Carlo was given the same medication that an extreme schizophrenic I know is prescribed . it made his hair fall out, including his eyebrows and lashes. It changed his body and face shape. In one of the last photos of him from Alberta he has the same big ole grin and that's how you recognize him. it's not any better in other provinces. He was turned away at the hospital there the evening before his suicide. First time I've said that. His suicide. I've said once or twice he killed himself but now it's a title. his suicide. The suicide that he owns, that is his. See how I'm getting so morbid about it? I usually accept things better than this. I usually have a gentler attitude about inevitable feelings.
It's the turning away. The turning away that Claudette is talking about and how it's becoming so common. it's in the turning away that the ripping in my heart and the anger in my head won't quiet. They were turned away at the last straw of their very lives. What's that old christian parable, "no room at the inn", jesus gotta be born in the barn. the moral of that parable is the best of humanity gets turned away from the comfort and the nourishment and shunted to the stable all carpeted in manure.
Does the human being that turned Heather away know what happened? Does the human being that turned Carlo away know what happened? How do they live with it? Are they essentially getting away with murder? Hope they had a great time xmas shopping with their blood money. Probably got a nice xmas bonus too.
Carlo's mother is really serious about his friends not getting political about the events leading up to his suicide. She is very specific about us concentrating on the beauty we had with him and on keeping his soul dear to us. She cannot stand the idea that entangle his memory with anger or politics. It detracts from her memories of us as innocent children and growing adults. She needs to keep that pure. She is a powerful and beautiful woman with a singing voice that transcends. I was standing with her when she read his goodbye poem., reading it alongside her. The sky fell. The weight of the sorrow passing through her body and the force of the tears that came. The energy of her pain hit me like mack truck and knocked the breath right out of my body. if I could take that impact of sorrow and drop it into the bodies of those that did the turning away there would be no more need for politics.