The Maha Whisperer

I was standing at the phone booth panicked about calling a boy. I looked over and saw her sat at the entrance of Oliver’s, the primary University pub. We had met once before, through Scott, whom I was trying to find the courage to call.

I put the receiver back in place and approached her, asking if she would mind coming and standing with me as I rang this man because I needed female moral support.

Without hesitating, she shut down her station – collecting entrance fees for the most popular night on campus, and stopping the line – and came to stand with me as I dialed. While the phone rang, she held my hand and told me that no matter what, it would all be fine.

That was nearly 25 years ago.

She was right. It was all fine; he picked up, excited to hear my voice and make a date.

Scott, whom I adore still, and with whom I am still in touch was my first love. Janey, she will always be amongst my always loves.

Over the last 25 years of friendship, in any sort of trauma, familial or otherwise, we have always made certain to keep the other. At times, when we have not spoken as often, that stood still, though we might not have tapped into it as we would have otherwise. Always, she has been extraordinary, and a friend against I can’t tell any lies, even when I am trying to lie to myself.

The passage of time, though it is best for healing wounds, it is also a reminder of the loyalty and honesty brought forth by only a few. Janey, she is one of them.

The Maha Whisperer indeed.

Today, I am grateful for:
1. Jamaican beef patties.
2. My family calling me in the am to wake me up. Because this means that someone is thinking of us and checking in on us.
3. Friendships that stand the test of time.

Toronto | Day 309 | October 5, 2019

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