Once in awhile I cross paths with someone special.
Someone who makes me think. Someone who inspires me.
Today it was Faye.
Junior and I were at the dog park after work. I walked over to the bench in the shade and I asked a lady if I could sit beside her. She put down her book, smiled and said, “of course, Im just getting some fresh air.”
We started chatting about the dogs and the neighbourhood. The usual.
Something sounded different. I heard something. Not an accent. But some of the words just sounded different. And there was a spark. An adventurous spark in her eyes.
So I asked.
She smiled and mashed out her cigarette. “My dear I am from Capetown.”
And from there unravelled the story of a life lived.
In 1956 her company transferred her from Capetown, South Africa to Toronto, Canada. The names of cities that that she was transferred to after Toronto (to set up offices around the world) and before winding up here in Vancouver are too numerous to list. Her stories, adventures and ideas are too rare and too brave for me to recount here. I couldn’t put her life to words and make it sound as beautiful as her voice did telling me. So I wont try.
I asked her when she is going back to Capetown next. Her answer was she could no longer handle such a long flight.
If I won the lottery tomorrow I would purchase her a ticket in one of those Air Canada pods so she could visit her family in style.
Thank you fate for arranging for me meet her.
It did me good.