February 9, 2010

The Ties that Bind - However Loosely



I have a beautiful scarf. It is handwoven of hand-dyed silk threads in rich tones of copper, gold, purple, fuscia, and blue. It is just the right weight to add a little warmth, but not too much. It goes well with black, brown, and blue and dresses up jeans and a sweater (which pretty much describes my wardrobe). I always receive plenty of compliments when I wear it, and I wear it a lot this time of year. There is just one problem with my favourite scarf. It isn't really mine.


Twenty-odd years ago its owner adopted me as a friend. I had known Dawn for a few years, but not well. She was a year behind me in school and was friends with some of my friends. I remember going to some kind of production at the Capitol Theatre and she was there, too. She came up to me afterwards and announced she was pregnant, and thought I would like to know. I'm not sure why she thought I would like to know, but I took it as a gesture of good will, gave her a hug, and told her I was here for her if she needed me.


Dawn was not married or even in a relationship anymore at the time. She was living with her mom, who is a lovely, supportive kind of woman, so Dawn was certainly not alone. We began spending time together, cooking exotic food, going to movies and parties, going for walks and out for tea. And we talked - a lot. She was having a dilemma: should she keep and raise the baby she was carrying, or give her up for adoption. She happened to have some family friends, a couple unable to conceive, interested in an open adoption. If Dawn gave the baby to be raised by this couple, she would be able to be a part of her life without the immense responsibility of raising her alone as a young, single mother. I believe I stayed neutral, and told Dawn that it was her choice and for the rest of her life, so she had better make it for herself. I just asked questions to try and encourage her to consider all sides of the issue. In the end she decided to give the baby to her friends, who let her name it. They added Dawn as a second name.


With the baby safely born and well settled in her home, Dawn decided to carry on with her plans to go to India for a year and volunteer in a Buddhist orphanage. I went off to University in Vancouver, having done with my local college.


A year and a few months later, I got a call. Dawn was back in Canada and wanted to visit me at my brother's rooming house where I was living. It was not a good time for her to come. I was going through a hard time - a very hard time. I was seriously questioning the career path I had chosen for myself, I was finding my living situation very lonely as my brother worked seven days on, seven days off at a group home for troubled teens and had a girlfriend on Vancouver Island so was never home, my boyfriend was in an intense college course and had much less time for sad, confused little me - although he did what he could, and I was considering dropping out of school altogether until I figured out what to do next. Dawn came anyway, and I did want to see her again, but she was not in any better shape than I, in fact she was in worse shape. She had given her baby to another mother to raise because she felt she had so much to do in life, and now, she admitted to me, she was questioning her decision. She was depressed, and desperate to talk about it, but I was depressed, too and too saturated with my own problems to take her troubles on board - I had no room for them, and I was not mature enough at the time to know how to make room.


I remember trying to explain myself to her, but she didn't, or couldn't understand. In fact Dawn started crying and shouting at the same time about how I was shutting her out, didn't care, and then she said those three little words that usually signify the end of a relationship: "You have changed". She left the next day. I saw her a few more times after that and there were gestures of friendship on both sides. When Dawn went again to India she sent me five yards of ivory cream silk, which I later had made into my wedding suit, and we met from time to time when both of us were in our hometown, but it was never to be the same as it had once been.


Somehow, in the middle of everything, I ended up with Dawn's beautiful scarf. I don't remember her giving it to me, I am quite sure she left it with me by accident. Dawn moved away from our hometown and we lost touch, but I have never sent the scarf to her care of her mother because I am afraid that would somehow signify a permanent rejection, like sending an ex all their letters. Rather, even though I love wearing it and think of Dawn every time I do, I would be happy to see her by chance on the street of our hometown some time; I would take the scarf off my own neck and and wrap it around her in acknowledgement of the good times we had together when she needed my friendship and I had what it took to fulfill that need with gladness.

20 comments:

  1. I find that depression has this nasty habit of being contagious. I'm not talking about the constant clinical depression but that depression which is physical. The sort of extended grief over a lost love, or lost what ever it is. I think it's due to the universality of these situations. They tend to have rails also, for once you are on this trip it is almost impossible to halt it. But when there are two the thing feeds on each. However, I believe that it is not the depression that destroys friendships and marriages but in not recognising there is a reason therapists have set times for the session.

    Way-hey, there is a an Irish women's Bob-sled team. Something not so foolish this year. But Oh Lordy is it ripe for wordplay on that film Cool Runnings*.

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  2. I remember weakened friendships like that through strange little 'triggers' - washing my hair is one odd example, because it reminds me of a conversation which went badly. To have your scarf both as a trigger and as a sign you could use to recover some of the friendship is quite postive, isn't it? Even for me, I think of the 'triggers' as a chance to pray for the friends who have less of a part in my life now.

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  3. This is such a beautiful, but sad story. I hope your wish comes true and the scarf can be one day returned to Dawn.

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  4. Vince: I like how you put that. And it is true, I think. Ours was a friendship that had a 'best before' date, I believe.

    An Irish bobsled team? I'll be looking out for it. That would indeed be a great movie with sort of a 'Waking Ned Devine' flavour, don't you think? :)

    Floss: I would have to agree with you, too, and I'll have to remember to pray for her. Lovely thought.

    Dive girl: Thank-you. I hope so, too, even if she says, "keep it".

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  5. I love wearing scarves too and have a similar multi-hued one that goes with almost anything in my wardrobe, but not such a bitter-sweet story to go with it. Some friends fill a specific time and need, others are for life but all bless our lives and leave an imprint.

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  6. I have "broken up" with more girlfriends than I car to mention. I am a hard friend. Or I used to be. But I know that about myself now. I wish I could go back and tell all those women that I am sorry, I was just immature and clueless. I never got to keep such a nice scarf though. :)

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  7. Rebecca, the scarf is a reminder of your friendship...although no longer flourishing your memories are secure and maybe one day you will give it back with great thanks for the enjoyment it has brought to you.

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  8. Diane: And time helps us realize just what that imprint will 'look like'.

    Tracey: I wasn't a hard friend, but I was sometimes a callous one. Having children has made me realise so many things about myself that needed adjusting. I'm so thankful.

    Jill: Thanks for stopping by! Another good thought.

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  9. Amasing that you should mention that film. Merril Streep sang 'the Parting Glass' for her friend Natasha Richardson Neeson last evening. At the request of her mother. Odd eh.

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  10. I am a huge fan of Meryl Streep and I bet she sang that beautifully. I wonder if I can see it on youtube? She made Abba songs incredibly meaningful in Mamma Mia, for Pete's sake!
    I am also a big fan of Irish film so often have one not so far from the forefront of my mind. Speaking of films, have you seen 'Answer Man' with Jeff Daniels? I saw that last night. Good movie.

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  11. Nope, but then I not so sure it has come over. We only get 40% of what you get.

    it is not on utube so far.

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  12. Who would ever expect a scarf to hold such memories! Wonderful story you have shared here and I hope that Dawn has found peace.

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  13. This is a bittersweet story. I think you were meant to be there for her when she was going through her pregnancy. Reminds me of the saying "some friends are there for a reason or a season".

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  14. Welcome, Lady Cat! I think, after all this time that I have realised that what you say is true. 'To everything there is a season,' and some are longer than others.

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  15. Off topic a bit, I know that there are large numbers of French speakers just north of the border of Idaho in Canada. But is it at all credible that there are French communities in Idaho.
    I mention this simply because if you are about to 'protect' Haitian toddlers one would certainly expect a level of French far beyond the savagery that passes for high school French. If for instance those people were from Gaspé or Louisiana it would seem a bit more plausible.

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  16. Vince: I wish Canada was truly bilingual, but apart from a few pockets and two provinces we aren't. I'm pretty sure there are no such pockets in Idaho. If there are they are probably composed of French speaking immigrants. I'm not sure of what you are speaking of exactly - regarding Haitian toddlers, but communication with them in fluent French hardly seems necessary to look after their basic needs, unless communication with Haitian authorities is required to do it properly.

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  17. Sorry, my comment was about the people from Idaho that were arrested crossing the border into the Dominican Republic with the kids. So, it is not just basic needs, this is a change of the function language for the kids from French to English

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  18. Okay, now I get it. I did some hunting on this story on the weekend and couldn't find any updates. The whole scenario sounds odd to me, but I do know that overzealousness to do 'good' can make people act irrationally. And not only were the Idahoans taking them from their French-speaking nation, they were taking them into a Spanish-speaking orphanage in the D.R.

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  19. What ?????????. I thought you would be over at Whistler. I was watching the opening, My but you did a good job.

    On the Idahoans, I'm with you in not ascribing malaise for I think they thought that they were doing good.
    But I'm glad you are as mystified as I am.

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I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks!