To Ease the Passing of Time

As raindrops were pounding on the tin roof of the cottage, I lay still in the darkness of the night watching the memories slowly come back to my mind as if I was watching a movie.

There was sand under my feet as I walked on the beach holding a hand much bigger than mine.

There was the acid and pungent odor of the rotten wood chips that were piled near the paper mill like a giant pyramid mixed with the salty smell of the sea and the sweet perfume of the pine trees.

And I heard the train coming, and I saw it cross the dark metal bridge above the dark water where my parents often said it was too dangerous to swim.

And then it was another day.

I was in church.

It was a rather cool and sunny summer day on the Gaspé coast.

The two large and heavy doors were wide open to let the summer breeze come in freely.

I could smell the incense coming from the altar mixing with the perfume of the roses outside the church.

Suddenly, a gust of cold wind came through the door that sent a shiver up my back that made me uneasy for a few seconds.

But I knew that after the praying, the singing and the blessing, I would go back my grandparent’s house and that there would be raspberry pie with fresh cream, and all kinds of cookies with different shapes, and that some of those cookies would even have jam in the middle.

And the rain kept pounding on the roof and I was half asleep for a while.

I saw the dark sky full of stars.

There was a campfire burning in the middle of the forest and we were all sitting around it.

It was during our summer camp near lake Kénogami when I was a boy scout at the age of maybe twelve or thirteen.

The last song that we sang before going to sleep in our tents was a prayer to ask God to bless us.

I looked at the sky and I felt that I was not alone in the universe, and that no matter what was going to happen to me after that night; everything would be all right in the end.

I often thought of that night after, when I felt lonely and scared.

And raindrops were still pounding on the roof. I was completely awake. The next memory did not come to my mind by itself. I made it come. I made it come because it was somewhat related to the last one.

I was walking to work after getting off the bus on Wellington Street.

I was afraid that my students and colleagues would smell the alcohol on my breath.

I thought to myself that my life could not go on like that for very long but I did not see any way out of it.

That's when I felt that comforting presence in my heart. I just knew that everything was going to be all right and that I was not alone.

And the rain was still pounding gently on the tin roof of the cottage when I fell asleep. And Maria and the cats were sleeping. And everything was all right.