One of the reasons I am writing this blog is to find something everyday that is new to me..again. I want to look at things again, to come to things again and see something that was there but not obvious, or maybe hidden. Today was one of those days. Watching the annual Labour Day parada as it made its way down Dufferin throught the Gates to the CNE, I saw all the unioized workers who serve us..and there was something that struck me and made me tear up unexpectedly...The UFCW was marching by..(I had to ask who they were..Union of Food and Commercial Workers) aka as those who pick our fruits and vegetables... there were so many of them..and I looked at their faces...they were almost to a person "people of colour"..Jamaicans,West Indians, Mexicans, Central Americans, South Asians..More important I realized they were probably the most poorly paid and least secure, the ones most in need of unions..and I also knew that 50 years ago ..even less, those people would have been my parents, Italians, Polish, Slovenians, all those who came to Canada after the war and worked in the mines, the factories And it made me think of family, of my own growing up.
Then, out of the crowd, came my Wounded Healer, my dear friend Miguel. His wife Trish had phoned me last night when she heard my cancer news and we had a long beautiful conversation. Miguel is a union leader with the Hospitality workers..the chambermaids, the cleaners in hotels and all the buildings, jobs that old Canadians don't like to do anymore. Miguel came to Canada as a political refugee to escape the death squads in Guatemala. Today he has a kind of inoperable lung cancer that needs a miracle. We had already talked about this these last few weeks. He came over to Prill, Lorna and me and hugged me and said, "Don't forget, Lauretta, we are fighting today, fighting for our lives And we won't give up. Don't give up. We keep going every day.." I can't remember every word...I just remember Miguel and the intensity with which he embraced me and came to give me courage and hope about our now common situation even though he knews his own state is more precarious. And as he left to rejoin his marching union brothers and sisters, it was the second time I cried this Labour day.
Lauretta, twice I tried to leave a comment last night, and my stupid laptop somehow erased them. I wanted to make the observation that during tough times, we so often see metaphors for our situation - much more so than when times are good. We become the bird fighting for shelter, the flower trying to find the light, the tree bracing against the wind. In tough times, I've felt like metaphors for our situation poured out of me - some pretty hokey, but all very appropriate to me at the time.
ReplyDeleteI think your entry today makes the same point. You're in a tough place and suddenly your senses are sharpened to pick up and identify with every struggle you see around you.
Do you thnk that perhaps it serves a purpose, this universal struggle that we often feel so connected to? If nothing else, maybe it helps us feel less alone. Jean Vanier says that it is in embracing our humanity that we are made human - and I guess that is the bittersweet of it.
Keep the thoughts coming, Lauretta. XO
That was a misquote. It's supposed to be something along the lines of "by embracing our vulnerability that we are made human."
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