written Sept 7, 2018 and I cannot write anymore… and due to muddled brain SEQUENCE MAY NOT BE EXACT.

“Ok so you think I am fine. Caution for what you are about to read.

Almost three weeks ago, was it really that long?, I walk up to the house to find Brendan bolting out the front door. Him clearing the deck in what seemed to be two steps and quickly telling me to follow him speaking in a manner I have never seen him do before. I follow puzzled, all I could really make out of what he said was “Gypsy, car, now!!!!” I follow by the end of the driveway he tells me what is happening, hands me his phone and I dial 911.

Whilst giving information to them I could not believe how little “accurate” knowledge I had. Like your street address, the proper spelling of your legal name, your age. How stupid is that my friend? I knew you as long as most at the Knoll. I was one of two of the first people to meet you on this land. How can I not have known this? I helped you move into that house!

While on the phone with 911 I gave what information I could, they said they had the information they needed and were on the phone with MA as well. They advised us police were on the way, gave instruction on what not to do, asked for a number to reachg us back at if need be as it did not come up properly and I forgot I was not on my phone and gave my number not Brendans by mistake. Again how stupid was that!

We get to the house, truck is not visible…. rush to the door of the house.. it is locked. Brendan looks at me and says “Break down the door” I put my shoulder into it and hit it once … does not budge, a second time, it groaned third time success. I run through the house calling your name, flipping on lights and checking rooms. You are no where to be seen. I run outside and exlaim to Brendan “I can’t find him” as Brendan comes around from the back of the house indicating the truck is behind it.

At that moment one, then two and then a third cruiser shows up. AN officer comes up to us asking if we know where you are, Brendan points to the back of the house stating in the truck behind the house. We are instructed to stay where we are. They proceed to the back of the house.

I hear a clank on glass followed by a second, then glass shattering, then glass shattering twice more, a moment or two passes. An officer runs back to car and grabs medical pack and proceeds back to the truck. Another officer runs back to his cruiser and brings it to the back yard.

The first responder paramedic shows up, followed by the ambulance.
Over what seemed like 30 minutes the officers come by and ask questions, any known allergies, medications, medical conditions etc etc. They have not left yet. I look at Brendan. The realist in me kicks in I think I said something to the effect of “he is gone”. Brendan looked at me, replied “no if they have not left yet that is a good thing!” More time passes.

An officer walks by talking on his radio I hear “alright we need to notify next of kin” He looks over at us, I suppose we both had that question burned on our faces. He shakes his head. I recall looking at Brendan at that moment. Both our knees buckled a little.

Somewhere in all of this after knowing details through question and answers I walk into the kitchen of the house and see things on the counter that I paid no attention to earlier when I was there. Now my eyes cannot unsee them, my mind has conjured up images through the knowing and it will not forget.

AS we waited for the coroner to show up two of the three cruisers left to go speak with Juni. We chatted with the officer left on scene, the truck still illuminated, your body laying next to it. Another image burned into my brain that I will never unsee.”

Who was Brigid?

In ancient Irish mythology, Brigid was a fire goddess. Medieval art historian Pamela Berger argues that Christian monks “took the ancient figure of the mother goddess and grafted her name and functions onto her Christian counterpart”

This is where I stand on the Goddess known as Brigid.
Continue reading “Imbolg, Brigid’s Day” →

The next few days were a wash of occurences. My parents were devastated as you would imagine. I felt out of place, or more so displaced. My brother and I shared a room when I was at home. I lost my bedroom, it became a shrine to my brother. I was shunted out into the rec room and for the first while slept on the couch. I was not allowed in what used to be “my room”

The first few hours being at home I learned the details of what happened in the accident. My brother met up with friends, as it was Friday they were planning a party for the week-end. As per normal he met up with the guy who had the car. My brother along with four other people crammed them selves into a 1978 Chevy Malibu. My brother because he got to the car first and had the most gas money to offer had the priviledge of sitting shot gun Their first stop was Epicerie Dubeaus on the Quebec side to buy booze. then home.

Jan 25th, 1985 that day was a typical late January warm spell. Coolish winds fast enough to cause snow to drift, but the sun warm enough and bright enough thaT IF you were standing in a windbreak that was not shaded from the it was actually quite warm. An awesome day to be down hill skiing as long as you were wearing sunglasses so you were not blinded by the sun.

My brother as I said was sitting shot gun. Apparently sitting cross ways in the front seat to talk to the passengers in the rear. He was wearing his seat belt. This is a signifigant thing, my Brother absolutely hated wearing seat belts. He was a firm believer that seat belts take lives not save them. But for some reason this day he was wearing one, little did he know if indeed he had not been he might still be alive today.

As they travelled the road home they came up to the Five Mile crossing. A set of railroad tracks that were in a smallish valley in the road, it did not matter which side you approached it from you were going slightly downhill. It met the road on a 30 degree angle, and was not flush with the road meaning one side of the tracks sat flush the other side sat about two inches higher forming a slight bump. The only way to cross this set of tracks and not have your car pitch was to swerve slightly as you get to it and try to minimize the angle of going over them. This particualr day as mentioned earlier was warm with drifing snow. This stretch of road was snow covered slush that was about two inches deep. I do not know exaclty how but the driver of the car that Steve was in lost control of the car going over the tracks. It Spun side ways, Passenger side now facing the oncoming traffick hitting the K-Car coming from the opposite direction. I do not know if both cars were still doing highway speed at the time or not. I do know that the front passenger door of the malibu took the full impact of hitting the K-car across the front end. The malibu spun around the K-car its passenger side again hit the ass end of the K-car. The 4 occupants of the K-car died on scene. My Brother received a crushed pelvis, ruptured spleen and kidneys, broken arm, and head trauma. It took first responders a while to get my brother out of the car, he was trapped between the steering wheel and the passenger door which was now sitting almost at the middle of the car. The seat belt held him in place. If he had not been wearing it he may have had a chance because he would have pushed aside instead of being pinned by it.
All for now. this took nearly two hours to write….

My first rodeo, never again so I hoped but alas not by far.

I am going to take a journey back in my life, January 25th 1985.  I was 15 years old at that time, living in a group home.  It was the tail end of exams. This particular day I did not have an exam to write and I had no particular reason to go into school other than to meet up with friends and go out partying.

AS previously stated I was living in a group home, I was not the good son, not even close.  That was my older brother Steven who was 1 month shy of his 18th.  Steve was the type of child any parent would want.  Good in sports, musically  talented, a good actor, well rounded student and everyone who met him liked him. Unlike myself who struggled in school, struggled at being the good son and my friends at the time lets just say they were not the popular or pretty ones with good grades.   Most of the friends Steve made at high school were not even aware that he had a brother named Kevin even and we went to the same High School.

I remember that day as if it happened yesterday.   I hung around school either in the Smoking area or cafeteria because exams were still going on I could not roam the halls until about 11:30 which is when the days first exams ended.  I remember scooting to my locker to grab a few things and ran into my brother.  He was alone so he actually stopped to talk to me for once  we had a good chat, it was odd, we never had decent words to say to each other.  He took off in a hurry as the lunch bell rang mumbling something about catching a ride and wanting to get the front seat for a change.  I took off and met friends, then spent the afternoon at my buddies place bombing around on his snowmobile until we ran out of gas, then back to school so I could catch my bus to the group home.

I remember getting off the bus and as I walked in the lane way I noticed there were more cars there than should have been.  More staff on hand than need be.  My worker was there.  It was his day off. “meh” i thought to myself, “probably a new kid coming in”

I was greeted at the door by Tom the facility manager and my worker Ron.   They asked me where I was that afternoon as they were trying to get hold of me at school and could not because I did not have any exams that day.   My first thought was “busted no week end privileges”     but then the words came out  “Your brother has been in an accident” they said “he is in the hospital” , “Go pack a bag we are taking you to your parents”

My world screeched to a halt.

The half hour drive to my folks house was a blur, although my impressions were that when I got home my parents would be taking me to the hospital so a could see my brother.  Tom would not elaborate on what happened al he knew according to him was Steve was in an accident some time around noon and was in the hospital.  it was now approaching 4:30.

We pull into the driveway and there are a few extra vehicles. Tom goes to the door first and I enter afterwards.  I remember the odd looks on my parents faces.  I remember saying something akin to “ok so are we going to the hospital?”   and my dad angrily looking at tom replying “you didn’t tell him?”  and Tom looking at me shaking his head saying “I thought it best that you tell him”

At that moment my mother burst into tears “Steve died”

I felt like I had been hit by a freight train…  only to be hit many more times in the days to come.  But that is for Another Post.

Thanks for joining me! I am just getting back into blogging after many years of not having the time to do so.

First things first, I believe in the Canadian Pagan Declaration on Intolerance. If you are not familiar with the tenants it ascribes to Please familiarize your self with it. It may be viewed here http://www.pagandeclaration.com/ Many people I consider friends worked hard and long piecing together this declaration and my hat is tipped to them.

Over time I hope to impart a little of me on the face of the internet. for now this little bit will suffice.   In future days I will be updating some other parts of the site, like the “about me” but for now I bid you good eve.

Be well and Be excellent to each other

The Unplugged Pagan