kindness – Me, and my imaginary friend

Two blocks from home on my daily walk, and I can see someone struggling down the sidewalk, bent almost double, and looking like they’re about to fall down any second. Wearing a heavy jacket and close snugged hood, I can’t see their face but I stop and ask if they’re okay. Pointless question, as they begin to fall. I grab on to an arm and manage to manoeuvre over to a patch of grass on the curb where they can sit. My talk and attempts at comfort get no response, and in a few minutes the person falls unconscious on their side.

I decide to call 911 for an ambulance, but I need to walk a bit to see the street name sign, I am pretty new here. I head back to the person now stretched out on the street while explaining to the 911 operator what happened, trying to answer her questions – How old is the person? Can I get to a defibrillator? – while other people stop on the street to ask if I am okay…

One man stops to help me get the person onto their side per the instructions of the operator. Meanwhile, the person begins to try to talk, and I ask “What’s your name honey?”

“Betty” she says. *

“Thank you for being kind to her” says the 911 operator.

I can hear the ambulance and in a moment I am talking with them, and now I am free to go on my way, though I get only a few blocks further before I have to sit down on a bench to think about all this. It is the “Thank you for being kind to her” that has me feeling twisted and tortured and completely at odds with my world. ** Because this is a suspected drug overdose and a scene all too commonplace on our city streets, and completely unremarkable.

I am free to get on with my day, but I don’t know how to do that. I feel the shame and horror of living in a time and place and culture where we allow these things to happen without much self-reflection, where some people are self-evidently less valued than others.

How did we get here? Where do we go from here? What do we need to do to recognize that the core of our culture must be simple kindness and the acknowledgement of our shared humanity?

I suppose I must end with a question, because I just cannot get on with my day. I am not okay, my imaginary friend.

* Her real name is not Betty

** No criticism intended of the 911 operator, who was calm and thoughtful and kind.

A horse runs on railroad tracks towards an oncoming train. — Horse and Train, Alex Colville

Mary died on December 28^th, 2025, with her daughter holding her hand. Her last days were filled with her three children, daughter-in-law, grandchild, great grandchild (and twin great grandchildren about to be born), companion and co-conspirator in epic fun, and the beloved Chloe, German Shepherd. The qualities of kindness and imagination were with her to the end, and she is loved and remembered and still inspiring family, extended family, and friends spanning Canada, the USA, Sweden, Finland, and Australia.

Mary is also remembered by many former students from a thirty-year teaching career in Trail (Montrose Kindergarten), Nakusp, Balfour, Princeton, Nanaimo, Nelson, Sicamous, and Celista. She pioneered the whole language approach to learning reading, instituted a daily ‘health hustle’ in her classroom, nurtured a garden with her students, and her class at North Shuswap elementary won the “Kids are Authors” award with their book The Shoe Monster. Her colleagues will remember her as energetic, and direct in her views and opinions. She enjoyed performing and volunteering in little theatre, attending concerts, plays, the symphony, and the ballet whenever possible, meeting artists and visionaries and collecting art, and talking politics. She travelled widely with a very small suitcase and a large sense of adventure.

Though not untouched by worries and sorrows, Mary lived a vivid and interesting life and believed in the stars. In the beautiful words of Antoine De Saint-Exupery:

“You – you alone – will have the stars as no one else has them – …

In one of the stars, I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing when you look at the sky at night…You – only you – will have stars that can laugh!”

There will be no service at Mary’s explicit request. In due course her ashes will join that of her husband, Ronald Charles Doubt, in a spot along the Pend d’Oreille River which holds much joy and wonderful memories for all of the Doubt family. All who believe in the stars are welcome.