Mi Casa es Donde?

The subject of where we should live is a popular one in our house. At least once a week one of us will launch into a verbal daydream of life in Vancouver, Sydney, California, France etc. and the other one will enthusiastically join in. That is the problem I suppose with having done a lot of traveling - it makes you realize that you could live anywhere. We have both always made a point of not living our lives by default. A lot of people just sort of end up where they are and we don't want that to happen to us. We want it to be a choice - the result of a lot of thought and consideration. Having said that, there are sometimes so many factors to consider that it becomes overwhelming.

We chose Calgary initially because we thought it would be nice to be near our families again after living away for so long. From that perspective Calgary has been wonderful and now that we have a child it is even more important. Having said that, Calgary falls short in almost every other category we consider important. It's not hot enough, it lacks culture and diversity and a certain warmth. The politics drive us crazy and we will never really get the chance to know what it feels like to vote for a winning party. The city council is short-sighted. There is no decent recycling program and our economy is based on oil&gas which has obvious environmental complications. The best things about Calgary are proximity to the mountains, the fact that we can get out of the city really quickly and the friends and family we have here. All of them important things to consider.

The place we envision is warm, full of fresh food markets, arts districts, vital cultural communities, forward thinking urban planners and government, and alive. The problem is that Brian's chosen field limits us somewhat and so does our desire to stay close to family. If we won the lottery tomorrow we would move to New York city - we both love it there so much and although we know it isn't warm it so easily meets all the other criteria that we are willing to overlook that. But New York is not where our family is and it wouldn't take long for us to miss them and our weekly trips to the mountains. Brian wants to move to France but that's pretty far away and France has its own host of issues. We've also considered Vancouver and Montreal but always end up putting off the decision for another day.

It's so hard to know where to live and I wish you could go somewhere for 6 months at a time and try it on for size. I also wish you could pack up your loved ones and bring them along for the ride.

Four Years...

These are the roses that showed up at my house yesterday. Today is our 4th wedding anniversary and I can't help but feel reflective. Marriage is a complicated, and often difficult, but more often wonderful, thing that us humans enter into. I am not someone who believes that marriage is for everyone and neither am I someone who spent my younger years dreaming of my wedding. Having said that I still think it is the best thing I ever did. For me marriage is about friendship, patience, growth, support and the profound opportunity to be a witness to another person's life. It is about sharing all the good and all the bad with someone else so that when all is said and done, there is an account of your existence. Marriage is unique in that it is the only opportunity you will ever have to choose your family. Parents, siblings, children - they are all genetically predetermined, but a spouse is a choice and that makes it both special and terrifying.

I will admit that there have been days (the bulk of them occurring post-baby) where I have questioned marriage - my own and the practice more generally. It is hard sometimes and annoying to have to take someone else into consideration all the time. It would be nice to do what I wanted, when I wanted and think only of myself. There are days when I miss living on my own. But like anything in life, there are the other days. The mornings in bed where I am warm and cuddled and in love and the sun is shining in the window and I get to plan a day with my very best friend. The days when I feel frustrated and I have someone there to make me feel better. The knowledge that I have chosen, and been chosen, to be a part of something that lasts for the rest of our lives. Those days both outnumber and outweigh the days where I'm not as convinced. And for that I feel lucky.

Thank you Brian for being so funny, smart, patient, kind and generous. And for always putting the toilet seat down. I love you with all of my heart.

To Paisley: Eight Months Old

Autumn has always been my favourite season, even though it makes me feel a little sad and nostalgic. The falling leaves remind me of my childhood for some reason and of course, of the summer that has past. This fall has been gorgeous and although the leaves have all turned yellow, the days are as sunny and warm as they were this summer. You and I have tried to make the most of the nice weather and have been getting outside as much as we can. My Grandma firmly believed that a baby must be outside every single day and I think of her often. We go outside every day - even if it's just to sit on the front step and watch the squirrels. You love being outside and I think it's good for both of us to get fresh air.


I started working again this month. A contract writing job sort of just fell into my lap and I grabbed onto it with more voracity than I would have expected. I was happier to be working than I thought I would. It's funny how sometimes life gives you exactly what you need before you even know you need it. The job is just a few hours a week but I have loved having something else to think about besides you, and how clean the house is. I have always loved cleaning but if I have too much time on my hands, and too much time in the house, it starts to mean more to me than it should. It's not normal to see shoes left at the front door as a personal insult.

You and your Dad started swimming lessons this month and it's going, well, swimmingly. The first Saturday of lessons your Dad said to me (while heading out the door) "So this is for Dads and babies right? I won't be the only guy in the pool will I?"
"Um, nope. It's for parents and babies. So, yah, you might be the only guy in the pool. Have fun!"
Then I pushed you both out the door, locked it, got naked, threw on some Holly McNarland, made myself 6 pina coladas and enjoyed the first half hour I had had to myself in eight months (well, 17 if you want to get technical). As it turns out, I wasn't the only Mom securing herself some free time and the swimming class consisted mostly of Dads. I think it's great that you two have this thing together and Paisley, I have to say, not every girl can rock a two piece like you do.


You are sitting up now! You could sit up when you were 7 months technically but it wasn't reliable. You would usually topple over or fall forward so that you were stuck in a very uncomfortable looking position. Now you sit and you stay sitting. You can play and move and very rarely fall over. You are also getting very mobile. One day a couple of weeks ago I looked over and you had somehow managed to make your way from the living room into the dining room. I was so shocked when I looked over and you were three feet closer to me than you were a few minutes before. You are FAST! I still don't know how you did it but I was impressed. You grab more, climb more, roll more and just generally interact with the world (which apparently still consists mostly of my face and hair) more than you did when you were little. You have discovered the baby in the mirror and you love visiting with her. You smile, talk and grab at her face. It's pretty cute.


The last few weeks have been hard on me and your Dad. For some reason you started waking up in the night again - sometimes three of four times a night. That coupled with you needing more of my energy during the day has left me feeling tired and drained at times. I had read all kinds of websites and books saying I should let you cry it out or not pick you up from your crib during the night. Maybe they are right but at the end of the day it just doesn't feel right. When you cry I go in and I cuddle you and feed you and within minutes you are back asleep. If it continues there may come a point where I will change my approach but right now this feels right. Exhausting but right. I can't help but think that it won't be very long until I won't be able to make things all better and soothe you the way I can now so I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.


You are still gummy and toothless and teething. I had no idea that teething could last so long! You chew on everything and then, after it is dripping in drool, you inspect it like a scientist. Looking at it intently, close up, then far away, every corner, then tasting it again. You seem to have developed a real love for the handsets from our phone and will stare at them from across the room. This morning I gave you my cell phone about a minute before the alarm was set to go off. At 7:30 it started to ring and light up and vibrate whilst in your chubby little fist/mouth/fist. You looked at it, like "Wait a goddamn minute. What is going on here?" and then you smiled. It was a funny smile, a smile of recognition. "Oh, right. That vibrating, ringing thing. It's YOU."


Because you were born a month early, this birthday marks the point at which you have been in the world longer than you were in my belly. I remember the first three months of being pregnant felt like a year, and then the other five felt like another year. These past eight months with you have been the fastest eight months of my entire life. That might just be because they have also been the best.

Love,
Mama

Walk to Cure Diabetes 2008

This weekend my whole family got together to participate in the JDRF Walk to Cure Diabetes. It was the first time we did it but I am hoping it will become a yearly tradition. I have to say that a number of times along the 5km route I glanced around to see the people I love most in the world, all walking beside me and tears came to my eyes. You know that feeling you get at the end of a really great movie where your heart swells because it feels like it could just burst with...something? Joy? Love? Wonder? Anyway, that was how I felt on Sunday. There were a lot of little kids there and a lot of families and it felt good to know that we were helping to raise money (nearly $900!!) and that my family was supporting me in the process. I am a very lucky girl, even if I do have diabetes.

My First Mother's Day

Having had Paisley has made me think so much about what things must have been like for my own Mother when she had me. It's kind of neat that she had me at almost exactly the same time as I had Paisley because it's easier to imagine. I know how pregnant she was in the fall or at Christmas and what sort of things I was doing as the season changed from winter into summer. I have it better than she had it though and I didn't really realize that until now. My Mom had only been in Canada a short time before they had me. She moved to Fort McMurray in September of 1977 and I was born the following February. She knew nobody. It was dark and cold in Fort Mac in the winter and my Dad worked long shift hours. My Mom spent her time in a small apartment with no TV and only the radio to keep her company. It's no wonder I love CBC as much as I do. I imagine the 27 year-old version of my mother and I feel for her. She most have felt overwhelmed, in a new country with her own mother so very far away. With little money and no help or support or friendship. No mommy bloggers or baby websites to turn to with fears or questions. No fancy car seats and strollers and no where to go with them.

I wish I could travel to that time and place and show up at her door. I would take baby Caroline in my arms (who by all accounts was a very energetic little one) and put on a pot of tea and we would chat. I would let her take a nap or tell her a funny story. I would take her to a movie or watch the baby so she and Dad could go out. I would tell her that it would be get better and that soon she would make wonderful friends that she would still have 30 years from now. And I would tell that little baby how lucky she is and to be good. To think twice before she heated the marbles in the frying pan next to the brand new (very meltable!) counter top. To refrain from starting the petition against the choirmaster at school or throwing Dad's gold ring down the air vent. That she should never get a perm and that air drying her hair will always produce the best results. And I would tell her to always appreciate how lucky and blessed she is to have such a kind and wonderful mother. I would tell little baby Caroline that she would sometimes feel misunderstood and alone but that she would one day realize she had never really been either and that she and her Mother would become the best of friends. And I would tell that 27-year-old woman to stop and appreciate the small moments and laugh as much as she could because very soon her little baby girl would be all grown up and have a daughter of her own.

Even though I am now a Mom I know that the hardest parts are yet to come. Right now I have to feed Paisley and cuddle her and make sure she is comfortable. I do not have to discipline her or help her to navigate difficult situations. I can only hope that by the time I get there I will feel a lot more equipped and a little more rested.

Oh, and I finally got my copy of Infinite Jest...thanks Brian Paisley.

Home

Yesterday I went for a long walk with Paisley. We went to the 2nd hand bookstore where I looked unsuccessfully for Infinite Jest. That book is way too long to get on hold from the library. As I was leaving the store and heading to the coffee shop I smelled something that literally stopped me in my tracks. There were men re-tarring a roof across the street and the sticky hotness of melted tar filled the air. I was immediately back in Fort McMurray in the summer time. I would meet my Dad at the bus stop and he would pick me up and swing me around as soon as he stepped off the Diversified bus that took him and the other men to work and back each day. His clothes, his hair, his hands, all smelled like tar sands from being in the plant all day. It smelled like work and heat and oil and, well, home.

The Fort McMurray that I called home for more than 20 years is gone. It has doubled, nearly tripled, in size since I left and the house I grew up in is occupied by people I don't know. The community is in crisis and is bursting at the seams. The infrastructure is insufficient and the crime rate is high. It is congested, crowded and dingy.

When we were kids growing up in Fort Mac we knew everyone on our street. Almost every person we knew had immigrated from another country. I had friends from England, Africa, Guadalupe, Trinidad, South America, India and of course, Newfoundland. It was safe and small and friendly.

I am envious of people, like Brian, who have their childhood home to go back to. I don't know that they appreciate what they have. My parents and siblings have moved south so there is nobody left to visit. All of my memories are locked up in a city I never visit and a piece of me will always stay there, suspended. I often long to go back and lie in the grass of my backyard or play basketball on the courts outside the junior high. To see people who knew me when I was a kid and bump into old teachers at the mall. While there is something to be said for starting fresh it is nice to encounter your younger self every once and awhile.

Today while walking to Starbucks I had exactly that. A fleeting moment where I was a kid again. When the most exciting part of my day was hearing the bus engine rumble its way down the street and me and my brothers would go flying, barefoot, down to the corner to see our Dad emerge from the folding doors. All the men would saunter down the street and shout their good-byes as they took their children's hands and heading into their homes for dinner.

A Green Christmas

The months and weeks leading up to Christmas this year had left me feeling a little jaded about the entire holiday. I saw so many people wandering aimlessly down aisles filled with crap, looking for whatever random object fit into their budget, their wish list and their cart. I saw kids making their Christmas wish lists by walking down the aisle at Wal-Mart and pointing, "I want this! And I want that!" It really made me feel ill. We were shorter on money this year than we have been in the past what with baby coming and me leaving work so it was even harder to find nice things for the people that we love. I did a lot of baking and gave that away which worked well and we managed to find something special for each person on our list but it did make me think a lot about Christmas and what it all means. I made a promise to myself that next year I would make a point of buying things made in Canada, with less packaging and using recycled wrapping paper. Christmas doesn't have to be such a huge waste of energy, spirit and money.

As it turns out, I didn't really have to worry. We did well by our family and we all, without discussing it amongst ourselves, obviously made an effort to keep Christmas reasonable and green. My brother had the best wrapping idea ever and gave each of us our Christmas presents in a green, re-usable shopping bag - a gift in itself! I got dryer balls, all natural laundry soap and cleaners, books and organic clothes for the baby. (I also got the most beautiful diamond earrings from Brian - I'm so lucky!) There were bamboo socks, organic, fair trade chocolates and coffee...it was good. Nobody went crazy and everyone had obviously put a lot of thought and consideration into their gifts - it made for a wonderful Christmas.

I have decided to go off line for the next little while. The internet has started to take up a lot of time in my life and for the next little while I will allow myself to be consumed entirely by sleeping, spending time with family and friends and eating whenever and whatever I can.

Also, to those of you who traditionally might receive Christmas cards from me? Ummm...I've written up about 25 cards and even addressed them but to be perfectly honest, I probably won't mail them. My apologies. If it makes you feel any better I promise I will recycle them.

Thoughts in pairs...

I've been thinking about relationships a lot lately. About boyfriends and girlfriends, newly married couples and couples of who have been together so long that they have merged into a singularity of sorts. I've always sort of taken them for granted and never given the relationships of the people around me all that much thought. It sounds selfish but I guess a lot of people are mostly concerned about their own relationship and how they feel about it. If it's bad you worry about it and if it's good you lose yourself in it.

A few of the relationships in my life have become a little rocky as of late and I guess it has forced me to sit up and pay more attention to what is going on. I have friends who are working through an affair and have only been married a couple of years, I have a friend who has found a new love and is negotiating what their life together will look like, I know a couple with a brand new baby who are now trying to establish a new rhythm in their life, and I know people in marriages that do not fulfill them or nourish them and who have been pretending for most of their marriage that they are still in love. I know people who are most definitely in love and are fighting like hell to make sure it stays that way.

Relationships, no matter how perfect at first, have rough spots and are not always easy. There are also days where you feel like you could just hold that person and stay that way for the rest of your life...without food, or work, or money, surviving on that overwhelming feeling of oneness that can make you feel so full you could explode. And there are days where you are tired and you take the person for granted or even worse, are mean to them. It's a complicated dance and ideally, it lasts for a very long time. A conversation that you can't necessarily remember starting and hopefully will never really finish.

Love is not something that should exist on a back burner. It needs to be fed and recognized and fostered. I feel really lucky in my life that I have found someone who I love so much and who truly is my best friend. I also know, from watching the people around me, that things can change quickly and that if you leave it too long and things get cold it is not easy to warm them back up. I feel a sense of re-commitment as of late - a commitment to make sure my marriage and life is as good as I can make it, a determination to never let life take over living and a promise to myself and to my husband that I will never underestimate how important it is to be kind and good to the person you love.

Vancouver...and assorted ramblings

Vancouver, as always, was wonderful. We ate every type of Asian food you can think of (best Korean food since Korea), walked until our bodies ached and managed to squeeze in the art gallery, the aquarium, Granville Island, Stanley Park and Robson Street into a handful of days. Not too shabby. We stayed with my Aunt and Uncle (who are two of the most relaxed, fun and wonderful people in the world) at their B&B. It's pretty neat to be able to fly to Vancouver and stay with great people in a beautiful place and put it all on the "family" tab.

While walking the many streets we walked this weekend, Brian and I got to talking about living in Vancouver. I'm pretty finished with Calgary, I have to be honest but I've been leaning towards Victoria as opposed to Vancouver. I love Vancouver - but I don't like the rain or the crazy house prices. Having said that, I was able to get my head around it this past weekend and it seemed like a more viable option that it has in the past. It wouldn't be for awhile either way but it's good to have plans in the back of your mind.

We told my Aunt and Uncle about baby and they were pretty excited. It's fun that our families are so into this because it makes it so much bigger than just us. Sure, we're going to be parents but my brothers will be first time Uncles, my parents first time Grandparents and this is the first baby of this generation in my whole extended family. It's pretty neat.

Life in a Revolving Restaurant...

This past weekend we went to Edmonton for my Dad's surprise party. He's been staying up and working on the house for the past few weeks and I was really missing him. His birthday actually isn't until June but since my brothers and their ladies are all headed off for various countries very soon, we decided to celebrate a little early. Dad had no idea what was coming. As far as he knew, he was going for a nice dinner with Mum and Craig and Bobbi and when he showed up there were 15 other people there. My Aunt and Uncle and cousins, some of our oldest and dearest family friends, my other brother and his girlfriend and of course, Brian and I. The look on his face when he saw us was pure magic.

I have found over the past few years that how I look at my parents has really changed. When I was younger they were "Mum and Dad" - older, wiser, funny but at the end of the day, my parents. Now that I am an adult I see them as more than just my parents. I see them as complete individuals, as a couple but also independent of each other. I recognize myself in them and I see their lives with greater clarity and a sense of recognition. I am able to see myself in them in a way I never could before. This has been a wonderful gift for me and I feel like I have a far deeper understanding of how they must have felt at different points along their life, because I have experienced a lot of the same things in my life now. With this greater connection also comes a greater understanding of pain and how difficult and complicated life can be. I see them struggle with growing older and know that I will have the same struggle. I see them making adjustments as they move to a new stage of their life and I watch and learn.

My Dad really is an amazing man. I watched him on Saturday night as he went to every single person in the room and made them feel valued and special. He had kind words for each person and they were personal and genuine. He has an energy that lights up a room and makes every one in it feel like they are the most important person there. He has a vulnerability that he does not try to hide and it makes people feel like they can be vulnerable too...like they can just relax and be who they are. I was so happy to see him there surrounded by people who love him and respect him and I hope he knew, at that moment, how truly loved he is.

Breathing...

Throughout my life I've often felt a little culturally disconnected - I always wanted to be able to identify myself as one thing or another and never really could. My parents grew up in Africa but my mother's roots are Scottish. My father is South African but his parents were originally from Scotland and the Isle of Man. Then they moved to Canada and I grew up in Alberta. I took Scottish dancing when I was young and identified strongly with Scotland through my Grandma and the time I spent there. But I always felt like a bit of a fake. I grew up eating South African food and hearing African stories and visited there many times as a child and then as an adult. Africa is in my blood and I feel a love for South Africa that runs deep and makes no rational sense. There have been times where I think I should move there and live the life that is rightfully mine and fight with the Africans to reclaim a country of power and beauty and justice. But I'd get killed doing it and I have to face the fact that I don't belong. At the end of the day I'm a Canadian. There is nothing wrong with being a Canadian, in fact it's wonderful. But sometimes I feel envious of people who wear their ethnic clothes and eat their food and know, without a doubt, where they come from and who they are.

Last night we went to see the Soweto Gospel Choir, more for the Soweto aspect than for the Gospel. They were everything I expected and more - colourful, vibrant and achingly beautiful. Their voices, singing in Zulu, Xhosa and some English told the story of South Africa and the struggles of the blacks. They were songs and sounds that are familiar to me because I have heard them being sung by many Africans in Africa. I felt like such an outsider watching them dance and sing and I ached to feel a part of it. I watched my Mum and Dad who were sitting next to me and I imagined they must have felt some similar feelings - Africa is their homeland, the place where they grew up and yet, white people are depicted often as Africa's conquerors and tyrants. It makes me sad to think that my parents might feel as isolated and uprooted as I sometimes do.

I did a lot of thinking while listening to the choir - about people and communities and how we work better as a group than as individuals. I thought about Africa and the future of that continent and how many horrible things it has experienced. I thought about white people and how rigid and pursed we often are. I thought about life and what connects me to the people who are living on the same planet at the same time as me and for a fleeting moment that feeling of disconnect disappeared. For one beautiful second I felt a sense of communion with every person on that stage, in that room and on this earth. It was good.

In sickness and in health...

It's easy to take things for granted when there is so much to take for granted. It's easy to stop thanking people or for the beauties of everyday life to become nothing but the backdrop. When things don't end up the way you want or you get thrown a curve-ball it's easy to miss how lucky you still are.

I've always prided myself on being able to find good in everyone and everything. It's a trait I learned/inherited from my Grandma. Bombs could be falling all around her and she would remark on the blueness of the sky. She didn't have an easy life but her attitude helped to make it a good one.

Throughout this diabetes thing there have been fleeting moments of self pity and of anger. The unfairness of it all and the incense that it could be me. Then I think of the people in the world who are born in abject poverty or who have had far, far worse things happen to them and I feel sheepish.

The one thing I have come to appreciate even more than I already did is the Canadian health care system. You hear people complaining about it (which confirms my ever-strengthening theory that Canadians love to complain - it's part of our self-deprecating psyches) but when you need it, it just swoops in there like a net. I have seen doctors, dietitians and nurses and I have seen them within weeks of my diagnosis and hours at a time. There is a whole clinic set up in Calgary just for diabetic women who are pregnant or trying to get pregnant. They set up lab tests, ultrasounds and specialist appointments with warmth, speed and efficiency. And it doesn't cost a thing. I feel like I have had better care than I probably would anywhere else in the world and I draw real comfort from that knowledge that it isn't in any way related to my race or income. It feels good to know that any woman who found herself in this position would receive good care. Because after all, those who cannot pay for it usually need it most.

It's not perfect and like anything in life, our health-care system could use some improvements. It could also use some of our gratitude.

Twenty-nine

Despite everything that has been going on lately and my recent (but shallow) dip into the waters of self-pity, I feel very lucky today. I have a wonderful family and great friends and a husband who I love more than anything. Especially when he's bearing a MAC makeup gift card. :-)

I have been thinking of my Grandma a lot lately. This is the first birthday without her and I miss her so much. She always had an amazing knack with birthday cards. It didn't matter that she lived so far away, she always managed to have my card arrive on the day of my birthday. I miss talking to her every week and the way she used to turn everything into a joke. With the new developments in my life and this birthday it has finally sunk in that my life is moving forward and she won't be there to see it. That's hard. I want to talk to her about my diabetes, I want her to see me turn 29, and 30 and 40. I want her to meet her great-grandchildren and see my new house and witness Brian being called to the bar. I want her to be with me for everything. Clearly this isn't realistic and I know that all I can do is take all of the lessons she taught me and apply them to the rest of my life. In that way she will always be with me. I feel happy that I knew her and that I loved her so much but mostly I just feel like a part of me is gone.

My existential crisis is over I think. It was never really about the number, and 29 isn't a bad age. I guess it's just adjusting to a new part of my life, and maybe having to make too many adjustments in a short amount of time. Things are good. I'm starting my insulin in March and although I don't relish the idea of injecting myself four times a day I am excited to get this thing under control. Right now I'm on oral meds but that means I am constantly watching to make sure I'm not too low. We're heading to Mexico for a week on Saturday and will be celebrating our 2nd anniversary poolside. Spring is coming and work is going well. I just got a freelance blogging job (details to follow) which will help pay the bills and keep me writing.

Like most things in life, even crises come in threes: first was my pre-birthday freak out. Now I'm faced with even bigger issues; What book do I bring to Mexico and do I spend my birthday money on a Shuffle or a Nano?

Chuffed

Proud sister brags again...

I Own Noobs

I sometimes complain that Calgary has no subcultures, no real diversity to speak of. Tonight I was proven wrong. My brother and I went to see the 12th episode ofPure Pwnage, an internet show that has taken (a certain demographic) by storm. We showed up, with pre-purchased tickets thanks to my brother, and there was already a huge line up. The line up consisted mostly of teenaged boys carrying original Nintendo guns and sporting trench coats. They were selling merchandise at the theatre and the crowd was going crazy! Before the show started they had the characters from the show (Pure Pwnage is filmed in Toronto but most of the cast is from Calgary) come out and they brought a bunch of fans to the front to do random things like, oh, I don’t know-spout off the entire dialogue from episode three. These fans were extremely devoted and apparently all had very good memories. Or no life. At one point during the evening I went to the bathroom and for the first time in my movie-going life I walked past the long lineup for the guys bathroom and right into an empty ladies room. Awesome.

It was a good night. The show was great and I got a glimpse into another world. A world where it is okay to wear videogame t-shirts and tight jeans, where it’s normal to pull out your DS at slow points in the film and where most people only knew each other by their Warcraft alias. I felt like I had ventured beyond the borders of Cowtown and I enjoyed the trip.

Hannah McGrath

Scotland was a blur. It was also an emotional roller coaster. Happy to see my Uncles and Aunt, sad to see Grandma so ill. Happy she was alive when I got there. Sad to think she would never make it back to her little apartment where we all camped out during our stay. Happy to get the chance to be there at all.

Grandma knew I had come to see her. Although she couldn't talk she was able to move and respond to voices. When I spoke to her and stroked her hair she struggled to talk to me. It was hard to see her so agitated and frustrated. We spent our days at the hospital, taking turns with Gran, talking to her, touching her, singing...whatever we could do to make her comfortable and let her know we were there. On my last day in Scotland I had to say good-bye. She managed to lift her head, turn and open her eyes...just enough so that I knew she knew. I cried and kissed her on her soft cheek and I walked away. She died on June 6th.

I feel so lucky that I was able to go and see her. My Grandma and I were very close and we spoke every week or two. It was always the highlight of my weekend...she always made me laugh and I was always so happy to hear her voice. Many people I have spoken to have been surprised at how close we were. I never saw Gran as an old person or called her out of a sense of duty. I saw here as a friend and a reflection of myself. She was my hero and my teacher and the most positive, funny person I have ever known.

Death is such a strange thing. As humans we have been practicing it for millions of years and yet, nobody really knows how to deal with it yet. I don't feel sad for Grandma because I know that she had a good life. Yes, I would have liked to have her around longer, heck I would have wanted her here forever but things just don't work that way. She wasn't afraid of death and she didn't suffer. When she died she died in peace with her kids holding her hand. It doesn't get much better than that. I grieve more for my own Mum and for myself because we will miss her. It's been hard not to consider the obvious consequence of this, which is an upward shift in generations. Now my Mother is the oldest generation and as I stood there watching my Mum cry over my Grandma's bed I knew that one day that would be me, and then my daughter. The circle of life just got a little smaller.

Off...

I apologize to anyone I ignore in the next week. I'm going to Scotland tomorrow night and won't be back until next weekend...maybe later. My Grandma is in hospital and I don't know if she's going to make it through this. It came as quite a surprise...I knew she had been admitted into hospital but didn't think it was very serious. Today Brian and I went to my Mum and Dad's house for breakfast and we got a phone call to tell us that things had taken a turn for the worse. It was a somber breakfast to say the least. I just hope I can get there in time...

Butterflies...if you throw it hard enough.

So much has been going on and I've been so busy that I've neglected writing...I hate having to play catch up. So I won't...I'll just brush over the bare details. Brian finished school and I love having him back. He's at home working on the house and being bored while loving every minute of it. I'm his sugar mama.

I've been coaching Track & Field (notice how track & field automatically gets written with an ampersand instead of the word "and"? That's really weird...has it been branded and packaged that way? How did that happen?) for the Special Olympics for a few weeks now and I am loving it. It is easily the most rewarding thing I've done and I have a lot of fun.

Work is going well. The weather has been warm. I planted a cute garden with a little shrub and a mini white picket fence and I transplanted tulips from the back and put them in the front. They promptly died. Just goes to show you what an effect your environment can have on your health!

My parents came back from Europe and my brother gets back from Nepal tonight...all the Knox's back in one country...hooray!!

Hmmm...what else have I been up to? Oh, I know...I just wrote the most boring blog post ever.

Bros and Books

I spent last weekend in Edmonton with my not-so-little-little brothers. I honestly can't remember the last time it was just the three of us. Boyfriends, girlfriends or parents are usually present so it was really great to just hang out with both of them. Craig leaves for Nepal on the 31st and is getting really excited for his trip. It's his first big adventure and what a place to start with!

I just finished A Complicated Kindness by Miriam Toews and I actually cried at the end. It was so good! It's written from the perspective of a young Mennonite girl in Manitoba (I think) and it has been resonating within my little head ever since I finished it. It was nominated for the Giller Prize so I assumed it was well written (and it was) but I never thought I would be so moved and drawn in to the lives of the characters. Awesome.

Reason for not writing much? Life is deliciously, boringly, perfect. Pain breeds literature, perfection breeds sex.

Car, job and a fixed address...

I've been made the official photographer at work...does life get any better than this? Yesterday I had an interview with the most amazing young woman, I'm doing more writing than I've ever done and today I get given a fancy new camera to play with. And I'm getting paid for this.

This past weekend my parents took Brian and I out for dinner at the Keg. The food was delicious but what I appreciated most was being able to spend time with my Mum and Dad. We headed out to Okotoks after dinner and ended up staying out there all day Sunday. Might have been because Mum cooked a big breakfast and then a chicken dinner, you can't really be sure. Either way it was really fun and relaxing. Dad and Brian went for a drive in the new car and talked engines and Mum and I just chatted. I have always gotten along really well with my parents (okay, not always but for the most part) but now we are entering a new phase it seems. They will always be my parents, and they've always been my friends but now we're all grown up and on equal footing. It's good.