Thanks to Pete and David, plus post-celebration fugue

So - along with my girlfriend, her parents, various former building managers and current tenants, and some old friends of mine - Pete Campbell and David M. came down to Maple Ridge the other day to perform at my Mom's Celebration of Life, on the 11th floor of the building where she and my father had lived since the 1990's. Ozzy the dog kept time, as best he could, with his barks, and brought some therapeutic cheer to a building that is actually supposed to be pet-free, approaching various people with his saliva-soaked yellow ball to play with him (none doing so more enthusiastically than a drunk tenant who, it turns out, didn't even know my Mom). About twenty people were there, all told, a few of them singing along, as suits Pete's "Sing Along With Pete" modus operandi. It was a pretty positive, fun event, and people seemed to find it touching, which is pretty good, considering I was mostly faking it, barely present, running on duty and fumes...

Y'see, I have been somewhat emotionally disconnected these last few days. Exhaustion, a bit of depression, and a foggy confusion about what to do next are taking their toll, to say nothing of worries about money and career and, well, this huge recent loss in my life of my mother, who was supposed to make it out of the hospital, and whose departure leaves me too aware of the many ways I failed her over the years. But I was jocular, made a little speech that got a few laughs, and gave out keepsakes, several of which were hoarded by said drunken tenant who didn't even know my Mom. In particular, everyone in the room got playing cards that my parents had dozens of in storage, and I passed out paste bead necklaces that Mom had accumulated on her many US casino trips (I always figured giving cheap beads to white people was a way the First Nations owners of those casinos could slyly take a poke at colonial history, but Mom had hundreds of them stored up, and I made sure everybody got a few, including David and Pete, below). Snacks were served, people besides me got to share their memories of both my parents, and then there was a set of really delightful, crowd-pleasing songs from the guys... 

Pete Campbell and David M, photo by Elizabeth Bachinsky, I think!

Almost every song Pete did - including two Kenny Rogers and one Roger Whittaker - was something that Mom and I actually listened to in the hospital in the last weeks of her life (actually he picked a different Roger Whittaker song from the one that Mom liked, doing "The Last Farewell" instead of "You Needed Me," but it was one *I* like better, and no one else was the wiser, so that was fine with me; I probably would have choked up at "You Needed Me," anyhow, and maybe didn't actually deserve it, because Mom HAD needed me, and while I don't want to exactly say I failed her, she isn't around anymore, so...). David did a couple of other things, like a reworking of "Going Down to Liverpool" into "Going Down to Maple Ridge," a cover of "Viva Las Vegas," and the newest addition to his small salute to David Bowie, "Kooks," which he'll be performing July 2nd as part of a full set of Bowie songs at Music Madhouse Records, out near Lougheed Mall. Then the two joined together for, among other songs, "Ob-La-Di Ob-La-da," which Mom and I listened to in the hospital more than once, on one of the mixes we had, and "Why Me Lord," which I told the crowd I'd been delighted to hear Mom singing along to when she and I and Erika went to see Kris Kristofferson, last time he was in town. Then they ended with "You Are My Sunshine," a rather loaded song for a few people concerned, which my parents had sung to me when I was sick in the hospital as a child, and which I sang in turn to Mom at her bedside several times, especially when I was really afraid for her. (My girl cried during that one, but I didn't; I've cried plenty enough with that song for the time being). I was glad the guys came down, and really enjoyed their songs, and our post-celebration meal at the Billy Miner Pub, one of the nicest places in Maple Ridge to have a meal and a beer.

Anyhow, I kinda sat down to write a whiny, self-pitying thing about how lost I feel and how much I feel like I failed both my parents, but... no, it's a crappy trough to drag myself through, and it takes away from the efforts other people made to make the day a success, which it was, so to heck with me. Everyone involved seemed to find the celebration touching, people who knew and loved both my mother and father got to remember them together, and those who just came for the free food and music got plenty of both. Plus, I mean, I'll pull through - how cheerful can I be expected to be after the last few months? Mom's gone, and I miss her, and I don't know what to do with myself now, but hey, here's life, going on.

So thanks to Erika and Linda and Peter, and Liz and Blake, and Pete and David and Ozzy, and to everyone in the building who turned up, especially Alice, even though they'll never actually read this. Even the drunk, who, if for nothin' else, made the day much more fun for Ozzy. It was a good celebration. I wish I'd been a better son.