11. Giving
8:28 am, Tuesday, 30 April
Back home. The break was too short but my experience with Yesh on the mountain is still as vivid as ever. I am not sure what happened. Dana is super supportive but I can see she is a little worried that maybe I'm losing it. Am I?
10:17 am, Tuesday, 30 April
Mom's condition is unchanged. I go to the hospital and sit quietly with her for an hour. She looks so peaceful lying there. She has always been the calming influence in our home. Dad is all over the place. He is either on fire for some new thing or he is depressed. I am a lot like Dad. My sister Zoe is a bit of a mixture. She can get super hyped about something but then suddenly be as cool and calm as ever. I really wish she was here. However she is away in Africa working as a volunteer in a hospital. She always is giving her time and energy to others. She phoned when mom had her stroke but dad convinced her not to come at the moment.
Dad arrives. He looks tired but he tells me to go as there is nothing I can do and he will stay.
As I leave the hospital I notice an old man, bent over with arthritis, slowly making his way up the ramp towards the front door. Normally I would ignore him. After all, I reason, he got this far by himself, and he probably knows how to get around and does not need any help. But Yesh's voice seems to resonate in my head. "A closed hand can never receive". I can feel the stone in my pocket.
I hurry over to the old man, and feeling a little embarrassed I say, "Excuse me, sorry..."
"You won't have to be sorry sonny," he interrupts in a gruff voice, "if you just get out of my way. So inconsiderate," he mumbles as he shuffles on. I'm left a bit flabbergasted. So much for trying to open my hand.
Dad arrives. He looks tired but he tells me to go as there is nothing I can do and he will stay.
As I leave the hospital I notice an old man, bent over with arthritis, slowly making his way up the ramp towards the front door. Normally I would ignore him. After all, I reason, he got this far by himself, and he probably knows how to get around and does not need any help. But Yesh's voice seems to resonate in my head. "A closed hand can never receive". I can feel the stone in my pocket.
I hurry over to the old man, and feeling a little embarrassed I say, "Excuse me, sorry..."
"You won't have to be sorry sonny," he interrupts in a gruff voice, "if you just get out of my way. So inconsiderate," he mumbles as he shuffles on. I'm left a bit flabbergasted. So much for trying to open my hand.
2:23 pm, Tuesday, 30 April
Yes! I have managed to get an interview at Advantage Media, a leading media and branding business. I think I would enjoy working there.
3:07 pm, Tuesday, 30 April
"Malo," Dana calls from the kitchen, "could you do me a favor?"
Without waiting for a reply she continues, "Could you go to the shops and get me some flour and baking powder. I've got to make cakes for the hospice cake sale tomorrow."
"Yeah, no problem," I reply. "I'm just finishing my portfolio for tomorrow. Shouldn't be long."
Without waiting for a reply she continues, "Could you go to the shops and get me some flour and baking powder. I've got to make cakes for the hospice cake sale tomorrow."
"Yeah, no problem," I reply. "I'm just finishing my portfolio for tomorrow. Shouldn't be long."
4:14 pm, Tuesday, 30 April
I hate going to the shops. There are always too many people here. I attempt my "duck and dash" maneuver. It's simple - pull up in the loading zone area at the back of the store, run in, pay, get back before anyone complains.
The plan is working well until I hit the checkout. Cleverly, like a fighter pilot, I zone in on the shortest line. All is great until the old lady in front of me dumps a pile of coins on the counter to pay for her items. I stare at this in horror. The cashier also looks a bit put out, but quietly begins to count them. After a minute I realize this is going to take ages.
"Here," I say, slamming a twenty on the counter. "Take this!" The cashier smiles a look of appreciation. I'm not sure what the old lady's look is - a mix between a smile and a grimace - sort of a constipated look.
I pay and race out to my car. I am about to jump in when I notice the old lady. She is sitting on a piece of cardboard, with her packet next to her, and what looks like a trolley with odds and ends in it.
"Oh well," I think to myself, "at least I opened my hand for her. My journey has begun."
The plan is working well until I hit the checkout. Cleverly, like a fighter pilot, I zone in on the shortest line. All is great until the old lady in front of me dumps a pile of coins on the counter to pay for her items. I stare at this in horror. The cashier also looks a bit put out, but quietly begins to count them. After a minute I realize this is going to take ages.
"Here," I say, slamming a twenty on the counter. "Take this!" The cashier smiles a look of appreciation. I'm not sure what the old lady's look is - a mix between a smile and a grimace - sort of a constipated look.
I pay and race out to my car. I am about to jump in when I notice the old lady. She is sitting on a piece of cardboard, with her packet next to her, and what looks like a trolley with odds and ends in it.
"Oh well," I think to myself, "at least I opened my hand for her. My journey has begun."
9:41 am, Wed, 1 May
I call the hospital to check on mom.
"Hold on I'll check," says the voice on the other side. She seems to take forever. Eventually she returns. "Sorry for the delay," she says, "I couldn't find her at first. Not your mother," she laughs, "but her record. Let me see...no, nothing changed. She is still asleep."
I hang up after thanking her and get my things ready for my interview with Advantage Media.
"Hold on I'll check," says the voice on the other side. She seems to take forever. Eventually she returns. "Sorry for the delay," she says, "I couldn't find her at first. Not your mother," she laughs, "but her record. Let me see...no, nothing changed. She is still asleep."
I hang up after thanking her and get my things ready for my interview with Advantage Media.
10:45 am, Wed, 1 May
I'm waiting in the reception area at Advantage Media. I like the trendy layout of their offices.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I reach for it and see, "Randle Calling". It's unbelievable. Not only is he irritating but he calls when I least want to speak to him, which I suppose is any time. I ignore his call.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I reach for it and see, "Randle Calling". It's unbelievable. Not only is he irritating but he calls when I least want to speak to him, which I suppose is any time. I ignore his call.
11:05 am, Wed, 1 May
"Welcome Mr. Bel," a lanky, blonde haired twenty something guy says, extending his hand. "I'm Justin. Glad you could make the time to come and see us. We've heard a lot about you."
Unlike the Pi experience, I follow Justin into his office. It has huge windows that are framed with actual picture frames to create the impression of a real painting. In one corner is a desk but otherwise the room is filled with three two-seater couches, and a large flat drawing table. It looks more like a home than an office. I like this place. It reminds me a lot of how our business was in the early days. We lost this along the way. Too focused on the prize, I suppose.
Unlike the Pi experience, I follow Justin into his office. It has huge windows that are framed with actual picture frames to create the impression of a real painting. In one corner is a desk but otherwise the room is filled with three two-seater couches, and a large flat drawing table. It looks more like a home than an office. I like this place. It reminds me a lot of how our business was in the early days. We lost this along the way. Too focused on the prize, I suppose.
2:09 pm, Wed, 1 May
The interview...or more like a conversation, went well. I am holding thumbs for this one.
11:17 am, Thu, 2 May
I drive to pick up toner for our printer. On the way I spot the old woman from the supermarket. She is pushing a broken trolley filled with her possessions. An unseasonably cold spell has brought wind and driving rain. She is bowed into the rain as she attempts to push her trolley up the road. It's almost as if I can suddenly feel the stone in my pocket.
"No, Lord. I've already helped her. She's already wet and I've just cleaned this car. Besides she probably doesn't want help, just like that other old guy."
"Oh whatever," I say pulling over and winding the window down a bit so I can speak without getting wet.
"Hi!" I shout to be heard above the wind. "Do you want a lift?"
The old lady stops her slow shuffle and turns her watery eyes towards me.
"What?" she croaks.
"I said, do you want a lift?" I am already regretting this.
"Yes," she replies and stands staring at me.
Now what am I meant to do. She’s got a whole trolley. That's not going to fit in my car.
I unlock the doors and shout, "Well jump in."
She just stands there.
"I can't take your trolley. Leave it and you can get it later. No one will touch it, not in this weather." And silently I add “And no one would want that pile of junk anyway.”
She just stands there.
"Oh Damn!" I exclaim, leaping out the car into the rain.
After getting totally drenched I finally manage to secure the trolley in the trunk with some rope I had. Which means, of course, the trunk is open and getting wet. The old woman slumps into the passenger seat bringing with her the rest of the water, ensuring the inside of the car is wet too.
I turn the heating system on full blast in an attempt to dry us out, but it's like drying a pool with a hair drier. Thankfully she is not much of a conversationalist, as I am irritated I decided to do this.
"Open the hand...sure thing Yesh," I mumble to myself.
"What's that deary?" she croaks.
I hate been called "deary", it reminds me of mothballs, stale cake and my great aunt Hilda.
I ignore her.
Finally I ask her, "Where do you want me to drop you?"
"Anywhere. Anywhere you like," she says.
How in the world does that help. It's pouring with rain. Where am I meant to drop her.
At home!
What!
Where did that random, ridiculous thought come from?
I am really, really regretting this open hand thing!
"No, Lord. I've already helped her. She's already wet and I've just cleaned this car. Besides she probably doesn't want help, just like that other old guy."
"Oh whatever," I say pulling over and winding the window down a bit so I can speak without getting wet.
"Hi!" I shout to be heard above the wind. "Do you want a lift?"
The old lady stops her slow shuffle and turns her watery eyes towards me.
"What?" she croaks.
"I said, do you want a lift?" I am already regretting this.
"Yes," she replies and stands staring at me.
Now what am I meant to do. She’s got a whole trolley. That's not going to fit in my car.
I unlock the doors and shout, "Well jump in."
She just stands there.
"I can't take your trolley. Leave it and you can get it later. No one will touch it, not in this weather." And silently I add “And no one would want that pile of junk anyway.”
She just stands there.
"Oh Damn!" I exclaim, leaping out the car into the rain.
After getting totally drenched I finally manage to secure the trolley in the trunk with some rope I had. Which means, of course, the trunk is open and getting wet. The old woman slumps into the passenger seat bringing with her the rest of the water, ensuring the inside of the car is wet too.
I turn the heating system on full blast in an attempt to dry us out, but it's like drying a pool with a hair drier. Thankfully she is not much of a conversationalist, as I am irritated I decided to do this.
"Open the hand...sure thing Yesh," I mumble to myself.
"What's that deary?" she croaks.
I hate been called "deary", it reminds me of mothballs, stale cake and my great aunt Hilda.
I ignore her.
Finally I ask her, "Where do you want me to drop you?"
"Anywhere. Anywhere you like," she says.
How in the world does that help. It's pouring with rain. Where am I meant to drop her.
At home!
What!
Where did that random, ridiculous thought come from?
I am really, really regretting this open hand thing!
12:31 pm, Thu, 2 May
Dana is making a cup of warm cocoa and handing it to the old woman. A pool of water has formed on the kitchen floor. Her trolley is parked in the corner, she insisted it come in too.
"Here we go," Dana says handing her the cocoa. "I will get some dry clothes for you," with which she is off leaving me wondering about why I did not get a cocoa.
I stomp off and have a warm shower and get dry clothes on. My car! Is it ever going to recover?
When I get downstairs Dana and the old woman are deep in conversation. I've had enough and I leave them at it. I retreat to my study for some solace.
"Here we go," Dana says handing her the cocoa. "I will get some dry clothes for you," with which she is off leaving me wondering about why I did not get a cocoa.
I stomp off and have a warm shower and get dry clothes on. My car! Is it ever going to recover?
When I get downstairs Dana and the old woman are deep in conversation. I've had enough and I leave them at it. I retreat to my study for some solace.
3:05 pm, Thu, 2 May
"Where is she?" I ask as I walk into the kitchen. Dana looks up from a list she is writing.
"Who? Oh Edna. She left." She returns to her list.
"What do you mean "she left"? That's it. Just pushed off?" I ask.
"Yes. She was dry. The rain stopped and she insisted that she wanted to go. She was a really interesting person to talk to. What a fascinating life. I'm pleased you decided to bring her. Didn't you find her story amazing?"
"Didn't have much chance to chat. It's hard to talk when you’re wet. Now I have to sort out my car," I grumble as I head towards the door.
"That was a really kind thing you did Malo," Dana calls after me.
"Whatever," I mumble in reply.
"Who? Oh Edna. She left." She returns to her list.
"What do you mean "she left"? That's it. Just pushed off?" I ask.
"Yes. She was dry. The rain stopped and she insisted that she wanted to go. She was a really interesting person to talk to. What a fascinating life. I'm pleased you decided to bring her. Didn't you find her story amazing?"
"Didn't have much chance to chat. It's hard to talk when you’re wet. Now I have to sort out my car," I grumble as I head towards the door.
"That was a really kind thing you did Malo," Dana calls after me.
"Whatever," I mumble in reply.
8:05 am, Fri, 3 May
Haven't heard anything from Advantage Media yet, but today I decide I will fix up some things around the home that Dana has been nagging me to do. I do the "duck and dash" and this time it goes well. However as I am reversing out of my parking I nearly slam into an emergency services vehicle that screeches to a halt next to me. Paramedics jump out and rush off around the side of the building. I get out to see what is happening.
I find the paramedic crouched over someone. A moment later he sits up and speaks into his radio, "Jane Doe is 10-40 confirmed, over." The radio crackles, "Got you Steve. I'll send the van".
"Hey what's happened?" I ask moving forward. The paramedic turns to look at me. "Nothing. Just another homeless person kicking the bucket," he replies.
I lean forward to see.
Like blood, the red flashing lights of the emergency vehicle pulsate on the pale face of the old homeless lady.
Shock sweeps over me.
Flash…flash paints the red light. Just yesterday I helped her.
Flash…flash paints the red light.
"But, I don't understand," I mumble. "What happened? How did she die?"
"Exposure, old age, disease, malnutrition - take your pick," the paramedic replies in a disinterested voice.
I find the paramedic crouched over someone. A moment later he sits up and speaks into his radio, "Jane Doe is 10-40 confirmed, over." The radio crackles, "Got you Steve. I'll send the van".
"Hey what's happened?" I ask moving forward. The paramedic turns to look at me. "Nothing. Just another homeless person kicking the bucket," he replies.
I lean forward to see.
Like blood, the red flashing lights of the emergency vehicle pulsate on the pale face of the old homeless lady.
Shock sweeps over me.
Flash…flash paints the red light. Just yesterday I helped her.
Flash…flash paints the red light.
"But, I don't understand," I mumble. "What happened? How did she die?"
"Exposure, old age, disease, malnutrition - take your pick," the paramedic replies in a disinterested voice.
9:10 am, Fri, 3 May
I'm sitting in my car.
They've taken her body.
"Lord! What's the point?" I ask. "Why get me to help her if you're taking her life anyway. Forget this. I tried. I can't do this. I can't. I give in!"
Just then I notice her trolley pushed against the wall. No one thought to take it. It's just a pile of junk anyway. No one cares. But for that old lady it was her life. I get out of the car and walk over to the trolley.
It's filled with all sorts of odds and ends. An old blanket, some old clothes, a chipped china tea set - I wonder why she had that - not like she could sit down for a cup of tea. An old porcelain doll, a faded black and white photo of a young lady holding a baby - maybe it was her. A small painting of a house and a garden. I pick up the painting, This is all that is left of her. All her worldly possessions. The things that were important to her. And no one cares. She is just another body in a bag.
I'm about to put the painting down when I see it. Small but unmistakable. In the tree of the painting is a beautiful orange and blue sunbird.
They've taken her body.
"Lord! What's the point?" I ask. "Why get me to help her if you're taking her life anyway. Forget this. I tried. I can't do this. I can't. I give in!"
Just then I notice her trolley pushed against the wall. No one thought to take it. It's just a pile of junk anyway. No one cares. But for that old lady it was her life. I get out of the car and walk over to the trolley.
It's filled with all sorts of odds and ends. An old blanket, some old clothes, a chipped china tea set - I wonder why she had that - not like she could sit down for a cup of tea. An old porcelain doll, a faded black and white photo of a young lady holding a baby - maybe it was her. A small painting of a house and a garden. I pick up the painting, This is all that is left of her. All her worldly possessions. The things that were important to her. And no one cares. She is just another body in a bag.
I'm about to put the painting down when I see it. Small but unmistakable. In the tree of the painting is a beautiful orange and blue sunbird.