What If?
I can imagine you taking some pleasure in seeing a former English teacher at the front of a large room, a large crowd, and at a loss for words. There are of course no words because our language is a poor instrument to capture the grief and sorrow and heartache we all feel.
So perhaps you will indulge me for a moment, allowing me to go back to literature and I hope Teresa will forgive me for bringing Ernest Hemingway into this.
I don’t suppose many of you have read “Big Two Hearted River” by Hemingway. But that is of no importance, after all I spent 30 years speaking to people who had not done the required reading so this will only be uncomfortable for you. As a matter of fact, as I look out over this gathering today many of you are the very people who did not do the reading back then.
Set in the aftermath of world war one, our protagonist, Nick, arrives on a burnt out area north of lake Superior. Nick has been dropped by the train in the middle of what was the small mill town of Seney. There is nothing left of Seney except ash, the river and grasshoppers.
I think of this story now because Nick takes simple pleasure in simple, beautiful things. In many ways Nick and Geoffrey are kindred spirits.
Nick is in a harsh and barren place but stares wondrously at the trout nosing the river bottom, holding themselves in place in the current. He thinks back to a time a good friend taught him to make coffee over a fire and he experiences joy as he wades into the cold stream and feels his pants stick to his legs. He is happy. He is at peace.
I start with literature because it is a place where we can talk of everything and nothing all at the same time. I hope you get a chance to read that story in the next few weeks.
I know that you have stared at the ceiling these past 10 days. You have tossed and turned, faced the wall and then back again. You have woken just before the time you normally do, only to remember the pain of it all. In those times, you have probably been asking the same question. The same big question that I have been asking. That Bruce and Teresa and Thomas and James have been asking.
What if?
Geoffrey asked of me on Christmas Eve. What if. He looked down on me, not metaphorically mind you but literally, he had to looked down on me since he was 10 I believe and said, “Dan, what if” his big voice and that barely contained laugh following “Dan, what if Kyle Dubas the young general manager of our beloved Maple Leafs, spent his brilliance on solving world hunger rather than on managing a hockey team?
What if indeed?
What if Geoff had not taken that last run? What if he took the route his good friend Daniel took. If you’re asking those questions than why not follow your logic to its natural conclusions. Ask all the what ifs.
What if Geoff had not had such a beautiful and caring family, a father who took him on a canoe trip when he was five. A mother, brave and strong enough to let her son go West and make his way. What if they had not done that? Then his friend couldn’t write:
Geoff is everything one can ask for in a friend. He showed and taught me so much, and my life is richer from his friendship.
What if Geoff hadn’t paddled with his two brothers, camped with them, honed his great skills on the mountain with them? If he hadn’t done these things, you would not be able to write on his Facebook wall
Geoff was a very kind person, who always made the people around him feel happy and safe. His memory will never cease to put a smile on my face.
Do you see where our question has lead us?
Teresa let him go; her magical son. Challenged him intellectually every step of the way. Bruce, in his quiet and calm way, taught him to become the young man we all wish was here today. James, jousting with his older brother, nudging him. Looking up to him. Thomas, quiet Thomas, picking up Geoff’s guitar. Skiing on Geoff’s tips, pushing him to be better.
Maybe we would not be in such pain today if we hadn’t gone on those countless canoe trips and epic ski trips. Maybe all those discussion around great food and bad cards lead us here.
Maybe if we hadn’t blurred the line, till it no longer existed between friends and family, we wouldn’t be here now.
Maybe Geoff could have grown up to be meek and mild. Bland and boring. A man unwilling to take a risk. But we didn’t do that, did we? Geoff didn’t become that.
Geoff became a man of substance. A thoughtful, kind, gentle, caring compassionate, passionate, talented man. A loyal friend. A big brother to James and Thomas and dare I say it, to our Kevin and Claire. He became the man that we all loved.
But these questions sting me like nettles. What if he skied in the centre of the run? What if he didn’t push edges? What if he had taken the typical road, the one well travelled?
Well, he wouldn’t have been our Geoff, our love, would he?
I use to text Geoff during Leaf games and I started this when he moved out West and the Leafs were so bad. I texted a lot of people back then during games and you know Geoff was the only one to text me back. “Ya” he’d write “we suck Dan.” It was like we were watching the game together, even though we were separated by thousands of kilometers. What if he hadn’t answered me? What if I hadn’t texted him in the first place? Well I wouldn’t have the joy of that memory and his presence right now.
But I am tired of these questions now. I am sure you are too. What you want is answers. What I want is an answer. Of course the answers I have are flawed and do not pass the careful scrutiny of the reasonable mind.
What has come to me is Frankle’s idea that you and I have assumed this burden of grief. We have taken it on like a heavy pack; much like the one Nick in Hemingway's tale lifts and strides to his beautiful river.
There is meaning in it. We take on burden, because Geoff chose to live his life in a deliberate and wondrous way, just like Nick in the story. By assuming this heavy burden, you allowed that wondrous, beautiful man, our Geoffrey, to live his life that deliberate and unique way. There is meaning and beauty in that if we can just find the strength to see it.
Let’s flip the “what if’s” on their heads. Come with me for a moment.
What if you are standing on top of a beautiful mountain, staring at a daunting run, your heart pounding, what if you just think of Geoff for a moment. What if you talk to him a little bit; “hey Geoff, I’m going for it.” Or what if you follow the swirl your paddle makes as you push for home and in that moment you see Geoff in the reflection of the water. Or what if, after a great day on the river or the lake, when you are sitting around the fire with your friends, your family, you just look into that fire and give a little nod to Geoff. He will nod back.
What if, when you hear someone pick up a guitar and strum some chords, you think of Geoff in the notes.
What if you do these things, some of these things, all of these things in your own way. You would not be much different from Hemingway’s Nick or much different from our beautiful Geoff. You would see the beauty in simple, peaceful things. But more importantly, you may be closer to Geoff than you ever have been before. He would be right there with you.
If we take on this burden, he will not be gone and we will not be alone.
