Lost in an underground parking lot

Parked amid the shadows
Montreal, QC
January 2019
This photo originally shared on Instagram

Tuesday, 10:25 a.m. on the lowest level, S6, of the parking structure beneath the Jewish General Hospital in Montreal. I've just said goodbye to my father-in-law and am about to hit the road for the long drive, alone, back to London. Debbie's back upstairs with him.

The walk down here was slow, long, and pensive. Did I just see him for the last time? Did he know it was me? Did he know how much I loved him and appreciated the fact that he made so much of my life today possible?

I have no answers to any of these questions. Which likely explains why, even here in the dimly lit murk of a parking lot, I'm reluctant to leave, reluctant to put this star-crossed place firmly in my rear-view. As if by staying I might change the outcome. If only.

As I walk slowly toward our car, I feel the damp air on my face, hear the sounds of slamming car doors and starting engines in the distance, smell that weird mixture of damp concrete and dust that defines these industrial-feeling spaces. I keep looking around, for precisely what I don't know, but I need to create something, now, to record this moment before I forget what it felt like to be here.

I see this row of cars, unevenly parked behind the yellow line. The scene is imperfect, everything within it scratched, smudged, dirty. It reflects how I feel, even if shooting it fails to make me feel better in the moment. I return to our car and slowly make my way up the ramps before emerging into the cold, grey day above.

There will be no light today, no resolution, no solace. But it's still time for me to leave. For now.

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