Memories rushed back yesterday as I walked by my first apartment at Dundas and Gladstone. I remember now, very clearly, the first time I felt truly and completely alone. I had just returned from a secondhand store with a big box of chinaware and glasses. As I entered my apartment, the passing Dundas West streetcar rumbled and shook my new place. Why didn’t I notice this when I first toured the place? I spent the next thirty minutes stocking the kitchen cabinets with dishes, bowls, and glasses. As I was finishing and upon closing the last cabinet door, the Dundas West streetcar roared by again but must faster. My upper kitchen cabinets lunged forward, out of their brackets, loosened by many years of streetcar vibration. I moved quickly with both hands to hold them up, keeping the cabinets and all my dishes from crashing to the floor. So. There I was, two hands supporting the cabinets, looking around for someone to help but quick to realize, no one was there to help me. I would eventually have to let go and let everything crash and smash. I felt truly and completely alone, helpless. I’m extremely fortunate that I have not felt this way since.
