Forty Years - May 16th, 1971 to May 16th, 2011 (First Posted May 16, 2011)

Forty years ago, today, her name was Debbie Hyatt, she was 16 years old and her father died in Picton Hospital from internal injuries sustained in a motorcycle accident on the Schoharie Road in front of the Mustang Drive-In.

Today, forty years later, she spent the afternoon of this (to her) highly significant anniversary with her 'sister-friend', Bonnie.  They dressed up in their rain gear and went for a leisurely wander along the edge of the farmstead that borders Millhaven Creek to check out, among other near-to-hand things, how high the water had risen with the addition of 3 inches of rain between Saturday and today.  She took photos of Canadian geese hobnobbing and grooming on the grey water 'neath the equally grey sky, while Bonnie resolvedly pulled opportunistic vines away from the section of the old, wire fence that borders her property near the water.

When they returned to the house and began inspecting the surrounding gardens, Bonnie pointed out to her (with delight and surprise) how high the nettles and the rhubarb had grown over the last week.  Lo and behold, it was harvest time!  So they immediately donned neon orange (Bonnie) and bright aqua (her) gardening gloves, scooped up a wicker basket each and - with cutting tools in hand - set about their task.  Bonnie gathered young nettles for this year's batch of "No Shit Nettle Schnapps" and she gathered tender stalks of rhubarb to take home, blanch in a sugary solution and dehydrate the next day.

Later, once the rhubarb was rinsed, sorted and bagged, and the nettles were washed, dried and pressed down in to the large, pickled egg jar (which was then filled with duty free vodka from Tokyo compliments of Bonnie's travelling son, Nick), they poured themselves a glass of red wine, sat down in the living room with Jon and allowed their tongues to be loosened.

Although she knew, in honour of the occasion, she was completely free to steer the conversation in any direction she wished (for as long as she wished), she did not rush headlong into her 'wailing and teeth-gnashing' experience of her arrogant, unreachable and cruel-natured father.  Nor did she rush to dwell on the profound relief and gratitude she felt (combined with the sorrow and loss she felt due to the appropriateness of her "inappropriate" feelings) at the advent of his unexpected death 40 years ago today.  But, when she eventually did summon up her father - and his untimely death at the age of 36 - she was surprised at what she found important to say.

Moreso, she was surprised by how she felt saying what she had to say.  She felt clear, clean, resolved, absolved, honest, fair and justified in what she chose to share today with her 'sister-friend' (who has her own memories of her childhood friend's father and of her childhood friend as his young daughter) while, in the background, Leonard Cohen summed up the truth of everyone's life by singing, "There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in."

The untimely death of Ronald Glenn Hyatt was, in fact, divinely timed.  One died so 3 would have the opportunity to rebuild their lives.  Deep down she has always known this and she finds this very sad but very true fact only becomes more certain and more polished over the years. 

May 16th, 1971 - A hard, but just, day.
May 16th, 2011 - A wholesome, deeply-felt day of trusted friendship and gratitude.