Wisdom of Didion

Wilde Night

 

‘We are all in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars.’

~ Oscar Fingal O’Flahertie Wills Wilde

I had the most delightful birthday this year.  It was every bit the surprise and exceeded every expectation.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to stay at The Waverley Inn on Barrington Street, in the same room Oscar Wilde did while in Halifax on October 8^th, 1882 for his North American reading tour. This year, I was astonished to find a birthday envelope from my buds on the West Coast arrive ages earlier than my birth date. I opened it, confused, wondering if maybe that had lost their marbles and thought it was already December. Enclosed was the Oscar Wilde book De Profundus, birthday confetti, and a hand-made card, the kind that usually makes a welcome appearance at Christmastime. I was reading the verse inside, still befuddled and then it struck me, for my birthday, they had booked the Oscar Wilde room at The Waverley Inn for me as a gift, giving ample time to make additional plans.

As I live and breathe! Holy snappin’ scones!

Needless to say, I was flabbergasted and wowed and grateful and thankful and touched and beholden and and and ...

I arrived at The Waverley Inn on December 5^th at 2:10pm. I stopped for a few minutes outside to admire the festive holiday decorations outside, life-size but crackers, Santa in his sleigh, and larger-than-life baubles. I pulled the heavy front door open and spilled into the charming demeanor of the foyer; it welcomed me like a warm hug from an old friend. I drank in every last detail, the parlor arch festooned with greenery, the Rockefeller-size Christmas tree just beyond it, the chandeliers adorned with sparkle and shine: holiday cheer as far as the eye can see and the heart can handle.  

I acquired my fancy room key, ascended the regal staircase to the second floor to arrive at a door with Oscar Wilde’s named engraved on a plaque. I was smiling so wide my face hurt. Inside, the room was an old Victorian revelation! A decadent feather bed surrounded by antique finery and window treatments. I was giddy, like a school girl sitting next to her crush. And then there was Oscar’s portrait, displayed boldly above the writing desk where I’d spent time scribbling, card-tagging and reading. Home for the night, comfy cozy, and breathing was easy.

The Waverley Inn is so lovely and large that I found it difficult to sit still for the first little bit so I went exploring. I encountered a woman who was tending the rooms and we struck up a friendly conversation. She took a bit of a shine to me I think because she took me around and showed me several of the vacant rooms. Each one I entered was more beautiful than the one before. And, if someone of note stayed in a room, their name was also engraved on a plaque just like Oscar’s (P.T. Barnum stayed in the room right next door to me!). While peeking at the rooms, she proceeded to tell me that a psychic had stayed with them once and told her in that particular room, there was an abundance of positive energy. She shared this with me after I commented on how warm and livable it was. Seems I picked up on the mojo immediately. Instincts are still intact despite my being old as dirt!

(The Chinese Room)

I soon parted ways with my new friend and continued to explore. Each of the long hallways was lined boastfully with old incredible antique pieces and so many more elegant holiday embellishments. I can’t recall where I found it but I came upon an old Remington typewriter. I snapped a picture of it and snuck a feel, gently placing my fingers on the keys. I joked with my friend that on sight, I drooled on the carpet. It was a beauty and I was pleased to have encountered it. It’s too bad it wouldn’t have fit in my overnight bag! Hee.

My day was full of goodness. Not only did I have a special place to lay my head, I had a fantastic meal out with my buds at Mongolie Grill. We built our own personal stir-fry. I went nuts and added chicken, prawns AND baby scallops to my mountain of veggies tossed in peanut sauce. It was my first visit and I really enjoyed it but more importantly I enjoyed the company of my chosen family. I arrived back at the Inn to a flower delivery from my buds out West! I had just finished feeling weepy and grateful after reading my best bud’s card and opening her generous gift, coming back to the fragrant arrangement only prolonged my sob-fest. I felt loved and that is never a bad thing. They were a challenge to take home the next morning but I carefully transported them and they are proudly perched high on a shelf in my kitchen far away from my cat’s clutches! Anything new in town, she chews on. Bugger.

Back at the Inn, I chatted with my big brother on the phone, soaked in a hot bath, tucked into my book (Mitch Albom’s ‘The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto’) and then crawled up into the big feather bed and sunk in for a relaxing sleep. The Waverley Inn is directly across from Bearly’s House of Blues and my room was in front, directly above the entrance, so I fell asleep to the sultry thump and twang of the blues. Of course, I slept with my window open as they keep the Inn hot as Haiti and I prefer the cool when I sleep. It was, in a word, Heavenly.

I confess, I woke around 5am and likely rattled the whole place awake with a rather violent sneezing fit. I gather it was the abundance of feathers both in my pillows and mattress. I forgot to bring Benadryl just in case.  I did tire silly old self out and fall back to sleep but it was a small price to pay for a deep contented sleep, the likes I have not had in months on end. It was a good feeling, to be free, momentarily, of stress and responsibility. And for that, I can never thank my beautiful West Coast buds enough.

I shot out of bed around 8ish, threw on my hoodie and my sock monkey slippers and scuffed on down into the basement for breakfast. They have a lovely dining room, which at this time of year, was sparse with patrons, so I basically had it to myself. I helped myself to a cup of freshly brewed coffee, a nip of orange juice, ham and cheese quiche with fruit and yogurt. I sat quietly, listening to the Christmas music playing overhead and daydreamed. I thought about what it must have been like in 1882, in Halifax, when the two spinster sisters, Sarah and Jane Romans ran the Inn. I am sure that Oscar Wilde, with his hats, capes, velvet green pantaloons and wavy hair, caused quite a stir when he breezed in. For a figure so stylish, it would have been a strange sight for the time period and I’m sure the sisters had interesting opinions of their most famous guest.

My evening with Oscar Wilde was exceptional. It was peaceful and exciting, entertaining and soulful, calming and invigorating. All at once. I spent much needed quality time with my ‘self’. I hummed and mused, read and wrote, laughed and cried, slept and dreamed, rested and danced. All at once. This is an extremely rare occasion for me, I am sure it is for most of us, so I made sure to appreciate every single second. I am uncertain if even I can describe with words, just how much the gift meant to me. The stay, the time spent alone, the time spent exploring, dining with my people and sleeping to dream. Nothing else has ever compared to the feeling I arrived with or the one I came away with. That is my wish for the people I love, to have that kind of day, birthday. We all deserve it.

To my West Coast buds, incredible women, thank you. Your generosity is astounding and I am a thousand steps beyond grateful, not only for your dazzling gift but for your kinship and the extraordinary way you impress it on my life.

To my chosen family, I love you guys more than I care to mention. I am so fortunate to have found you in all the 7.3 billion humans on the planet. You bring so much happiness into my days and I will forever be thankful for that. My circle of friends is small but it is mighty and that you are among them is important to me.

My Mom was really excited to hear all about my adventure upon my return home. I snuggled in with her and showed her all the pictures and recounted all of the moments. She’s the best cheerleader anyone could ever ask for.  I enjoyed sharing it with her and she loved living vicariously through me via a grand kindness bestowed by darling friends.

Nic and Oscar’s excellent adventure sadly ended but won’t soon be forgotten, its effects still ripple through me, that’s amazing.

In propinquity,

Nic