For Uncle John - Part III

Uncle John retired from a twenty-nine year teaching career, his passion for literature and language sustained classrooms at Sheldon Williams Collegiate in Regina for twenty-seven of them. Time in California shaped his outlook before returning to the prairies, becoming an influence of English studies on his thousands of students. He spoke fervently about language and its powerful usage. All insights becoming a stew of philosophy which he both lived his life by and nurtured in young adults. From American movie to music video channels on TV, he would always point out one degree of separation between him and stars...all via past students. Following the lives of whom he had influenced was his connection to pop culture - one which he remained keen to.

As I was going through high-school, Uncle John's formal teaching days were behind him but the effect he had in the world remained a constant narrative. I struggled with engagement and interest in classes, appreciating my teachers but resistant to structures. I was envious of those who would credit Uncle John for their life paths. And they were plenty. Often wondering, what if I was able to learn from him?

Upon his retirement he received lessons in watercolour. An immediate attraction to the medium shifted into purpose. He and Aunt Jean covered the countryside in an endless search of abandoned farm yards and fields of wildflowers. He would shoot, develop, and paint. A hundred, then a few hundred, then over eight hundred paintings by 2008 as he catalogued and journaled about each one.

As I found my legs in pursuit of song, Uncle John painted.

I moved from couches to rental units; shared closet spaces, air mattresses and living expenses. He painted. I left Medicine Hat for Calgary, Lethbridge, Kelowna, Vancouver, London, Toronto. Hardly in any of them. And he just kept on painting.

With a fifth broken heart, I returned to Regina from ten years on the road. I rented a place in the Qu'Appelle Apartments on Scarth Street. I was happy to move 'home' however, the period to come was in need of it. I began displaying serious signs of mental and emotional exhaustion. The all-in eyes-on-the-prize drive exacerbated it. I was desperate to feel grounded so I put my career on hold, moved back to the farm, worked every daylight hour, and read.

If reading was an act of healing, I must've needed some kind of self-love. I began to feel a passion that only music had ever delivered. The idea that I could never read a fractured percentage of the greatest literary works only fuelled my love of words. Reading redefined my pursuit and allowed it a slower pace, yet was done with fervour. What I was discovering, Uncle John already knew.

With roots replanted I left the farm. A new transience was anchored by a newfound love interest and no matter where I was, I was returning to Regina. She owned a suite on the edge of downtown and I found myself moving my books in.

My walk was never quicker to Uncle John and Aunt Jean's and it usually included one of those books. As weeks passed, years passed and our collections became questions of whose is whose. The others' reading suggestions had us taking on groupings of books at a time while digesting insight into the late evening. Two french chairs at the end of their living room with a lamp and Aunt Jean's Rooibis tea between us.

I released two decades of resentment that he was never my teacher as we began a friendship like no student had ever had.

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Hey Everyone,

I’ve been really touched with the responses from this series. I don’t mean to downplay it or build it up but everything feels equal parts discipline and healing. I had an arch to this story which I’ve since let go. I guess this is the relationship between discipline and healing; just continuing to execute. So, I’m sitting down in my chair, with a coffee for about two hours in the morning and then finding my way back to the chair, with a coffee for about two hours after my boy goes to bed. I’m a patient writer, as long as I’m in the chair. I even had a handful of inspired writing sessions in the last few weeks…bonus.

So thank you. Whether it’s buying a record or supporting my writing, it’s all the same thing. I’ll keep putting the work in.

Blake.

P.S. If you are able to give the “listen” feature a shot on this entry, I recorded a couple thoughts following the reading. Really enjoying the audio as much as anything!