I never got to be arrogant!

When I was in school, teachers were THE LAW. Even more of THE LAW than my parents; although my Dad could certainly give them a run for their money.

The time he went a-hollerin' to the school board and the District Supervisor over my spelling test quite shook up my view of the universe. Dad won the battle, the teacher capitulated, and "I" got the mark I had deserved in the first place.

But it was still the grownups who were THE LAW.

It wasn't until I was in university, working as a chambermaid, that it finally dawned on me that NOT all grownups were particularly bright. Since the one in question was my boss, then, with all due respect, grownups were still THE LAW.

This simple state of being a rule-follower (as long as the rule-makers made sense) was tempered by the understanding that when I had enough experience, I would become one of the rule-makers, and life would continue in this fashion of unchanging change.

Concurrent with this state of mind was the notion that great art needed emotional content borne of experience. Ordinary art simply required technical skill, which could be easily mastered.

Obviously, no average 20-something could acheive great emotional maturity, unless they happened to be American during Vietnam, or other severely mitigating circumstances. But the average rule-following little girl could safely be cocooned until, bit by bit, she could manage the most intense life experiences.

Only then, and with a good education, could one consider bringing depth, wisdom and maturity to a creative act.

Of course, I would be conscious of my now-grown-up role of THE LAW, and be graciously arrogant as the wisdom of my years flowed over the new generation, who would acquiesce to my great fund of knowledge and experience, unquestioning my authority as they found their way to pinnacles of achievement.

Something happened while I was learning that sex and love were not always the same thing. The reasons for breaking up a marriage weren't the same good reasons for breaking up with a boyfriend. I came close to losing my own life while creating new life. Uncomprehending the loss of the one person who was never supposed to die.

I am never going to be THE LAW. Sadly, many many people live lives with the warmth and depth of spilled coffee. They know it all, they have it all, they remain innocent of what could be. I suspect a good many will blithely stay that way, and proceed accordingly. I don't want to be THE LAW any more, which does not sadden me.

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I so much wanted to give that moment, that spark, that glory of creativity away. The importance of little questions with significant consequences. Consciousness of how little we do know, and the glory to be found in that small knowledge. For some unknown reason, I wanted to give that away, and I thought, at one time, when I was THE LAW, I could do that.

Long lost everybody!

My husband's "best friend" called - I'd say it's been 15 years? He found us through my blog, of all things. Damn that anonymous posting though, cuz I think this friend of J-man's is a real sweetie.

There's a message on the counter after Sunday's Second City - call Tom about going camping during the Pleiedes this coming August. Man! That particular trip where Tom and I sat up on a river-bank and watched shooting stars and space-garbage and I learned my constellations - until heaven knows when..a couple of years before husband - so we're thinking 20 some odd years ago? I remember being so impressed - Tom had guessed at the time, and a week later when we got back to civilization, he was within 5 minutes.

And MY best buddy - J-G! He was my Man of Honour when we got married. Phone call from him, too........I'd say that's been a good 8 years ago...

Why even the National Gallery called, but htey wanted more money than I have.

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All I have to do is wake up healthy for ONCE and call these guys back; catch up; organize a camping trip -

Suddenly, I'm homesick for Ottawa.

Looking for signs of spring

....because that means hope. I remember that concept - it seems like so many eons ago.

Getting through routine is the task of the day. Each day. I'm tired almost all the time. Haven't got the energy to be patient with the ridiculousness I find here and there.

The neighbour who says "Hi! Sorry about your Mom. Guess what? My daughter has a JOB!"

"I'm so pleased for her", I murmur.

The kids at school who scream. They just scream. They may be screaming-whining; screaming-angry; screaming-attention; screaming-hurt....but whatever it is, they cannot get through one hour without a scream.

The noise just makes me want to bury myself and cry.

Tired all day, can't sleep at night.

But not to forget the incredible kindness of almost all those around me - a girlfriend who took me for a ride in the woods; the flowers; the cards; the people who said they'd do whatever I needed...

Well, I can't really ask anyone to do my laundry, now can I?

Spring maple

If you ignore other people's babies and pets, they WILL end up on your lap.

Mom's garden

Mom taught me...

Music is good for you
I’ve learned that parents are human, too
I’ll get even with you, you’ll have kids
I don’t do babies
That Jewish lady is the best Christian I know
Make sure your meals aren’t all the same coloured food
Read before you go to sleep
Eat everything your hostess puts in front of you and act like you like it
Don’t wear silver and gold together
Of all the things you wear, the expression on your face is the most important
The small ornaments belong at the top of the tree
If you ignore other people’s pets they will end up on your lap
Children are human beings, not pets
Always say please and thank you
Posture
If you haven’t got anything good to say, then don’t say it
When in doubt, smile
You don’t have to share your birthday presents
If your brother hits you back, you deserved it
University is important
Never threaten a kid with “wait til you father comes home”. Deal with it.
Don’t slurp your soup
A kiss always makes it better
Talk with teenagers
Don’t wear too much makeup
You’ll get over it
Be open minded
Have friends of different ages
How to sew
Left handed knitting: we both gave up
Doing the dishes is a great time to talk
This is a one woman kitchen
Guests should never do the dishes
Leave enough orange juice for somebody else
Always take your shoes off at the door
Only garden if you like it
Be nice to your husband
Only wear real jewels
Learn to drink whiskey neat
Give the benefit of the doubt
Live each day as if it’s your last
Have a firm handshake
A happy child is more important than a clean floor
Wait until the hostess sits down before you eat
The cook gets the burnt stuff
How to colour margarine
Always have a healthy breakfast
Eating a little dirt doesn’t hurt you
It’s okay to eat all your Halloween candy at once
There should be one “big” present for everybody under the Christmas tree
She could walk really really fast - keeping up with her was real work
Very good judge of character
Proud Canadian
It isn’t Christmas unless you give to the Salvation Army
Treat the Queen and the janitor exactly the same
Children shouldn’t wear black
You’ll learn to cook when you’re hungry
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch
Counting the Goats
Idle Days in Summertime
It’s worthwhile to own a sewing machine
You would have gotten along well with your grandfather
There is life after marriage
How to set a table
If someone says “I hate to say this, but…”; ask them why they’re saying it, then.
How Green Was My Valley
Your own money and your own bank accountDon’t chew gum in bed
Don’t sit too close to the television
Don’t talk down to children
Short hair is less work
If it fits well, and you like it, get two (when you can afford it)
Clear the table before dessert
Always afford your own bad habits
Bedsheets should be changed once a week
Never assume your child is perfect or above reproach
Being honest doesn't mean being hurtful
Read anything and everything: think for yourself
Just because you read it somewhere doesn’t make it true
There’s a time and a place for swear words
Choose your battles
Ask yourself if you'll regret it tomorrow
You can choose your own religion after you're 16; blind faith is blind
God doesn't need any intermediaries
Go in the basement when you see bears and phone the company
Don’t get married just for the sake of being married
Whispering in public is rude

It seems like so long ago

I've been staring at a blank piece of paper all morning. Dad wants me to write a eulogy.

(I just noticed that it's not "an eulogy")

I searched the net for "grief" a little bit, and Google's first hits were all

"Buy my book on grieving"

Numb is normal, I read. Maybe I can stay this way, because the "next" steps of insecurity, anger and depression... "and it takes far longer than you want it to."

I am afraid of myself.

"Bewilderment" is a beautiful word, don't you think?

I can't concentrate - maybe that's what's making it so difficult to do anything at all. Dad just called - he can cry and he has people in and around and he's busy.

An email from someone who said: This is my standard note of condolence. I'll send you my self-centred email later.

The nurse who came into our cubicle to see if the bed was free yet.

The health "care" system: She's been badly in need of surgery for more than 6 months; the coroner's report says blood poisoning probably caused the heart attack - I have half a mind to write to my MP because it's the Federal government that killed MY mother. I should have started screaming a long time ago, but that's when people were telling me not to worry.

Well, I'm not worried any more. My head hurts.

Dorothy Owen: October 26, 1920 - April 4 2005

Numb.

When other people died, I never knew what to say and I always thought the words

"my thoughts and prayers are with you" came off so trite. But now, as friends send emails with the same words, I don't find them trite at all. There's really big feelings behind those little words.

This CAN'T be happening to me! When the hospital called - minutes before I was leaving for work - the shaking and fear was palpable - I could taste it. Five minutes later, the chaplain called. She had a weak pulse then, but I thought

"So this is it. This is how they do it."

He has a beautiful voice.

By the time my husband and son came home; I'd gone empty. My son needed us, and I couldn't help thinking how brave he is.

The two hours it took to get there was just blank. I thought if she survived this cardiac arrest, we'd simply be more worried whether or not she survived the operation that she'd been promised for months.

Four SUV's were playing a dangerous game of driving on the 407, and my husband got pissed off - said something about "scaring my wife"

Admitting said she'd been discharged - I said that was rather callous. I knew and didn't know. Then my Dad turned with tears in his eyes, and she was lying there, looking better than she'd had in a long time.

"She didn't make it."

Then blank went to numb. This is it. This is the fear to end all fears. This is my mother. She has no need to be frightened anymore, because she has solved the mystery.

She didn't look as frail. That was hard, watching her get so old, and frail. Last week, I changed her diapers and that hit hard. The circle. Then, as we called the ambulance, all I wanted was for the circle to be a little bigger - to not reach itself yet, not just yet.

A week she was there, a week of fear and terror and an ache where my heart should be of getting better. Not looking so well. A little better today. Maybe somebody will finally do something. A phone call.

In April's 15 centimetres of snow and sluch, we got there Sunday, and she lit up when she saw Jamie, and wagged her finger at him for not keeping on top of his school work. I didn't really know what to say - she kind of noticed that. SHe said she was very frightened. I think I said I was too. Some doctor came for 30 seconds and mentioned an operation tomorrow....so I hopped up and starting hollering after the nurses (and Dad) WHAT OPERATION?

Mom said the doctor was an idiot. She was right.

I said goodbye, backing out of the room, grinning - I think she was too tired - she was drinking apple juice. We told her we loved her, and asked her to try not to worry.

Gave Dad the number of the surgeon.

Yesterday, I talked to Dad and he had the go-ahead on what they'd planned for Mom - an emergency quick-fix.

An hour later, the beautiful voice of the chaplain, and then numbness. And relief, in a way. She looked like she was going to wake up any minute with something clever. So this is what I've been afraid of. Just this. This sense of love and rest and warmth of a live well lived; a life that gave me strength, and humour.

Does God exist? I don't know, but I'd like to believe she's finally met her own Dad, who she ways is the greatest person to walk the face of this earth. I didn't know him, but I had her.

SHouldn't someone call my brother in Italy? Shouldn't I cry? Look! I'm sitting at her feet and laughing.

If there is a God, He gave me strength last week.

My friends and family are giving me strength this week, as I learn to say "was".

My chest hurts.