Vacuosity

Return visit

I cannot say enough good things about my friend Jose Lima.

I can say: I don't see him enough, I'lll miss him terribly, and that he's like a brother to me. We saw Jose, Diane and their kids tonight for only the second time since Jaimeson was born. And that was more than we'd seen each other in the 3 years prior. But the thing about them is what I think is the determining factor of a true friend: there is no awkwardness. Ever. It's just pure unconditional acceptance as a friend.

Jose and I worked together at Goodman Phillips & Vineberg (now Goodmans) for a number of years. There were some tough times; awful periods, but also joyous ones: their marriage, Jordan's arrival, friends' marriages... but nothing compares to the horror of the Reign of Macdougall.

Sheila Macdougall was the bane of our existence, the banshee of Facilities, the evil that refused to die. She was a spinster who had been to a proper finishing school (way back when they still existed), and managed by the old textbook, the one of fear, belittlement and intimidation. I feel no remorse for calling her the hag that she was: a bitter, lonely old woman who kept the requisite cats and held a sour face of interminable ugliness. I once pulled off the highway just for the sake of urinating in her namesake, Lake Macdougall. One of the finest and satisfying moments of my life was the day (long after Goodmans was history for me) I heard that Macdougall had been fired. Ocassionally, justice is served.

During that time, Jose and I were one of the few stabilizing influences on each other. We were two young guys, both in committed relationships, full of dreams and ambition, courageous, unstoppable. We were dreamers, planning our houses, our cottages, our families. Optimism was the one thing we held on to.

Each and every day during the summers you could find Jose and me outside playing hackey-sack in the Trinity Square courtyard. We lived for our few minutes outside. On the days when Jose and I had to take our lunches separately, you would still find me in the courtyard, notebook in hand, writing about the interesting cast there.

Jose and I were sitting one day after Jordan had come along, discussing children and family life. I was trying to convince him not to have children. Not that I didn't love my son, I did very much; he was almost the only thing that kept me going, but it was that parenthood was impossibly hard, it was finishing an already failing marriage, and the prospect of failing entirely seemed likely. My argument was that no one should ever choose to be a parent. If you want to be a parent for anything but the pure unadulterated desire to raise a healthy, happy person, it's the wrong choice. But anyone who is completely unselfish would realize that they could not do that completely, so in their altruistic wisdom would choose not to be a parent...No, it didn't convince Jose either...he has three kids now.

And they are three beautiful children. He and Diane love them, are proud of them, empower them, and protect them in a way that is sadly too, too rare.

I admire Jose for many things, in much the same way I admire Adam, for succeeding in a way I never could.

posted by David @ 11:07 p.m.