Bells

~written Wednesday August 6th, 2008 ~

I had a tooth extracted today. And then I went to the devout part of town ... St. Boniface, to see to the basilica there. I walked through the most ugly, despairing and violent part of town, after having a molar pulled from my right upper jaw at the Mount Carmel Clinic.

I bit down on the gauze ... for comfort as well as for habit. I do not realize how much I comfort myself of my inner anxieties through teeth-clenching, unless I reflect upon the matter. I could taste the blood in the cavity where that molar once rooted itself. A sign that the freezing had begun fading, and with it the effects of the epinephrine.


This time I missed having my heart of hearts hold my hand ... offer it for my squeezing. So instead, while I watched the needle enter my mouth, and later when I felt the dental pliers pulling on my dying molar, instead I gripped the arms of the dental chair.

I saw the tooth ~ the dentist showed it to me upon succeeding in its difficult extraction. She marvelled at the dead tooth's apex ~ a large, pointy thing, that looked like a demon's sharp fingernail. I truly thought of asking her if she would put it in a vial for me, so I could take it home and slip it under my pillow.

'Maybe the tooth fairy would give me 25 cents for this?' I spoke that thought out loud, but stopped short of asking for my tooth. I wanted to, though. Really did. I suppose I secretly told myself to stop clinging to the death and loss that cast shadows upon my soul, and begin vigourously embracing life and the living.


And so, I walked through the most wretched part of town, teeth clenched tightly upon the gauze. And I walked. And walked. And then took the free bus ~ yes, this city still offers fare-free service on one line that goes to The Forks ~ a stone's throw from the basilica.

I walked through the hallowed ground of the cemetary there, armed with a cell phone camera. And then I walked into the open court yard of the basilica. Standing right underneath the belfry, studying the stone work and the tiny spiral staircases long condemned for use, I heard them. The bells. And ... ~ now you can hear them too ~ bells of st. boniface basilica.