I've noticed her, hard not to, slender figure, a fine shape, beautiful face. We've chatted, briefly, she's beautiful, a mild flirtation, she's usually in to catch the ferry, a short window, and here, I'm busy, always busy...
The other waitress knows her, they live on the other side of the lake, small community, she tells me she's a Doula.
Tonight, she's in, alone, 5 minutes after the last ferry left, meaning for 2 hours, or an hour an 50 minutes , and so tonight, slow enough to chat, a wee bit, and I ask her about the Doula bit...
She's not a Doula, she's a registered nurse. But funny I should ask, she's thinking about becoming a death doula....
Curious, for me, because I knew somebody else once who had an interest in this. Me, death, pretty cut and dried, I've lots of practice, it doesn't particularly scare me (anymore) but I'd like to be ready. Not "Doula" ready, but - well, have my locker organized, have certain of my creative projects out of the way. But I'm not everyone, and I've met a lot of people who were scared to death of it...no pun intended. People who hung on far longer than was seemly, becoming, people who had this inarticulate fear and apprehension of death and would do anything to avoid it. Anything, in Canada, means anything that we - the taxpayers - are willing to pay for.
It's curious, I get it, and no, at the same time, death is the end, embrace it, live well and nave nothing to regret. Make room for the new generation. I sometimes worry that I'm a little too cavalier about it all, I think I just get it in a broader, metaphysical sense.
She's 55. She drops her age and it explodes lite a fucking nuclear bomb. "No Way!!" I tell her, she looks good for a woman of 40, 35 even, good period, she's a beautiful woman, well composed and collected, but she's not taking the flattery, "YES", absolute, I've never seen this, in Calgary, wherever, never. She's beautiful, and I hate to be ageist (being old myself) - but - well, you don't see this. Amazing. All my prejudices out the window.
The night gets busy, the conversation lulls, I want to buy her a drink, lead the conversation away from here, discover her a bit more thoroughly, but work and professionalism forbid, I'll break that taboo for sure, soon, I know, don't want to be "that waiter", but I'm here, she's keen, and while nurses aren't my thing I'm curious...