GOING BACK FOR DAVID
Last summer, we introduced BIGLOVEBALL to Vancouver Downtown Eastside at the corner of Hastings and Main. This notorious neighbourhood is a home and crossroads to the many Vancouverites surviving off the grid. To an onlooker, Hastings street seems inside out. Life and death happen outside of buildings, eroding like decayed teeth. Booze halls lean on safe injection sites which lean on small, thick skinned grocers. Police cars and ambulances buzz like angry hornets at all hours. To exist, people give what they have for what they need. Money is scarce and life is hard in this neck of the woods, and we arrived with good intention without expectation. This location is personal to me. Many years ago, my struggling older brother David walked deep into the heart of this hood and i did not follow. David was a charismatic and intelligent teen whom i idolized throughout our youth. Full of life and confidence, he shone always. Academically gifted and athletically strong, my brother was the number one pick for everyones string. He was also an empath whose sensitivity worked on overdrive. David protected the underdog and practiced inclusion in every moment. Somewhere in his twenties, David succumbed to ongoing circumstances that would keep us apart. Our family divided and contact ceased. After two decades i stopped looking for his pale blonde head of hair while speeding along Hastings if I absolutely had too. A few years ago, another family member was diagnosed with a serious illness. I watched loved ones rally around her and i too was devastated. It was at that time I began to ponder the difference between her suffering and David’s. Both were experiencing betrayal by their bodies and minds and would have to fight. Both deserved the support and love of family.
I went back
for David.
The next morning I put my daughter in the car, without knowing how or where we would find him. Over the next two years, David and I relearned to be siblings. Without sifting through the past or aggrandizing the future, we were grateful for the moments in our hands. We spent time in my world and we spent time in his. We laughed while trying on each others vocabulary and were moved while in the presence of grace. A ride around the Stanley Park Seawall became a daily ritual. We would pedal along the ocean, reverting to the dynamic of our childhood David strong and sure, with me in tow. It was during this time that i had my a ha moment. Sometimes I have a moment of panic just before unveiling BIGLOVEBALL in a public place. I wonder if I have finally gone off the deep end. This day on the Downtown Eastside was no exception. Maybe I felt a bit safer with my brother there that day. But as we rolled our pod of balls out into the neighbourhood, we were instantly met with the usual playfulness and curiosity in between sideways glances. Like anywhere else we’ve been, people just wanted to play and to pose with BIGLOVEBALL. It was that simple. I will forever remember watching David tenderly wipe a smudge from a BIGLOVEBALL with the corner of his t-shirt. I am never certain when or where I will see David next but I do know that I have a generous stash of shared moments tucked deep in my pockets, and so does he.
While I thought I was going back for David, he was coming back for me.
I LOVE YOU THAT WAY
Last summer, we introduced BIGLOVEBALL to Vancouver Downtown Eastside at the corner of Hastings and Main. This notorious neighbourhood is a home and crossroads to the many Vancouverites surviving off the grid. To an onlooker, Hastings street seems inside out. Life and death happen outside of buildings, eroding like decayed teeth. Booze halls lean on safe injection sites which lean on small, thick skinned grocers. Police cars and ambulances buzz like angry hornets at all hours. To exist, people give what they have for what they need. Money is scarce and life is hard in this neck of the woods, and we arrived with good intention without expectation. This location is personal to me. Many years ago, my struggling older brother David walked deep into the heart of this hood and i did not follow. David was a charismatic and intelligent teen whom i idolized throughout our youth. Full of life and confidence, he shone always. Academically gifted and athletically strong, my brother was the number one pick for everyones string. He was also an empath whose sensitivity worked on overdrive. David protected the underdog and practiced inclusion in every moment. Somewhere in his twenties, David succumbed to ongoing circumstances that would keep us apart. Our family divided and contact ceased. After two decades i stopped looking for his pale blonde head of hair while speeding along Hastings if I absolutely had too. A few years ago, another family member was diagnosed with a serious illness. I watched loved ones rally around her and i too was devastated. It was at that time I began to ponder the difference between her suffering and David’s. Both were experiencing betrayal by their bodies and minds and would have to fight. Both deserved the support and love of family.
I went back
for David.
The next morning I put my daughter in the car, without knowing how or where we would find him. Over the next two years, David and I relearned to be siblings. Without sifting through the past or aggrandizing the future, we were grateful for the moments in our hands. We spent time in my world and we spent time in his. We laughed while trying on each others vocabulary and were moved while in the presence of grace. A ride around the Stanley Park Seawall became a daily ritual. We would pedal along the ocean, reverting to the dynamic of our childhood David strong and sure, with me in tow. It was during this time that i had my a ha moment. Sometimes I have a moment of panic just before unveiling BIGLOVEBALL in a public place. I wonder if I have finally gone off the deep end. This day on the Downtown Eastside was no exception. Maybe I felt a bit safer with my brother there that day. But as we rolled our pod of balls out into the neighbourhood, we were instantly met with the usual playfulness and curiosity in between sideways glances. Like anywhere else we’ve been, people just wanted to play and to pose with BIGLOVEBALL. It was that simple. I will forever remember watching David tenderly wipe a smudge from a BIGLOVEBALL with the corner of his t-shirt. I am never certain when or where I will see David next but I do know that I have a generous stash of shared moments tucked deep in my pockets, and so does he.
While I thought I was going back for David, he was coming back for me.
