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Wednesday, May 02, 2018

Words For My Friend

It's taken me a few days to write this post. I'm not sure I can do the subject justice, but I shall endeavor to do a good job.

I awakened Sunday morning to find that a very good, long-time friend had died. It wasn't completely unexpected, he'd had health problems the past 10 years, heart attacks and such, but it was a blow. A major blow.

Reg was one of my first friends on AOL. We met in a chatroom, traveled through many together and with our little cohort. We even had a little private room for us when things got crazy in the political chats. To me, he was the king of the NewsRoom. He was there most evenings. If I am not mistaken, my sister introduced us. For the past 20-odd years, I had spoken to Reg on nearly a daily basis.

About 15 years ago, Reg had a heart attack. At that point we had a daily email thread with many of us from AOL and we all got worried when we couldn't contact him. We finally found out that he'd been hospitalized and was in serious danger. Until that point, none of us had any idea of his health problems.

Reg worked for the parks department in the city where he lived.He had funny stories to tell about goings on in the parks he oversaw. But, more than that, Reg saw the moral rot at the bottom of the Progressivism taking over Canadian Politics.

He had a clear view of the East vs West dichotomy in Canadian Politics. After we invaded Iraq after 9-11, he sent me an Op-Ed from the Edmonton paper wherein the author of the piece begged President Bush to invade Alberta, they had oil, too. Making fun of the Left's argument for the only reason we went to Iraq.

He was good at spotting stuff like that in his daily read of the paper. A few years earlier he had sent me a tribute to a photojournalist who had just died. I can't remember the guy's name and I wish I could because it was a beautiful piece. The photojournalist had received a ton of flack for his pictures of Soviet Russia. His editors were angry that everything looked so famously shabby and frankly, awful.

The man told his editors that he could not pretend he didn't see what he had actually seen with his own eyes. His editors were angry that they could not force him to not tell the truth about what he'd seen. The story was published with his pictures and extreme prejudice of the editing pencil.

That was Reg, in a nutshell. He could never imagine not explaining what he'd seen with his own eyes as something other than what he'd actually seen. He was a straight shooter. The best one.

As a friend, Reg was the same. He talked to me through a bad divorce and came to visit me after I'd remarried. He stayed with us and we ordered in pizza and watched cheesy movies and it was fun. So much fun. He bravely slept on our sofa bed and my girls liked him. Anyone who buys them pizza is well-liked.

I never got to see him again. Life happens. I finally got him on Facebook and I was friends with his niece because I didn't want the horror of him disappearing again. It's funny that I discovered his death through a mutual friend rather than his family I was friends with. I will admit, I shut down when I read the announcement. Simply put, I never thought, even with all the foreshadowing, that I would ever live in a world without Reg in it. We spoke nearly daily.

Reg was my touchstone. I would discuss things with him to make sure my head was right. Sometimes he agreed with me, other times he didn't. When he didn't he would sent me links to stories that would show me where my thinking went wrong. He was a a rock when I lost my son and understood when I didn't talk to anyone for months. I couldn't. He was there when I could, welcoming me back with his understanding.

My husband thought he was nice, but, in typical fashioned, side-eyed him because he was another male I held great affection for. But, I think his visit helped to show him, we were great friends, the best.

I often joked that I would sponsor him to move to America, knowing he never would. He was a proud Canadian. You can tell by his posts online that he was. Nobody could be disgusted with something to that degree without loving it first, and foremost. He wanted better for Canada than Canadians wanted for themselves. He railed against the numerous separatist movements from Quebec, against the creeping progressivism of the government, the speech codes and ultimately, the election of Baby Trudeau as PM a few years back.

I think, until the past year, he always thought Canada would find its way back to normalcy. The piling on of Jordan Peterson, the ridiculousness of Trudeau, especially overseas, recently showed him that perhaps he was wrong.

I would send him links to Molson's old "I Am Canadian" beer commercials. We both laughed hard at them. Our biggest joke in chats was asking about Office Glen. He had a wild sense of humor. I will miss it. I don't get down often, but he usually always pulled me out. The only failure being my depression after losing my son.

Writing this and thinking about the years I'd known him helped a lot. Many memories came up that I'd stowed away in some mental closet somewhere. They all brought a smile and some sadness. I will never, ever have those moments with him again. But, I do have the memories. They are good memories.

I will miss you, Reg. You were someone very much worth knowing.

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