Holy Mackerel

When I was introduced to the world of blogging only a few short months ago, I was hesitant. Mostly because I didn't know what it was all about. But soon enough, I was hooked, and now I cannot live without it. It's become more a part of me than peanut butter on a spoon. Blogging, and the blogosphere (that means you!) has become very important to me, and for so many reasons. It's my way of venting, of being creative, of getting back into the writing groove, of having some fun, and of expanding my horizons. But maybe most importantly, blogging has allowed me to meet so many wonderful people I would never have otherwise met. The entire world fits in my back pocket now, and although there are things about today's focus on technology and lack of face-to-face contact that I don't particularly like, overall I think it's a great thing. It can also be a very sad thing, because all of a sudden, you get to know people and their intimate lives, and you get to know them on s...

As I entered the hospital to see my mother, a million thoughts ran through my head, and so many feelings -- of loneliness, sadness, anger, defeat. My mother had just died, and I was going to see her after years of voluntary absence. I was going to see her just as much for her as for me, because somewhere in my mind, I do believe the spirits watch us and know. And I wanted my mother to know that, although I had divorced myself from her and her life many years ago, I still cared. Before I was allowed to enter the room where my mother lay, I had to put on a gown, mask and gloves because she was a MRSA carrier. Even in death, her germs were contagious, to be avoided. So, I put the protective clothing on, and entered her room, and there she lay, bathed in the hospital lamplight over her head. She looked like she was sleeping, her mouth open, eyes lightly closed, hands clasped over her chest. She looked so tiny, fragile, mouth open like a tiny baby bird. Tears in the corners of her eyes. As...

I really don't have much to say today, except a huge thank you to all the generous and kind comments regarding my mother's recent passing. They really mean so very much to me. So, thank you. I've spent the past few days in Toronto with my gorgeous baby nephew, and if that's not the best way to forget about one's troubles, I don't know what is. Today's the visitation for my mother. The funeral and burial take place tomorrow morning. My feelings are all over the place. One minute, I'm so very sad. The next, I'm almost fine. I didn't know how I would react when the inevitable happened, and now it has, and I still seem very confused. I'm so sad, but it's not the same sadness I felt when my dad passed away three years ago. This time, it's a sadness for the loss of what might have been between my mother and I, the concrete disappearance, perhaps, of that one last chance that things might be good again between us. Although the chances of t...

My mother died last night. I don't know how to feel or what I feel. I am sad, but not just because of her passing. I am sad for a wasted lifetime of anger, resentment, and hatred. She'd been in and out of the hospital over the past few years and was getting on, but you know, when it actually happens, it's always a shock. It doesn't matter how much time you have to mull things over, knowing this is bound to happen sooner rather than later. It's still unbelievable when it finally does happen. This last time, she had been in the hospital for about two weeks, but had been doing quite well. They were just waiting for a bed to open up for her at a longer-term care facility so that she could further recuperate before returning home. She was in the hospital for multiple spinal fractures. Thank you, osteoporosis. Nothing at all related to her eventual demise. Last Sunday, she was walking the halls in the hospital. Monday, she didn't feel so great. Tuesday came and she b...

Funerals are not funny, in case you were wondering. I've been to two this week. Not funny. Not even mildly amusing. What was mildly amusing was what happened when I went to the first of the visitations. Not that I laughed, mind you, because that would be tres gauche and quite rude, seeing as I was in a funeral home , but I laughed inside. Just a little. The following gives you just a wee bit of insight into what a looney tunes I really am. First of all, trying to find a parking spot was more work than I wanted. I finally found one spot at the far end of the lot, and I quickly wedged myself in-between two other cars, beating out a little old lady who shook her fist at me when I laughed gleefully and gunned it, giving her the finger as I passed by. What? I was first. Then I started wondering why there were so many cars there in the first place. This lady, my favourite old family friend from many many years ago, was popular, friendly, and everyone liked her. She was well known in th...

It's been a hard week. This whole life and death thing just brings me waaay down. Reminds me very much of my own mortality, makes this end we all reach at one time or another very real. And reminds me of my failure to keep in touch with people. A major failure, I might add. This past week, I've had two people pass away who were very close to me. Two women, one young, one old. Both unique, and vital, and wonderful in their own ways. Last Saturday, the wife of one of my best friends passed away. Jeri was only 51 when she finally succumbed to her illness. She didn't have an easy life, having been ill for most of it. And as she progressively got worse, her illness took its toll, not only on her, but on her husband, one of my best friends. Jeri was so fortunate to have a husband like him. He never left her side, and he willingly put his life on hold for hers. He is the husband any woman would be lucky to have. I know that many people, men and women alike, would not have made t...

I am at such a loss for words today, which for those of you who know me, know that is a very rare occurrence indeed. My heart goes out to one of my best friends who is losing his wife. She is losing her fight, and it's been a long fight. This moment has been in the background of all our minds for a few years now, but it's still a huge shock and a massive feeling of loss and disaster just the same. I won't go into details about his situation because it's not my place here. I just wanted to say that this friend of mine is one my dearest and oldest friends. And at this moment, I feel so lost, so powerless, so useless. And I wish I could just make it all good again for him. Because if there's one person in this world who deserves that, it's him.

It was three years ago today that my father passed away. I don't want this to be a sad post. Rather, I want it to be a memory of my dad as I try to remember him every day: witty, a joker, caring, silly, conservative, serious, a very hard worker, a worrier, lover of life, lover of his family. My dad had just turned 89 when he passed away. His was not an easy passage. He struggled with everything his frail body had to keep going one more day. As in the rest of his life, he fought hard to live: through World War II, concentration camps, making a new life for himself in Canada, starting a family late in life, and working hard to ensure his family would never be without. I don't remember my dad resting a lot, except on Sundays. Those were the days when Sundays were still a day of rest. Remember those? Stores were closed, you didn't work, and the day was spent going for a walk, napping, buying ice cream at the corner store, and visiting with friends. I cherish those days of walk...