I was at the hospital tonight. To see my ma. My ma who would make me double over in laughter because she said she had no FYI when she meant WiFi and who once erroneously texted me that she had fallen out of the fridge (long story). The one who fell off the couch while in a sitting position once after I gave her not two, not three, but ONE martini, and then pronounced it better than pot brownies.
The one who while in university decided with a few friends that painting a crosswalk across Spadina was a great idea. Ironically, the first car to test out this handmade crosswalk was a police cruiser. Needless to say that didn't go well.
The one who helped me make a fake id when I was 18 because I was born in December and all my friends were already of drinking age and I wanted to be with them.
The one I've argued with, rolled my eyes at, became frustrated with, have watched thousands of episodes of Bones and NCIS with. The one who's told me I need to iron my clothes, brush my hair, and asked me if I was really "going to work in that".
The one who told me I was special, that she didn't know what she would do without me. The one who told me she loved me over and over again when I was in my bad place. The one I cried over, cried for, called my sister about, laughed with, laughed at, joked about, loved.
Luckily I still get some good moments with her.
But I miss my mother. I miss her so much.
Sunday, May 21, 2017
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
Life
Walking around the hospital with my mother....
Me: Do you like these paintings in the hall?
Her: I do. But you know my painting teacher told me to never paint outside the canvas. He said to some how drag the colour back in. See how this one didn't?
Me: I never noticed. But now I do!
Her: I like these paintings. When I get home, I'll show you the ones in the basement. They weren't as good as these, but they were good. I know I have them in the basement somewhere.
* she was a fantastic drawer. But we haven't lived in the home with the basement for years. I am so sad for my momma.
Me: Do you like these paintings in the hall?
Her: I do. But you know my painting teacher told me to never paint outside the canvas. He said to some how drag the colour back in. See how this one didn't?
Me: I never noticed. But now I do!
Her: I like these paintings. When I get home, I'll show you the ones in the basement. They weren't as good as these, but they were good. I know I have them in the basement somewhere.
* she was a fantastic drawer. But we haven't lived in the home with the basement for years. I am so sad for my momma.
Sunday, April 16, 2017
Life
So, loads is happening lately, mostly to do with my mom. She's been in hospital for 5 weeks. Today, she grabbed me by my shirt while the nurse was adjusting her painful, raw-like legs, which are due to her heart not pumping properly and causing fluid to literally seep out of her legs, sometimes leaving puddles (yes, this is a run-on sentence), and anyhow, she wrapped her hands around my shirt, pulled me close to her face and whispered:
"Just kill me."
We're ok. My brother is here and has taken over a ton of the hospital visits. Today I actually had a nap and did laundry. 5 loads of laundry that have been woefully neglected for the past week and a bit. I did another load of laundry for my Momma's clothes. Her legs have been leaking so much that everything soaks through fairly quickly and needs to be washed.
5 weeks ago my mom was walking around the house - albeit not that fast - but walking and going to the bathroom by herself. She hadn't been eating and had trouble doing laundry, but could sit on the couch and have a conversation while folding the clean laundry I gave her. Now she needs help to even stand up. Today she is having a bit of an episode and thought she was at the grocery store buying a ticket and taking my brother to a game.
I think I may be in denial here. I've cried out of frustration. I've cried in anger. Today I cried a bit when she told me to just kill her. But, I know the tears are coming. Hell, they're starting to pool a bit just writing this.
My mother deserves better than what is happening. She's been through enough in her life. I'm finding it hard to reconcile why this, after everything, is happening to her. Just let her go, in peace.
Or, alternatively, give her what she asked for in the first place: a chance to live alert in an expensive retirement home that has male strippers.
"Just kill me."
We're ok. My brother is here and has taken over a ton of the hospital visits. Today I actually had a nap and did laundry. 5 loads of laundry that have been woefully neglected for the past week and a bit. I did another load of laundry for my Momma's clothes. Her legs have been leaking so much that everything soaks through fairly quickly and needs to be washed.
5 weeks ago my mom was walking around the house - albeit not that fast - but walking and going to the bathroom by herself. She hadn't been eating and had trouble doing laundry, but could sit on the couch and have a conversation while folding the clean laundry I gave her. Now she needs help to even stand up. Today she is having a bit of an episode and thought she was at the grocery store buying a ticket and taking my brother to a game.
I think I may be in denial here. I've cried out of frustration. I've cried in anger. Today I cried a bit when she told me to just kill her. But, I know the tears are coming. Hell, they're starting to pool a bit just writing this.
My mother deserves better than what is happening. She's been through enough in her life. I'm finding it hard to reconcile why this, after everything, is happening to her. Just let her go, in peace.
Or, alternatively, give her what she asked for in the first place: a chance to live alert in an expensive retirement home that has male strippers.
Wednesday, January 25, 2017
I'm WALKIN'!
So I've started walking home from work as much as I can, and the more I do, the more I realize that there is so much you can learn about people you've never met in a city that has so many people it resembles the chaotic buzzing of an ant colony.
So here's a tangent -> and yes, we're doing tangents because it's my blog and I'll tangent if I want to. Whenever I talk about walking, I always think of a story my sister told me about the time she was walking across the street in London. At least I think it was London. It's my tangent...I can make a mistake if I want to.
Anyhow, she was walking across the street, and there was this local street guy who everyone knew, and she's walking, and he looks up at her and yells loud as anything: "Look at her! SHE is WALKIN'!"
So, I am WALKIN' home (remember, I'm in the big city for a bit), and this girl is walking just behind me on her cell phone. Which is another thing about this city. OH MY GOD, people love their devices. Get on the transit, people are all hunched over on phones. People walking, on devices (danger danger by the way...I've witnessed a bunch of near near car misses), buying things, they're on devices. Get on the elevator - devices; driving...devices. Devices, devices, devices.
And the odd time I've had to interrupt these electronically-absorbed people, and they actually get annoyed! I've had to ask for directions a few times (I know...who, me? Get lost? Quelle girl rande surprise!) and it's like I've interrupted them taking the most satisfying poop they've ever had. Part surprise, part annoyance, all impatience.
Anyhow, so I'm WALKIN', and this girl is behind me, talking on her cell phone, and for SIX blocks I listen to this very annoyed person tell her friend about how she was dating these two guys she met online trying to figure out which one she liked better, and how one was more in friend zone, and how Mr Friend Zone turned out to be a friend of Mr Sexy Back. Well, Mr Friend Zone ended up telling Mr Sexy Back that she and he had hooked up, which she completely denied. Still, Mr Sexy Back didn't like the fact that she was double dipping, and cancelled their sleep over that weekend, and boy, is she pissed! And it's not HER fault, because nothing happened with Mr Friend Zone, and why is she getting punished for something that never happened? (I totally believe she tapped both of them.)
I tried to keep up with this chick for as long as possible, because the conversation was incredibly amusing. Which brings me to tangent #2....I obviously don't walk as fast as people here. I blame it on the fact that my mother smoked while she was pregnant with me, and my leg length paid for it.
The other amazing conversation I overheard was a man on the phone with his wife? Lover? Anyhow, he was very well put together. And the reason he was so put together was the reason for his phone call.
"Hi Baby, how was your day? I miss you too. I love you so much. I'm just going for my wax. Haha! You know I don't enjoy them being down there! (I kid you not, HE SAID THAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET!). Turns out they have a spot for a facial, so I took it. I'll be home late. Oh my God! You're right across the street!"
Cue two people meeting on a street corner who obviously hadn't seen each other since that morning, mix in a little Basic Instinct, and you come out with two people seriously making out in public.
Oh, and on top of that, everyone is walking around in Canada Goose jackets. Canada Goose is made for serious, serious winter weather. It hasn't been below -8 since I've been here. Today it's 4 degrees. I haven't worn socks in almost 4 weeks.
So here's a tangent -> and yes, we're doing tangents because it's my blog and I'll tangent if I want to. Whenever I talk about walking, I always think of a story my sister told me about the time she was walking across the street in London. At least I think it was London. It's my tangent...I can make a mistake if I want to.
Anyhow, she was walking across the street, and there was this local street guy who everyone knew, and she's walking, and he looks up at her and yells loud as anything: "Look at her! SHE is WALKIN'!"
So, I am WALKIN' home (remember, I'm in the big city for a bit), and this girl is walking just behind me on her cell phone. Which is another thing about this city. OH MY GOD, people love their devices. Get on the transit, people are all hunched over on phones. People walking, on devices (danger danger by the way...I've witnessed a bunch of near near car misses), buying things, they're on devices. Get on the elevator - devices; driving...devices. Devices, devices, devices.
And the odd time I've had to interrupt these electronically-absorbed people, and they actually get annoyed! I've had to ask for directions a few times (I know...who, me? Get lost? Quelle girl rande surprise!) and it's like I've interrupted them taking the most satisfying poop they've ever had. Part surprise, part annoyance, all impatience.
Anyhow, so I'm WALKIN', and this girl is behind me, talking on her cell phone, and for SIX blocks I listen to this very annoyed person tell her friend about how she was dating these two guys she met online trying to figure out which one she liked better, and how one was more in friend zone, and how Mr Friend Zone turned out to be a friend of Mr Sexy Back. Well, Mr Friend Zone ended up telling Mr Sexy Back that she and he had hooked up, which she completely denied. Still, Mr Sexy Back didn't like the fact that she was double dipping, and cancelled their sleep over that weekend, and boy, is she pissed! And it's not HER fault, because nothing happened with Mr Friend Zone, and why is she getting punished for something that never happened? (I totally believe she tapped both of them.)
I tried to keep up with this chick for as long as possible, because the conversation was incredibly amusing. Which brings me to tangent #2....I obviously don't walk as fast as people here. I blame it on the fact that my mother smoked while she was pregnant with me, and my leg length paid for it.
The other amazing conversation I overheard was a man on the phone with his wife? Lover? Anyhow, he was very well put together. And the reason he was so put together was the reason for his phone call.
"Hi Baby, how was your day? I miss you too. I love you so much. I'm just going for my wax. Haha! You know I don't enjoy them being down there! (I kid you not, HE SAID THAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET!). Turns out they have a spot for a facial, so I took it. I'll be home late. Oh my God! You're right across the street!"
Cue two people meeting on a street corner who obviously hadn't seen each other since that morning, mix in a little Basic Instinct, and you come out with two people seriously making out in public.
Oh, and on top of that, everyone is walking around in Canada Goose jackets. Canada Goose is made for serious, serious winter weather. It hasn't been below -8 since I've been here. Today it's 4 degrees. I haven't worn socks in almost 4 weeks.
Monday, January 16, 2017
My Girl
I first met the dog that would become my crazy-ass companion, my reason for getting up, the bain of my existence, the love of my f*cking life, when my dearly departed sister and my pesky-brother-in-law called me and told me that they saw a 'special dog of the week' ad from the local shelter. It wasn't the local humane society, but another another shelter run by the city. Being of not-so-sound mind, and thinking I needed something to keep me accountable, I said 'come get me and let's go look'.
She wasn't there when we got there. She was out for a walk with a shelter worker. So I looked at a parade of needy dogs that I really couldn't take because I had stairs, and although I would have taken all of them in a heartbeat most of them couldn't have managed stairs. So, we left.
And then, as fate would have it, there she was. Hanging out at the side of the building with the worker, who was having a smoke break. I took her for a walk. Asked her if she wanted to come home with me, and that was that.
I should probably tell you that she tried to jump out the window of the car a few times on the way home. She was as messed up as I was at the time.
So, we get home. She runs up the stairs, I let her into my apartment, she jumps up on the couch and starts barking. I remember standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at my sister with a dazed look on my face, to which she laughed and said 'good luck!' And then she left me with this dog. I wanted a non-shedding, non-barking dog. I left with a walking carpet that never shut up.
This dog became my life. She followed me from the big city to the little city; from breakdowns to highs and everything in between; to living with my ma to living in our own place; to settling in to a routine; to all the ups and downs that life brings. She never, ever once shunned me, no matter what I did (except that one time we got into the fight about trying to give her a pill). She followed me everywhere, including down children's slides. She wagged her tail when I got mad at her, which really annoyed me but always made me smile. She had a natural smile on her face, which made me laugh. In the mornings, she had the uncanny ability to wake me up just by staring at me, and when I finally opened my eyes to say 'there's my girl!', she'd lay on top of me for an epic cuddle session.
She climbed roofs and made peace with the local groundhog. She loved swimming and would lie in any size of puddle she saw. She also was addicted to snow, lying there for hours in it to cool her belly and soothe her joints. I remember when I was still running in the big city, our route went past an arena. I had her off leash at the time, and she would always head to the pile of snow and ice left by the zamboni. I'd stop and let her have her little rest before carrying on.
In her later years, when I had to get stairs beside the bed because she couldn't jump, and when she could no longer get up and meet the people in the neighbourhood, she found a place in the front yard, where she would bark hello to people passing by (everyone in the neighbourhood knew her and would say hello back), scare the people that were selling stuff we didn't need, and generally just be happy wagging her tail for no reason other than she was loved, fed, warm and able to bark. She was the happiest dog ever.
The tumour started in August, so small that the vet thought it was some sort of calcification. Within a month it had grown to the size of a plum, then a tennis ball, a baseball, and finally to the size we couldn't describe. And by then it was too late. The sh*t of it all was that the tumour itself didn't bother her, it was everything else that went with it.
I was warned it could burst, and if it did, it would 'like Christmas'; a lot of blood, everywhere, and if it burst she would need to be euthanized right away . We went over the options. She was 13; removing it wasn't a consideration because of her age, and because they found numerous other tumours growing there was a good chance we'd be right back to this situation .
She made the decision for me she. I was out with a friend of mine for brunch on Christmas Eve. Ironically enough, I had just finished telling her about my girl, when I got a call from from my mom saying simply 'you need to come right now, Roxy needs you.'
The tumour had partially burst. There was blood all over the snow where she has been laying. It looked like someone had been murdered, and the thing hadn't even burst completely. What made it worse was that when I got there, she was laying in the snow, front paws crossed, tail wagging, happy as ever to see her momma. I picked her up and carried her into the house, where I laid with her. The decision had been made, and I wasn't ready.
She died Christmas Eve, after the very compassionate and caring vet and technician made a special trip in to see this through. To say I was upset is an understatement. I openly sobbed the entire time, watching the life leave my loving companion who had seen me through so much. I loved this dog, deeply. And in that moment, I felt I hadn't deserved her. She had never, ever let me down. Drove me nuts? Yes. But never let me down. And I felt I was letting her down.
I miss that pure bred mutt every day. She talked too much, ate too much and drank too much, just like her momma. The house is quiet when I get home. It's missing something. My Mom and her dog are mourning as much as I am. But, she'll always be around. I'll be finding clumps of her hair for a long time, I hope.
Roxy, you are forever loved. Thank you for giving me some of the best years of my life. I'll miss you forever. Love, your momma. Xxoo
She wasn't there when we got there. She was out for a walk with a shelter worker. So I looked at a parade of needy dogs that I really couldn't take because I had stairs, and although I would have taken all of them in a heartbeat most of them couldn't have managed stairs. So, we left.
And then, as fate would have it, there she was. Hanging out at the side of the building with the worker, who was having a smoke break. I took her for a walk. Asked her if she wanted to come home with me, and that was that.
I should probably tell you that she tried to jump out the window of the car a few times on the way home. She was as messed up as I was at the time.
So, we get home. She runs up the stairs, I let her into my apartment, she jumps up on the couch and starts barking. I remember standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at my sister with a dazed look on my face, to which she laughed and said 'good luck!' And then she left me with this dog. I wanted a non-shedding, non-barking dog. I left with a walking carpet that never shut up.
This dog became my life. She followed me from the big city to the little city; from breakdowns to highs and everything in between; to living with my ma to living in our own place; to settling in to a routine; to all the ups and downs that life brings. She never, ever once shunned me, no matter what I did (except that one time we got into the fight about trying to give her a pill). She followed me everywhere, including down children's slides. She wagged her tail when I got mad at her, which really annoyed me but always made me smile. She had a natural smile on her face, which made me laugh. In the mornings, she had the uncanny ability to wake me up just by staring at me, and when I finally opened my eyes to say 'there's my girl!', she'd lay on top of me for an epic cuddle session.
She climbed roofs and made peace with the local groundhog. She loved swimming and would lie in any size of puddle she saw. She also was addicted to snow, lying there for hours in it to cool her belly and soothe her joints. I remember when I was still running in the big city, our route went past an arena. I had her off leash at the time, and she would always head to the pile of snow and ice left by the zamboni. I'd stop and let her have her little rest before carrying on.
In her later years, when I had to get stairs beside the bed because she couldn't jump, and when she could no longer get up and meet the people in the neighbourhood, she found a place in the front yard, where she would bark hello to people passing by (everyone in the neighbourhood knew her and would say hello back), scare the people that were selling stuff we didn't need, and generally just be happy wagging her tail for no reason other than she was loved, fed, warm and able to bark. She was the happiest dog ever.
The tumour started in August, so small that the vet thought it was some sort of calcification. Within a month it had grown to the size of a plum, then a tennis ball, a baseball, and finally to the size we couldn't describe. And by then it was too late. The sh*t of it all was that the tumour itself didn't bother her, it was everything else that went with it.
I was warned it could burst, and if it did, it would 'like Christmas'; a lot of blood, everywhere, and if it burst she would need to be euthanized right away . We went over the options. She was 13; removing it wasn't a consideration because of her age, and because they found numerous other tumours growing there was a good chance we'd be right back to this situation .
She made the decision for me she. I was out with a friend of mine for brunch on Christmas Eve. Ironically enough, I had just finished telling her about my girl, when I got a call from from my mom saying simply 'you need to come right now, Roxy needs you.'
The tumour had partially burst. There was blood all over the snow where she has been laying. It looked like someone had been murdered, and the thing hadn't even burst completely. What made it worse was that when I got there, she was laying in the snow, front paws crossed, tail wagging, happy as ever to see her momma. I picked her up and carried her into the house, where I laid with her. The decision had been made, and I wasn't ready.
She died Christmas Eve, after the very compassionate and caring vet and technician made a special trip in to see this through. To say I was upset is an understatement. I openly sobbed the entire time, watching the life leave my loving companion who had seen me through so much. I loved this dog, deeply. And in that moment, I felt I hadn't deserved her. She had never, ever let me down. Drove me nuts? Yes. But never let me down. And I felt I was letting her down.
I miss that pure bred mutt every day. She talked too much, ate too much and drank too much, just like her momma. The house is quiet when I get home. It's missing something. My Mom and her dog are mourning as much as I am. But, she'll always be around. I'll be finding clumps of her hair for a long time, I hope.
Roxy, you are forever loved. Thank you for giving me some of the best years of my life. I'll miss you forever. Love, your momma. Xxoo
Sunday, January 15, 2017
My Life
...is good! I know, I know - pick yourself up off the ground. I just spent a lovely, amazing weekend with family, and even better, won the card game we were playing. Which, you know, was worth the entire trip. Even though I was called "supple and ample" (ahem). I'm taking it as a compliment.
We drank a total of seven bottles of wine. Two large, three small. The fact that I even woke up this morning is a miracle. There were 6 of us there though, so really, that's less than a bottle each. Or wait...is that more than a bottle each? I've never been good at math.
It's funny how quickly we can fall back into old habits, isn't it? I get here, and right away I'm a big girl in a big city. Transit, manoeuvring through the masses of people between stations and feeling like a cow going through shutes on their way to slaughter. Seriously, you get off the streetcar, and then a hundred or so people are trying to make it through this sort of narrow passage, most of them looking down at the ground as we move slowly towards the death that is our job. I almost felt like mooing.
The closet I am living in is working out stupendously, but ask me again in a week. Thank goodness for Netflix, or else (heaven forbid) I'd be alone with my own thoughts. And those of you with a few things going on in your brain, you know it is never good to be alone with your own thoughts, because they belong to 3 different people! And who's right? And then you spend half the night writing lists about why what so-and-so said on Thursday wasn't a dig, it was just a passing comment, but the other 2 people in your head are arguing the complete opposite point. Honestly. It's exhausting.
Anyhow, all in all I am enjoying myself. It's been nice to have some alone time (even with all of the people in my head). I know. I'm so boring when I'm sane....
And I still have to talk about my sweet girl Rory, but not now.
We drank a total of seven bottles of wine. Two large, three small. The fact that I even woke up this morning is a miracle. There were 6 of us there though, so really, that's less than a bottle each. Or wait...is that more than a bottle each? I've never been good at math.
It's funny how quickly we can fall back into old habits, isn't it? I get here, and right away I'm a big girl in a big city. Transit, manoeuvring through the masses of people between stations and feeling like a cow going through shutes on their way to slaughter. Seriously, you get off the streetcar, and then a hundred or so people are trying to make it through this sort of narrow passage, most of them looking down at the ground as we move slowly towards the death that is our job. I almost felt like mooing.
The closet I am living in is working out stupendously, but ask me again in a week. Thank goodness for Netflix, or else (heaven forbid) I'd be alone with my own thoughts. And those of you with a few things going on in your brain, you know it is never good to be alone with your own thoughts, because they belong to 3 different people! And who's right? And then you spend half the night writing lists about why what so-and-so said on Thursday wasn't a dig, it was just a passing comment, but the other 2 people in your head are arguing the complete opposite point. Honestly. It's exhausting.
Anyhow, all in all I am enjoying myself. It's been nice to have some alone time (even with all of the people in my head). I know. I'm so boring when I'm sane....
And I still have to talk about my sweet girl Rory, but not now.
Sunday, January 8, 2017
I Am Alone, With Chinese Food...
...no , I'm not, actually. That's a line from a movie, and a hundred dollars to those who can name the movie that's quoted from.
Ok, that's a joke. I don't have a hundred dollars for the millions of people who read this blog.
It's just past midnight. It's not New Year. And for some reason I'm up. I think it's because I was at a celebration of my peskiest-brother-in law's service for his momma. She was a doll. But that, in addition to last year, has made me realize a few things.
First, I have officially lived longer than than my sister. I turned 44 this year. She died when she was 43. This made me a bit woozy this year, I won't deny it. But then it happened. And I didn't think about it. And now I am. And it makes me more aware of LIFE. Life that I'm here. I'm here.
Second, my momma hasn't been well. And everyone complains about their momma. But....she's my momma. I love this woman. She's been through so much, and yes, maybe we live too close, but she's my mother. And this year I've realized how close I've come close to losing her. And then my peskiest-brother-in-law's momma passed away. And she's the same age as my momma.
My poor peskiest-brother-in-law. He is treading water. And he is hurting. And I know. I know. It sucks. It sucks SO hard. What else can you say?
So, here's the lesson: HOLY SHIT! ENJOY TODAY. And, be yourself. And know what? Just own what you are, what you want, what you do, and who you are. And your body. Seriously. Why spend your life worrying about that when you can own it? What a f* king waste.
Ok, that's a joke. I don't have a hundred dollars for the millions of people who read this blog.
It's just past midnight. It's not New Year. And for some reason I'm up. I think it's because I was at a celebration of my peskiest-brother-in law's service for his momma. She was a doll. But that, in addition to last year, has made me realize a few things.
First, I have officially lived longer than than my sister. I turned 44 this year. She died when she was 43. This made me a bit woozy this year, I won't deny it. But then it happened. And I didn't think about it. And now I am. And it makes me more aware of LIFE. Life that I'm here. I'm here.
Second, my momma hasn't been well. And everyone complains about their momma. But....she's my momma. I love this woman. She's been through so much, and yes, maybe we live too close, but she's my mother. And this year I've realized how close I've come close to losing her. And then my peskiest-brother-in-law's momma passed away. And she's the same age as my momma.
My poor peskiest-brother-in-law. He is treading water. And he is hurting. And I know. I know. It sucks. It sucks SO hard. What else can you say?
So, here's the lesson: HOLY SHIT! ENJOY TODAY. And, be yourself. And know what? Just own what you are, what you want, what you do, and who you are. And your body. Seriously. Why spend your life worrying about that when you can own it? What a f* king waste.
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