Dedicated to the feisty, fearless memory of
EDWIN WEISS
Yahrzeit Date: 15 Nisan 5783
Passed Away: April 6, 2023
EDWIN WEISS
Yahrzeit Date: 15 Nisan 5783
Passed Away: April 6, 2023
Video: Saturday, April 15, 2023.
Starbucks, Roxborough/Yonge
Starbucks, Roxborough/Yonge
Monday, April 10, 2023.
My "story" with Eddie and why I am dedicating Poignant.ca with a mission to growin his memory:
My "story" with Eddie and why I am dedicating Poignant.ca with a mission to growin his memory:
"Things Never Done Before"
Thank you, Eddie.
The Story Behind the Canvas:
The summer of 2019 I moved into the AV-DAV ( Avenue Road/Davenport) area after the most challenging, darkest year of my life. I was just in survival mode. This is not the place for my story, so I will leave it at that.
On my way to and from the subway, I would pass a retirement residence. I often saw a silver-haired ( and I would later discover silver-tongued) gentleman, gingerly perched in his walker, legs crossed, swinging a leg, wearing aviators and beautifully appointed shirts with matching collars and cuffs, smoking a joint. His hair was perfectly styled, always cleanly shaved and always engaged in some kind of convivial conversation. He had 'game'.
What amazed me most about him is that most of the time, he had the 'chutzpah' to be smoking a joint directly situated underneath the "No Smoking" sign. I though that was so cool and fearless and made me smile inside every time I saw him bring his roach-clip up to inhale! The 'old dude' was old school COOL. Whenever I walked past, I always had my head down, because I had very little to say those days. He would say, "Hello!" anyway, with a bright smile and I would nod "hello" back and quickly walk away. One day he asked me my name, and I told him, "Gloria" and he said, "I'm Eddie. We exchanged a few words and again I walked away. His smile always made my day, and I looked forward to walking past even if we never really spoke. I loved his energy and always felt a glimmer of sunshine radiate into my own smile, and after I while I would hold my head higher to meet his blue, blue mischevious eyes. These nods back and forth continued till it got cold and then I did not see him anymore.
Fast forward to 2000 and COVID hits. I wondered how "Eddie" was as I had not seen him for 4-5 months now. I never saw him eating in the dining room, or smoking and bantering outside. I wanted to do something nice for him, to lift his spirits just a little, as he had lifted mine all those months. Those days were so bleak, and I imagined him to be sick, or worse and definitely in need of something to make him smile. I thought a "mitzvah" from a stranger might brighten his day! Back then I did not know his last name or that he lived on the 7th floor, so I would make my gift for "Eddie" and just leave it with the front desk. I drew him one of my little "Love Canvasses" and included some Tate's cookies, some lavender oil and magnetic crystal stones since he had a "Sage" bag on his walker where he kept his joints! I figured he must like aromatherapy oil, and who doesn't like Tate's oatmeal cookies? I wrote him a note, but did not sign it. It made me so happy to do this during Covid lockdown, that I cheered myself up by making a video so I could remember that moment. This is the first time, I am sharing this video with anyone. When I went to drop if off, due to Covid, I was not allowed inside the residence (even to take it to the front desk) so I had no idea if it would get to "Eddie" as I could not tell them the resident's last name, so I just left it there and walked home - with a smile on my face and in my heart - hoping he was OK!
The summer of 2019 I moved into the AV-DAV ( Avenue Road/Davenport) area after the most challenging, darkest year of my life. I was just in survival mode. This is not the place for my story, so I will leave it at that.
On my way to and from the subway, I would pass a retirement residence. I often saw a silver-haired ( and I would later discover silver-tongued) gentleman, gingerly perched in his walker, legs crossed, swinging a leg, wearing aviators and beautifully appointed shirts with matching collars and cuffs, smoking a joint. His hair was perfectly styled, always cleanly shaved and always engaged in some kind of convivial conversation. He had 'game'.
What amazed me most about him is that most of the time, he had the 'chutzpah' to be smoking a joint directly situated underneath the "No Smoking" sign. I though that was so cool and fearless and made me smile inside every time I saw him bring his roach-clip up to inhale! The 'old dude' was old school COOL. Whenever I walked past, I always had my head down, because I had very little to say those days. He would say, "Hello!" anyway, with a bright smile and I would nod "hello" back and quickly walk away. One day he asked me my name, and I told him, "Gloria" and he said, "I'm Eddie. We exchanged a few words and again I walked away. His smile always made my day, and I looked forward to walking past even if we never really spoke. I loved his energy and always felt a glimmer of sunshine radiate into my own smile, and after I while I would hold my head higher to meet his blue, blue mischevious eyes. These nods back and forth continued till it got cold and then I did not see him anymore.
Fast forward to 2000 and COVID hits. I wondered how "Eddie" was as I had not seen him for 4-5 months now. I never saw him eating in the dining room, or smoking and bantering outside. I wanted to do something nice for him, to lift his spirits just a little, as he had lifted mine all those months. Those days were so bleak, and I imagined him to be sick, or worse and definitely in need of something to make him smile. I thought a "mitzvah" from a stranger might brighten his day! Back then I did not know his last name or that he lived on the 7th floor, so I would make my gift for "Eddie" and just leave it with the front desk. I drew him one of my little "Love Canvasses" and included some Tate's cookies, some lavender oil and magnetic crystal stones since he had a "Sage" bag on his walker where he kept his joints! I figured he must like aromatherapy oil, and who doesn't like Tate's oatmeal cookies? I wrote him a note, but did not sign it. It made me so happy to do this during Covid lockdown, that I cheered myself up by making a video so I could remember that moment. This is the first time, I am sharing this video with anyone. When I went to drop if off, due to Covid, I was not allowed inside the residence (even to take it to the front desk) so I had no idea if it would get to "Eddie" as I could not tell them the resident's last name, so I just left it there and walked home - with a smile on my face and in my heart - hoping he was OK!
As soon as I could fly, I went back to San Francisco ( to move some of my things back) which is where I had lost everything and was not able to get my start-up off the ground, so when I came back it was autumn of 2020.
Although I saw Eddie stationed at his "post" again, too much time had passed, so I never asked him if he received his little package, because the whole point is that it was from a stranger! We continued our hello's and winter came again and I did not see him again until March 2021!
Although I saw Eddie stationed at his "post" again, too much time had passed, so I never asked him if he received his little package, because the whole point is that it was from a stranger! We continued our hello's and winter came again and I did not see him again until March 2021!
Eddie's Four Words.
March 2021, things were better for me and I signed a new marketing contract and I was on top of the world! As I was walking back from the closing, I see Eddie, and he waves and says, "Whoa, whoa, whoa", and motions for me to stop.
I stopped. That is how our two year friendship which can only be themed as "love-hate" began. As I look back as I am typing these words, the night before his funeral ( which I can not attend) I would not have had it any other way, because it was real. We saw the good, bad and ugly about each other - as people, as human beings. There was nothing physical between us ever, nothing romantic, per se, but a spectrum of human emotions would follow. We were in touch ( on and off since we would get "mad' at each other) until March 12 2023 when is the last time we spoke. He called me back to me he was "terrible" and could not talk until he got better, after I left him a message early March. Even that last conversation was a battle of wits. My last call to him was April 5th, to wish him a Happy Passover ( and see how he was, I must confess) and there was no reply. Ira called me on April 8th, as he had heard my Happy Passover message and he told me that Eddie had passed away.
After I hung up the phone, my mind went back to that first conversation which lasted about an hour, (on the street); me sitting on the edge of the huge flower pot near his walker. He was vintage "Eddie". If there was one word that would touch on all facets of Eddie, it would be "sharp". Sharp mind. Sharp dresser. Sharp wit. Sharp words. As with any double-edged sword, I would soon discover that Eddie had a much softer side that he tried hard to conceal with his outward gruffness. He could be kind, and warm and vulnerable.
He told me so much about himself and we began our journey. Matza balls made with miso. ( He was right, delicious and unexpected combination). He showed me all the jewellery he made from the coral that he dived for on his trips. He gave me some stones that he had found and collected on the beach on his travels. One day he gave me a little clown he had bought in Mexico on his travels to remind me of him. Often he would give me his copy of the National Post to read an article he liked.
On his desk he had printed out that story that Steve Jobs (supposedly wrote, although it is said he did not) about how at the end of his life he regretted chasing all the deals first and not having lived life for other reasons. That was one of the first things he told me about that day. His legal battles against giants, his adventures in Florida. Always a cautionary tale, he told me of how most recently a man had gotten into his suite at the retirement residence and stole a couple of thousand dollars from his right hand drawer - where he now knew to never keep valuables - as he was told by the police that is where most people keep them! He spoke of other things closer to his heart, but not appropriate to share him. As our conversation drew to an end, a very unlikely and unusual friendship began.
He gave me his business card and I called a few days later and we began talking on the phone too. He was always positive. Strong. Yet he held back, always afraid of being hurt, always seeking warmth and then pushing it away. He told me that he estimated he had 5 good years left. I always took him at his word for that, and it is the only thing I regret doing. I always thought there would be more time.
These conversations lasted for about a month and Easter (for me) and Passover (for him) came by and I asked him what 4 words he wanted me to incorporate into a little canvas I wanted to draw for him a Passover gift. He did not even have to think about the words, they just poured out of him, eyes looking poignantly into the past and longingly into the future:
I stopped. That is how our two year friendship which can only be themed as "love-hate" began. As I look back as I am typing these words, the night before his funeral ( which I can not attend) I would not have had it any other way, because it was real. We saw the good, bad and ugly about each other - as people, as human beings. There was nothing physical between us ever, nothing romantic, per se, but a spectrum of human emotions would follow. We were in touch ( on and off since we would get "mad' at each other) until March 12 2023 when is the last time we spoke. He called me back to me he was "terrible" and could not talk until he got better, after I left him a message early March. Even that last conversation was a battle of wits. My last call to him was April 5th, to wish him a Happy Passover ( and see how he was, I must confess) and there was no reply. Ira called me on April 8th, as he had heard my Happy Passover message and he told me that Eddie had passed away.
After I hung up the phone, my mind went back to that first conversation which lasted about an hour, (on the street); me sitting on the edge of the huge flower pot near his walker. He was vintage "Eddie". If there was one word that would touch on all facets of Eddie, it would be "sharp". Sharp mind. Sharp dresser. Sharp wit. Sharp words. As with any double-edged sword, I would soon discover that Eddie had a much softer side that he tried hard to conceal with his outward gruffness. He could be kind, and warm and vulnerable.
He told me so much about himself and we began our journey. Matza balls made with miso. ( He was right, delicious and unexpected combination). He showed me all the jewellery he made from the coral that he dived for on his trips. He gave me some stones that he had found and collected on the beach on his travels. One day he gave me a little clown he had bought in Mexico on his travels to remind me of him. Often he would give me his copy of the National Post to read an article he liked.
On his desk he had printed out that story that Steve Jobs (supposedly wrote, although it is said he did not) about how at the end of his life he regretted chasing all the deals first and not having lived life for other reasons. That was one of the first things he told me about that day. His legal battles against giants, his adventures in Florida. Always a cautionary tale, he told me of how most recently a man had gotten into his suite at the retirement residence and stole a couple of thousand dollars from his right hand drawer - where he now knew to never keep valuables - as he was told by the police that is where most people keep them! He spoke of other things closer to his heart, but not appropriate to share him. As our conversation drew to an end, a very unlikely and unusual friendship began.
He gave me his business card and I called a few days later and we began talking on the phone too. He was always positive. Strong. Yet he held back, always afraid of being hurt, always seeking warmth and then pushing it away. He told me that he estimated he had 5 good years left. I always took him at his word for that, and it is the only thing I regret doing. I always thought there would be more time.
These conversations lasted for about a month and Easter (for me) and Passover (for him) came by and I asked him what 4 words he wanted me to incorporate into a little canvas I wanted to draw for him a Passover gift. He did not even have to think about the words, they just poured out of him, eyes looking poignantly into the past and longingly into the future:
1. Poignant.
2. Love.
3. Warmth.
4.Tenderness.
So, I drew those four words for him and incorporated other I knew he wanted
for the rest of his life into my little canvas from our conversations.
2. Love.
3. Warmth.
4.Tenderness.
So, I drew those four words for him and incorporated other I knew he wanted
for the rest of his life into my little canvas from our conversations.
April 10, 2023 11:12 p.m.
When I gave Eddie his canvas, he told me that I was always doing, "things never done before". That thrilled me, and I started to do it more in other areas of my life. This was two years ago, and I always thought I would have five to "fix" our friendship. I wanted to do so much for Eddie because his presence in my life helped me with what I call my "INNER DEFIANT" in so many ways. He challenged me all the time and I grew from it! I will never forget him and I am so grateful for the time we had. I learned to be defiant of my inner critic, and all external ones (especially him, at times) through our mercurial connection. It wasn't love. It was not hate. It was two broken people coming together, from different walks of life, and finding common ground in the search. He would want to be remembered as real, as human, and as warm and loving and kind as he could be - although he hid it very well.
He hated the fact that he could no longer work, produce, make money, or make deals, and that no one wanted his experience. That inspired me and I bought a bunch of domains to build into just that niche for seniors like himself and have him lead the company! That was my dream, and when I told him, he did not shut me down. He actually "shut up" for a change and smiled.
I wanted to write a book together about our friendship ( call it "Poignant") - hence this domain as fiery with anger and warm with empathy as it was - but there was no time, and that I never told him about my book idea. There is more to the story, but it is 11:14 PM and tomorrow April 11th is Eddie's funeral. I wrote this on the fly, straight into the web platform without editing, and I will check for typos later. It came straight from my heart. Thank you Eddie for two years of life. I will miss sparring with you the most. I learned to fight speak back, fight back and give as good (or bad!) as I got with you, and that helped me a lot as I was rebuilding my life. Yet, in that newfound strength, I never lost my empathy, my goodness or my wanting to always see the best in someone. I hope those things made you smile inside a little, even if you would never admit it to me. I learned a lot from you, by example: about what I wanted to be and not be in life. Thank you, my friend. I hope you are at peace and have finally found love, tenderness, and warmth. Poignant, indeed.
Gloria
gloria [at] gloria.org
May His Memory be for a Blessing.
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