian meal in the hotel restaurant with like minded company. I read the convention materials, turned off the light and slept very well.

The three block walk took me through some very familiar territory since I had been to Montreal frequently in my younger days. My mind quickly realized a lot had changed — more buildings, many more buildings. Iconic brasseries and churches were mixed in with the new. Fewer shopping shops but many more eateries. I still felt the magic of French Canadian culture — the language, the music, the support of the arts, the fashion and the grace of the proud people who live there. It felt great to be back.

At the Convention, I was one of 4400 delegates. I did not expect to see many familiar faces because western Canada does not have much support for federal Liberal ideals or policies. It is just one of those truths about people who fear politics or see politics as a game of some sort — a game of liars and cheaters, coming and going, talking through both sides of their mouths and just saying whatever you want to hear. It is quite a sad statement, but I have lived it for over 50 years. So many people fear the unknown and just prefer to be negative or critical about everything they don’t understand. They prefer to either be silent or jump on the loudest bandwagon, supporting the candidate with the nicest hair style, funniest sox or the most people attending rallies. Understanding policies means little or nothing. Asking them about the political spectrum draws blank looks. This has always been perplexing to me. But I digress.

From the moment I opened the glass doors to the Palais des Congrès on each of the three day Conference, I felt at home. Greeted, welcomed, offered coffee, tea or water. People were friendly, kind, helpful. The agenda was packed with options. Special guests like Mrs. Fox Carney, Rick Hansen, Olympic athletes, scholars, & entertainers, delivered inspirational speeches. New policy recommendations were discussed, debated and voted on. Federal Ministers were grouped in panel style to discuss their goals and objectives, successes and failures. Delegates were all given plenty of opportunities to ask questions. 

I met people from all across the country. 

At registration I met ‘Jacques from Yukon’ — as soon as I saw him I remembered meeting him decades ago at a Liberal Convention in Western Canada. He introduces himself in that way to everyone — it is hard to forget someone like that.

In the security line up, I met two ladies who live in Coquitlam! What are the chances? They are long time Liberals originally from Northern BC carrying the Liberal banner wherever they go. We exchanged contact information.

In the hotel elevator on Day 2, I met Shamus from Halifax. A dapper dresser, happy man. He is the author of the Liberal policy resolution to promote better trade with places other than our neighbours to the south.  He offered me a seat in his UBER ride. I accepted. I saw him a few more times that day and the next.

One evening in the hotel dining room, I met Peggy and Liz. They hailed from a small constituency on the north section of the Greater Toronto Area. It has been consistently Conservative forever, but Peggy and Liz have never swayed. They feel more sure than ever that next time the political map will show something very different. I yearn for that feeling too, and I share their optimism.

And then there is Gary. He is a guy I have known for over 30 years. I met him in Victoria. He was a new Member of the Legislative Assembly in the year when the BC Liberal Party (now defunct) won 17 seats. I was called to work there to help the caucus get organized. Gary is a true Liberal and never looked elsewhere. We have kept in touch over the years, and made a point of connecting at the Conference. He is principled and believes in balance, and being with people like that is very rewarding.

People like the ones I have met are not populists. They do not jump from party to party, depending on where the grass seems greener. They are not bandwagon jumpers. They are people who are in touch with their feelings about the country in which we live. They understand that as a diverse country with different geography, cultures, generations, history, and different strengths and weaknesses, a middle of the road approach to governance makes the most sense. We are all in this country together and together we need to figure out balanced solutions — not too right wing, not too left wing, but a balance much like an evenly weighed teeter totter. The Liberals are the middle of the political spectrum, the middle of that teeter totter. 

It has been a long sometimes difficult road for the Liberal members across the country, especially those of us in British Columbia. Conferences like this one and a new fresh Leader with a proven track record on effective problem solving, negotiations and decision making, leaves us all with a renewed sense of optimism in our wonderfully diverse country proudly called CANADA.