I am at the Gallagher’s Coffee Bar & Cafe in Port Moody
James Pomeroy passed away in April 2016 at the age of forty-six. He was my English tutor when I was transitioning to post-secondary education. After that he became my friend. He lived in Port Moody and we met periodically. He was also the first person to compliment and offer constructive criticism for my writing, especially the piece concerning my other friend who had passed away a few years before.
Ironically, I found out about both of their deaths through Facebook. James had given his condolence and read my lament for the first time, saying that I made him proud for teaching me to write in English. Little did I know at that time that James himself would become the topic for another blog post. It is a cruel twist.
The local café where James and I used to meet is still in business, so last week I went there for his favourite drink: a cup of latte with a shot of espresso. It was my way of remembering him. I could imagine him sitting the opposite side of the table, smiling at me.
James once told me that his surname, “Pomeroy” means “apple king.” I will remember James when I eat an apple. He was like a big brother to me, so I wish that someday I will befriend a much younger person and make a good memory or two for him. That wish is now a goal and I consider it his parting gift for me. I will learn from our time together. I hope I meet more people like him in the future.