My Weekend with Leonard
When I was 15 I spent Shabbat with Leonard Cohen. I know what you’re thinking. And no. There was no funny business and I am not a Sister of Mercy. This happened in 2005 when Leonard was 71 and I knew nothing of his music. Or, his reputation for being a love connoisseur and prolific poet. What I did know was that my grandma despised his music so my grandpa would sneak his CDs on when she shuffled off to the bathroom.
Needless to say, my grandpa was a fan and I loved my grandpa, so when he invited me to Leonard Cohen Night, I said yes. We arrived at the Fairmont Hotel and took two seats in the back. To fend off sleep, I stuck an apple in a wine glass and sketched it on a napkin. The conference must have ended, as a tall wiry man with a grey mustache stood in front of our table, observing my drawing. “Have you drawn that for Leonard?” He asked.
I looked up at him and then down at my sketch, “No, but he can have it if he likes.” The man laughed and introduced himself, “I’m Dr. Kim Solez, I teach Pathology and Medicine at the University of Alberta and I’m also a self-acclaimed Cohen Aficionado! Are you enjoying the event so far?”
“Oh, yes,” my grandpa said, “You know, I’ve been following Leonard’s work for quite some time now. He’s what you call, A true artist.”
“Indeed! I find him fascinating myself. That’s why I’ve put together this little event for the last three years. My dream one day is for Leonard to join us.”
“Oh! Wouldn’t that be something?” Grandpa said.
“Well, that’s the goal! I’m already delivering a life-sized birthday card to his home in Montreal this winter.”
“Oh, are you? Well isn’t that interesting! How did you arrange that?” Grandpa asked.
“Years of nagging. Speaking of. Do you think I could put your drawing on the card? I’m sure Leonard would enjoy it and we can give him a little magnifying glass to look into.”
“Yes, sure! That sounds cool.” I said and turned to grandpa. He was beaming. “Here.” I passed the drawing to Dr. Solez and he folded the napkin and gently placed it in his inner suit pocket.
“Will you be joining us for the music portion of the night?” Dr. Solez asked.
“Yes, we’ll be there,” Grandpa said
Later that evening, we returned to the Fairmont Hotel. Sitting at a table of 30 to 40-year-olds, I excused myself for some fresh air. Walking into the hallway outside, I found a blanket with a robodog barking and walking on the spot. The sound of electronic movements hovered above its heads. I kneeled down and played with it.
“You made it!” I looked up to see Dr. Solez.
“Yes, grandpa’s inside. I just needed a bit of air.”
“Well, that’s alright! I see that not only are you Leonard’s youngest fan but you like my robodog, too!” I looked down at the electronic dog, now tumbled over, its legs rotating in the air.
I smiled and shrugged, “Sure, it's pretty cool I guess. Good if you have allergies.”
“That’s exactly right, Netanya. Robodogs are great for people that can’t own a real dog. You know, I was thinking since meeting you this morning, that perhaps you’d like to join me and my research partner Nikki in delivering Leonard’s birthday card in Montreal. What do you say?”
I looked up at Dr. Solez. “Really? You want me to join you? Is it because of my drawing?”
“Well, yes! And I think Leonard would love to meet his youngest fan in Edmonton."
I’d never been to Montreal before or travelled with a strange old man. “I’ll have to ask my parents,” I said.
“Of course! Well, I’ll let you enjoy the rest of the evening and I look forward to talking to you more later!”
I went back inside to tell grandpa the news. He was blown away and certain he could convince my parents to let me go.
After a brief email exchange, Dr. Solez explained to my parents that the trip would be all-inclusive and paid for, including the B&B, food and taxis. And by some miracle, my parents agreed to let me go. True to his word, in late September, Dr. Solez flew the three of us, himself, Nikki Olsen and me to Montreal. I had no idea what to expect, so I packed all my favourite items: a grey wool suit jacket, my beloved purple and blue balloon skirt, my aubergine scarf. I was ready to meet Leonard.
After arriving at the hotel, we quickly got ready and took a taxi to Leonard’s. We arrived at a tall and narrow brick home in Plateau Mont-Royal in Old Montreal. Dr. Solez knocked on the large dark gray front door. A young, beautiful Hawaiian woman opened the door and let us in. She told us Leonard would be down in just a moment and led us to the living room. It was small and cozy. There was a bathtub in the kitchen and a large wooden dining room table on the right near the wall, covered with cheeses and fruits. Together we set up the human-sized card with four panels and three rods. Only moments later Leonard shuffled into the living room wearing a black turtleneck and a gray newsboy cap.
“Come in, friends. Sit down, friends. Have some wine, friends.” He said with his hands clasped gently before him and a slight hunch in his back. A warm smile spread across his face.
In a matter of moments, we went from being complete strangers to guests. Dr. Solez greeted him ecstatically and introduced us. Then we all wished Leonard a happy birthday and showed him the card. Leonard took a moment to observe the many messages that filled the two sides. Dr. Solez quickly whipped out the tiny magnifying glass for Leonard to look into, which he did. Stooping over my drawing he asked, “You drew this?” I looked over at the apple in a wine glass. “Yes,” I said, now wishing I had drawn something a little more relevant.
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” He continued to observe the rest of his birthday card, smiling and nodding until an appropriate amount of time had passed to move on. Then he beckoned us to sit at the table. He sat at the head of the table next to the Hawaiin woman. He introduced her as Ajami, his partner. Dr. Solez, Nikkie and I sat on the opposite end of the table.
While passing around the cheese dish, Leonard asked us questions on where we had come from and what it was like to grow up in Edmonton. He asked me about the Jewish community back home and if I liked living there. Since it had been Friday night, Leonard set up two metal candle holders at the edge of the table and inserted tall teal candlesticks into each one. Then he lit the candles and sang the blessing to bring Shabbat in. Then he played his latest record.
He settled back at his spot at the table and Dr. Solez pulled out a few black and white photographs of Leonard with two young blonde women. He asked if Leonard remembered who they were.
“I don’t know, but they look very young.” He said while gazing at the photos and smiling.
“Those were the Sisters of Mercy!” Said Dr. Solez, “You met them at the Fairmont Hotel in Edmonton and wrote a song about them. Remember?”
“Oh, I’ve done far too many drugs in my day to remember such details as those.” He said while shaking his head in amusement.
Then Dr. Solez asked how Leonard felt about losing millions after his manager sold his albums. And Leonard said he never knew he had millions so he never felt he lost them.
The table paused a moment. I looked around at Dr. Solez and Nikki, they looked a bit flushed. Nervous, I guess. Then Leonard caught a glimpse of a man walking past the window. “That’s my friend who I play music with on the corner sometimes. Hold on a moment.” He picked up a couple of items from the table and left the house. When he came back we took a photo together and kneeled in front of his birthday card.
The next day we made our way to a photography exhibit. While looking at the photographs, Dr. Solez exclaimed at his flip phone, “I can’t believe it!” He shrieked. “I missed a call from Leonard and he left me a voicemail!”
He played the message on speaker and we all huddled together to listen. Leonard’s deep, calming voice streamed out from the small speaker, “Hello friends. Would you like to come by again tomorrow to say hello and goodbye?” Dr. Solez couldn’t help but feel giddy and I was happy to go along for the ride.
Since there wasn’t much for a 14, 22 and 60-year-old to do together aside from eating and going to the movies, we went to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. While sitting in the theatre waiting for the movie to start I noticed a familiar face, someone I couldn’t quite place. I nudged Nikkie “Do you know who that is?” Following my gaze, she shrugged, “No, who is it?”
Then it hit me as he was walking up the theatre stairs for the second time in a row, “It’s CRAIG!” I whispered, “From Degrassi the Next Generation!”
“You seem really excited about it,” Nikkie laughed, “Go over and say hi. I’m sure he would love it. Looks like he’s trying to get noticed anyway, doesn’t it?” I looked over at the Canadian actor. He did seem to be looking around a lot.
“Go!” Nikkie whispered, “Before it’s too late.”
I took a deep breath and got up to follow in Craig’s direction. Sure enough, there he was sitting on the right next to the stairs. A shining star in all his glory. He seemed to be sitting with an older woman. I crouched next to his seat and asked if he was Craig, from Degrassi. He lit up and a huge smile spread across his face. “Yes! Would you like a photo?”
“Sure!” I said, but quickly realized I didn’t have a camera. “Um, I left my camera in my bag.”
“Oh, that’s ok! Let’s go to your row then.” I watched him get up out of his chair and together we walked over to my seat. I motioned to Nikkie to take our photo. She quickly got up and stood in the aisle, switching spots with Craig. I sat in my seat and Craig put his arm around me. While Nikkie was taking our photo, we smiled for the camera then Craig turned to me and said it was a tradition to see the Harry Potter movies with his mom. I thanked him for the photo and as he was leaving our row I whispered over, “Enjoy Harry Potter with your mom!”
The next morning we made our way back over to Leonard’s. He served us chocolate milk and Thai food. Dr. Solez introduced Leonard to his robodog, and I played with it at the end of the table, while they talked politics and technology.
Before leaving, Leonard sat at his kitchen table with a small stack of books. He signed each one and before handing one to me he looked me straight in the eye and said, “Don’t read this. It’s a bunch of nonsense.” I laughed and accepted the book, and thanked him for the gift. In the taxi heading back to the B&B, I looked down at the book in my hands. It was a dark blue book that said in all capped red letters, “Leonard Cohen Book of Mercy”. In the center was a gold Magen David made of two hearts. I opened the front cover and flipped the first page. There on cream paper and in black pen was Leonard’s handwritten note. It looked like a poem:
“for Netanya
I’m so glad your parents
let you come
so happy you find my
work useful
- Leonard
Montreal
November 2005
That evening we flew back to Edmonton. I retold the whole story to my grandpa and showed him the Book of Mercy. I tried to share as many moments as I could: Ajami Leonard's partner, The Sisters of Mercy, Leonard’s turtle neck and newsboy cap, the human-sized birthday card, the Shabbos candles, the record player, and of course Craig from Degrassi the Next Generation. My grandpa’s light blue eyes sparkled. He laughed and cherished every part of the story.
“You know most people never have an opportunity to meet Leonard in his home as you did. You have a very special kinship with Leonard. Very special.” My grandpa would say.
Over the years I became a Leonard Cohen fan myself, falling in love with Famous Blue Raincoat and The Stranger Song. The deceit, the misery, the heartbreak, the acceptance, repentance, love. His music played in the background of my life and painted memories with a flourished depth only Leonard knew how. When I moved to New York City for University I lived on the Lower East Side on Grand and Clinton. It seemed Leonard had guided me there, “New York is cold, but I like where I’m living. There’s music on Clinton Street all through the evening.”
No matter where in the world I lived, Edmonton, New York, or Israel, Leonard Cohen always brought me back to my grandpa. A cherished bond we shared through his music and that magical weekend that all started at the Fairmont Hotel.
On November 7, 2016, Leonard passed away at 82 years old. By then, I had moved to Tel Aviv to start my career as a copywriter. When I heard the news I looked back at the Book of Mercy and recalled our Shabbat together. I also thought about my grandpa and how close in age they were.
Just five years later, on March 11, 2021, exactly one month after his 90th birthday, my grandpa lay in a hospital bed next to my mother and grandma. I sat at my home office in Tel Aviv and watched him on Zoom. Closing Time streamed in the background as I sketched his final few breaths in my notebook.