The train pulled in to Union only 20 minutes late, so I had enough time to check in at the Royal York, change into my "Rivoli Ensemble" and meet my good friend for dinner at the Queen Mother Café on Queen West.
I saw him waiting for me as soon as I got to the "Queen Mum". He had a great table for us right by the window. We hugged and started talking right away about all the things we wanted to talk about, plus a few more things. I marveled at how easily we talked, how much we laughed...and how many times the poor server tried to take our order when we hadn't even opened the menus.
Nervous because I knew other people would be waiting for me at the Rivoli and I had the tickets, I bid my friend a quick goodbye, leaving him to pay the bill, which we'd agreed upon in advance.
Walking quickly west on Queen West from the Queen Mum, I realized the Rivoli was further away than I remembered. But soon enough I was there, and saw Jennifer texting away on her phone.
We hugged as she told me there were others waiting inside; everyone seemed to know about "Karen and her guests."
I was in Toronto to see Drago Dit Dragon and the Russell Drago Quintet (usually just a "Trio"). Four friends, plus my dinner date, would join me. I was happy to see that the place was pleasantly packed; Russell had been nervous about "filling the house".
There was lots of time to get a glass of wine, hug my other friends and ensure we were all seated together before the show started.
What a wonderful surprise when Russell dedicated a song to me and led the audience in a round of applause for me for coming all the way from Windsor for the show!
My dinner date ducked out early because he felt a summer cold coming on; couple of my other friends left right after the finale because it was past their bedtime. It was past my bedtime too, but here I was back in the city I'd called home for almost 40 years.
I walked with my remaining friend to University subway; he went down the stairs to catch his train and I flagged a cab. I could have walked back to my hotel...but I was tired and my feet were hurting a bit. One of the joys of the Big Smoke...you can flag a cab! Can't do that in Windsor where I live now.
Once back at my hotel, I took off my "Rivoli Ensemble" and all my jewellery and makeup. Then I ordered a 7 a.m. wakeup call, plucked some sea salted caramels, jumbo cashews and a giant bottle of Evian from the mini bar, ensconced myself in my king size bed and ordered up a movie on demand.
I was snoring before I knew it.
In the morning I had just enough time to shower, apply minimal makeup, dress and pack before checking out and meeting my BFF for breakfast.
We talked and ate and talked and ate and talked some more, accepting every offer to refill our coffee. We hugged, said we loved each other and said goodbye.
I walked though the PATH until I found an Indigo Spirit store; I already had a pretty dress in my suitcase for my 5 year old granddaughter, but I knew it was going to be too big for her--I wanted to give her something she could enjoy right away.
Settling on a Dory stuffie and a 12-pack of Fancy Nancy Phonics books in their own little carrying case, I paid, got my Plum Points and was on my way again.
It was still a bit too early to set out for my stepson's, so I found a marble bench near one of Toronto's bank towers and sat down to take stock. Soon I was sharing my bench with a wounded pigeon. At first I thought it was cute that it was just laying there beside me, but it soon became apparent that it was missing a foot. Which broke my heart.
I looked around and was suddenly overcome with an all-encompassing melancholy.
This was not my city anymore.
I was a stranger here, no more than a tourist with my suitcase on wheels, sitting outside with nowhere to go and nothing to do.
For almost forty years I called this city my home.
For almost forty years I bristled if anyone DARED diss it in any way, shape or form.
I hadn't lived here for two years. I felt it so strongly and had the lump in my throat to prove it.
Couldn't take the streetcar because I knew I didn't have exact change and I also knew they weren't air conditioned and it would be a long, sweaty ride across King Street to Roncesvalles.
I walked to King and University and hailed a cab.
The driver asked me if I wanted the A/C on and I said no, the fresh air blowing on my face from the open rear seat window felt really good.
The traffic was terrible but I didn't care. Gave me more time to take in the shops, sights and sounds of King Street West.
Before long we stopped in front of my stepson's house. I paid the fare with a good tip and lugged my suitcase out of the back seat on to Pearson Ave.
Not long after ringing the doorbell I saw the sweet, amazing faces of my beloved little granddaughter and her mother. This is where I'd be for the next several hours. Somewhere I used to be able to walk to from my home. Now I had to travel 400 kilometres on a train and then another 10 by car or transit to get here.
I told my stepson, "It's not my city anymore. And I'm so sad about that."
"It will always be your city Karen," he said.
But it's not. Not like it used to be.
Hi, Karen
Seems unnatural for me not to associate you with Toronto.
Kindest regards,
George
Posted by: George | 11/20/2016 at 07:14 AM