Amazing news: I got my booster shot today. My doctor’s office emailed that all their patients over 70 could apply, so I did, though it’s been a bit less than six months since my second shot. They said that was okay. As well, I’m a real mixed bag, since I’ve had AstraZeneca and Moderna — and now Pfizer. That vaccine smorgasbord also is okay, apparently.
How grateful, yet again, to live in Canada! The appointment was at Women’s College, a ten minute bike ride from home; the line-up of us old folks was orderly and moved fast. A very old couple, she with a walker, were behind me. “My wife goes first,” he said. “My mother said so.” Made me laugh.
My arm is a bit sore but my spirits are high. I know, we should not be getting boosters when the rest of the world is waiting for their first shots. But I was not going to say no.
Before that, I went with Ruth and Jean-Marc to the first Cabbagetown remembrance day event, at Carlton and Parliament. There were readings including, of course, In Flanders Fields, and a talented young trumpeter played the Last Post; I talked to him after, he just graduated and is looking for a trumpet job, please let me know if you hear of anything, he’s really good with a pure, sure sound. There were two minutes of silence, and we finished by singing O Canada. I cried, as is my wont. Singing O Canada at a joyful event makes me cry, let alone when we are thinking about those killed in the vileness that is war. Today we remembered Corporal Ainsworth Dyer, a 25-year old soldier originally from Jamaica who grew up in Regent Park and was killed by an American drone in a friendly fire incident in Afghanistan. In case death in war isn’t tragic enough.
Much chatting before and after with neighbours who’ve been friends for over three decades. And then on this lovely mild day, Ruth and I did another walkabout in our favourite place, the Necropolis, where the young solider is buried. Glad to be alive, even as the leaves tumble and the light fades, and remembrance makes us thoughtful and sad.