Monday, September 29, 2014

Dear Mom

The last few weeks I've been trying to figure out how best to deal with your anniversary. I'd really like to forget it ever happened, but how can I possibly do that when you were such a big part of my life? I don’t want to sit around moping either – you’d kick my ass if I did – so I thought I’d write you a letter. I still can't believe it’s been a year already. Where has the time gone?

Dad sold the house in the spring. And it sold so fast! He should have asked for more money! Cleaning out the house was really hard; you were everywhere. The basement wasn't as bad as you thought it was, though. There was definitely some stuff down there but it only took an afternoon or 2 to sort through it. Most of it went to Goodwill or the garbage – why were you hanging onto a broken toaster?  We had a yard sale to help clear out some of the salable stuff, and dad made enough money to treat himself to a new chair. Don’t worry, it’s not one of those God awful puffy looking ones. Apparently dad doesn't like them either. You trained him well, mama  ;)

Dad seems to like his new apartment. It’s certainly the nicest one we looked at, and the rent is perfect. It’s a little on the small side but he’s done a good job of making things fit. And he’s even put his handy skills to work and fixed up a few things already. No duct tape, or none that I’m away of anyway. He’s got some great decorating ideas – he knows what a valance is, mom! He’s still got a few boxes to unpack, but they’re mainly filled with pictures… Hard to look at them… Buddy is adjusting quite well. I thought he’d be barking constantly, but it’s like he knows he’s supposed to be quiet. I think he misses you. Whenever I leave for the weekend he whines and paws at me more than he used to. I think he’s afraid I might not come back…

Attley just turned 1. She’s 1 already, mom! I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that David had a kid! You’d be so proud of David – he’s such a great dad. He has a good mix of your practicality and dads rubber arms. You should see him with her it’s so adorable. I think becoming a father has softened him a bit. Since she has my middle name I know my opinion is biased, but Attley is the cutest baby ever. She’s so beautiful – I wish you could have met her. She looks so much like David, and there’s something about the way she smiles that reminds me of you. She’s been a blessing amid the chaos of the last year. Her Grandpa Don is so sweet with her. Seeing dad with her… I hope dad was that way with me when I was that little. I’m guessing he was since I’m such a Daddy’s Girl.


Aunt Colleen is doing okay. She and I went to the Green Haven benefit on Mother's Day and had a lovely time. It was difficult not being there with you, but I thought it was a nice way to remember you. And Aunt Penny…. If it wasn't for her I don’t know how dad and I would have made it through the last year. Helping to clean out the house, packing and moving dad, listening to me when I just can’t keep it together… She’s been amazing. You definitely have an awesome sister. She was likely cursing you in March, though: your tax return was such a nightmare she had to take it to a pro!

As for me…. Same old, same old boring life. I've been slowly redecorating my apartment. The bathroom is done, but the livingroom still needs a few things. Between Winners and Target I’m getting it done. Wish I had my shopping buddy around, though – it’s hard to make furniture decisions without you, especially when I can’t read a tape measure. Now that things are finding a new normal, I’m trying to spend more time with friends. Still visiting dad on the occasional weekend, too, don’t worry. Work is pretty much the same, but I am working on more interesting projects so I’m pretty happy with that. Health wise I’m doing okay. I had my annual “mole patrol” last week and it went well – time for new shoes! And that other thing that happened a few weeks ago… I heard you nagging at me so I did it, but it doesn't mean I have to like it!

I went out to Alberta to surprise Dave for his birthday this year. We had a lovely visit. I met Dave and family in Edmonton and we drove through the mountains, visiting Banff and Jasper via the Icefields Parkway. You and dad weren’t kidding when you said it was beautiful. I didn't know if Dave would like the driving, but he didn’t want to go home! I even got a great pic of Dave and I; it’s framed and in my livingroom.


We spent a few days in the mountains, and then headed back to his place. He really does live in the middle of nowhere, but it’s nice and quiet so I can see why he likes it. On Dave’s birthday Kenz made a surf and turf dinner, and we even got him an ice cream cake to keep with tradition. He showed me where he worked and tried his best to explain his job but I’m still not sure I get it. Something about pulling pipes out the ground… I spent lots of time snuggling with Attley and Sothea, and before long it was time to leave. It’s so hard saying goodbye to Dave; I cry every time.


There have been a lot of firsts since you left us. Thanksgiving, birthdays, Christmas... Each of them with their own challenges. For Thanksgiving I didn’t know what to do. I’ve always loved Thanksgiving. Not only did you make the most amazing dinner, but it was a lovely time to spend with my family. I wasn’t going to do anything, but at the last minute decided to make a semi-Thanksgiving dinner for dad and I. I kinda felt a kick in the pants and just did it – I  have a feeling that was your foot I felt. No turkey, but I did make ham and scalloped potatoes for the first time… and it was actually really good! For birthdays we did something small. Dad and I exchanged presents and I bought a small cake to share, and on your birthday we went to Theo’s and toasted you over Alfredo Al Forno.  And then there was Christmas… I think dad and I spent the better part of the morning crying, and then headed to Aunt Betty and Uncle Bob's for a lovely dinner. Darren brought champagne and wine, and mixed with my cold medication it was a lovely way to get through a very hard day. It was so hard without you… You brought so much joy and love to the holidays that to have it without you broke my heart. I know you probably hated it, but dad and I couldn’t bring ourselves to even decorate the house. I’m sure in time we will find new traditions, but for now we’re taking it slow.

Overall I think you’d be pretty proud of us. We all have our moments of course, but for the most part I think we’re pretty good. I worry about Dave sometimes. I think he regrets not being here in the end, but I hope he understands why you left when you did. Dad surprises me all the time; he’s doing laundry, cooking, paying bills…  He’s a good man, mom. One of the things I miss the most is being able to talk to you about my day. Dad listens, but you know dad: he’s really watching the baseball game... or the damn wrestling! And I really miss having someone to call when I need cooking advice. But each day gets a little easier. I still have my rough days, but they are farther apart and filled with so many memories.

Well I think that’s it for now. I hope you’re in a better place, at peace and listening to some Eric Clapton or BB King. We think of you often and will love you always. Make sure you’re around on Sundays, okay? Some day I will tackle the traditional Fletcher Sunday Night Dinner, and when I do I hope you’re looking over me to make sure I don’t burn the Yorkshire Pudding.

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Mom

So the last year hasn't exactly been the best one. January started out great – my mom had beaten cancer and her stem cell transplant was going really well. She had energy like she'd never had before, and even went back to work in April. Then as the months passed she started to get worse. She got sick in May, and the more days that passed I saw her become an entirely different woman right in front of my eyes. In September I (hesitantly) went on a much needed vacation, and came back to something so shocking I just can't put it into words. My mom passed away a few weeks later from liver failure brought on by her stem cell transplant… and my whole world was thrown upside down. She would have been 67 this Friday.

We had no idea mom was as sick as she was. I don't know if she was keeping things from us or she didn't know herself, so I struggle a lot with anger. Why didn't the docs do something sooner? Why didn't mom say anything?  Why, why, why…  I had gone with her to her last appointment, which was less than a week before she passed, and the doctors didn't indicate that things were bad. The words were something like "you're not at a critical point yet." We knew her liver was wonky – she was jaundiced and had been for months so it was very clear something wasn't right. But no one said she was in liver failure. No one took a second look at the ultrasound she'd had just a few days earlier. No one did anything. Just the typical "wait and see" treatment plan the docs had been prescribing for months. And this was at the best cancer hospital in the country! They're supposed to be on top of all this stuff!

When she was diagnosed in the summer of 2012 I went through all the "what if she dies?" thoughts – you hear a cancer diagnosis and your mind just kinda goes there. My mom and I even had a chat about what to do if she died: sell the house, sell the car, and dad lives with me.  But as much as I thought I was prepared, you never really are. Nothing can prepare you for seeing your mother in a hospital bed … that way. As horrible as it is, I even prayed that she'd be released from her pain, because seeing her that way was not what she wanted. When we got the call I drove dad and I to the hospital, keeping calm as to not upset my dad even further. We didn't make it in time to say goodbye, but she went peacefully and her sister was with her 'til the end. I had a moment with mom before we left the hospital. I needed her to know that we loved her. That she was an amazing mother and that she raised my brother and I to be the best we could be, which is why I knew we'd be okay. Gave her lots of kisses and stroked her hair … until my dad had to come and pull me away. Leaving her… one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

Now I'm suddenly responsible for things my mom used to be in charge of: making sure my dads house bills are paid, that dad's eating right and taking his medications, that Buddy gets to the vet and doesn't eat things he's not supposed to… Plus clearing up all the estate stuff you need to deal with after someone passes – wow, it's a ton of work! Next on the list is preparing the house for sale. Do we re-paint and re-carpet, or sell it as-is? So much to consider...

Family photo from WAY back. I love this pic...

Mom with Buddy when he was a few weeks old

Mom and Dad in Twillingate, NL

Mom and I at a lighthouse in St Anthony, NL.
The BEST seafood chowder we ever had...

Mom and I partying it up at my brother's bon voyage party.
Drinks anyone?

One of the things I still need to learn is to let things go and not sweat the small stuff. Mom was good at that. She was also really good at putting you in your place and standing up for herself, which is something I may struggle with forever… but I'm working on it, mama. Death puts a lot of things in perspective, and tends to highlight the people that love you and, unfortunately, those that don't. If I've learned ANYTHING in the last year it's been that we all deserve goodness in our lives. That we should surround ourselves with the people we care about, and the people who care about us. Don't waste your time on things that don't matter. I'm still trying to practice what I preach, but I'm getting better.

My mother was one of the strongest people I have ever known, and I didn't realize she'd passed on that trait until all of this happened. I still struggle with a lot of things – family birthdays and holidays so far have really sucked, and redecorating my apartment without her is not as fun – but when I struggle I just talk to her. Ask her to give me a sign, or slap some sense into me. I wish she was here right now to do some slapping, cuz I could use a little slap back into reality today. Every day gets a little easier, but I still miss her like crazy. It's weird to call my dad and not ask to talk to mom, or having takeout on Sunday instead of roast beef dinner, or going on a shopping spree and not having someone to talk to about all the deals I got… It's weird, but hopefully it'll seem more normal over time. Or I'll find new traditions or new people to share with.


To all those who have been there over the last year: thank you. Thank you for covering my ass at work. Thank you for driving me to Toronto. Thank you for bringing over food and cards and gifts and love. Thank you for holding my hand and drying my tears. Just thank you. I would not be this strong without you either.

So I'll end with my New Years Eve toast.
To all those who had a crappy 2013, here's to us. May 2014 bring us lots of love and happiness … and maybe a little crazy thrown in for good measure.
Miss you so much, mom, and I'll love you always. Now I'm going to take your advice and find a good bottle of wine, and hopefully a hot man to share it with.