Today I was badgered and heckled by a terrible mood that would not let up. I'm tired of sleeping and walking up feeling exhausted. I'm tired of having no appetite. I'm tired of the crazy cat I'm fostering who won't stop farting (that's another blog entry.)
By any objective standard, being really sick over holidays of any kind just sucks. And I was really REALLY looking forward to this break for a long time. Two years ago Indigo died. Last year I spent most of December recovering from emergency gallbladder surgery. This year, I am employed full time and had some vacation to carry over into the New Year. "Great," I thought, "this will be a really good break."
Instead, on December 23rd I started to cough and by Saturday morning, had a fever of 101 degrees. And that was that. I've been home ever since and will finally get to see my parents on Wednesday for an overdue Christmas celebration. So far, I've spent this entire holiday, sick, worn out and alone.
I was finally able to get out today for a couple of hours and finish my Christmas shopping. Two hours was more than enough. Two hours felt like six. But still, it was nice to return to the land of living. Given how easily I can get into a bad funk and stay there, I decided to focus my thoughts on those things that I was grateful for despite my current circumstances.
I like doing this because it is a great way for me to refocus my thoughts and not dwell on the negative. I walk an emotional tightrope, one in which I try to acknowledge and give voice to my emotions, whatever they may be. I think this is good and healthy. Unrelenting positivism is as bad as negativity. It's important to understand and acknowledge everything you're feeling.Feelings aren't good or bad, they just are. But like a good buffet, it's important not to stay in one place too long. You just end up overstuffed and unhappy.
So in no particular order, here are the things I decided I was grateful for today:
I get to see my parents on Wednesday to celebrate a belated Christmas. Some people love their parents very much and don't have them in their lives anymore. Some people spend every Christmas alone and have nobody to care for or celebrate with them.
I'm employed full time. I really felt for the contractors at my office this year because I've been there, heading into a Christmas break where the office is closed and I'll have no money coming in or the certainty of a contract renewal in the New Year. Not fun. This year I have a job, however imperfect, and for the most part can pay my bills.
I've been sick, but I've also been on vacation. This means that I've been able to get as much rest as I want without feeling under pressure to get back to the office asap. I've been able to focus on just getting well.
I was able to get caught up on some chores and despite being sick my house hasn't gone to hell in a hand basket. Disorder stresses me out so I've been grateful to be able to keep on top of things.
I've watched a lot of great television. So far, I've discovered some series I've really enjoyed and have been able to watch a ton of TV to pass the time being sick. That's no small thing when you're too sick to peruse social media or read.
Quiet. I've really had a lot of peace and quiet the last while. I really needed to experience this so I could recharge. My job is noisy and bustling and pulls me in a bunch of different directions all day long. It's been marvelous to just not have to do or say anything, to just be still.
This blog entry. I honestly didn't think I'd get this done today, but proved myself wrong.
Showing posts with label Like Diamonds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Like Diamonds. Show all posts
Monday, January 02, 2017
Thursday, October 01, 2015
Mood Indigo
"We are given each other in trust. I think people are much too wonderful to be alive briefly and gone." ~ Marilynne Robinson
I don't know how to say this, except to say it.
Indigo is dead.
She passed away just before Christmas 2014 and I've been trying to kindle any desire to write ever since.
Because I cannot write something, anything here, without first writing about Indigo. And that prospect has simply remained too painful. She is so much a part of the world around me, but no longer of it. I've only now gotten to the point where I can reconcile it's happened, that she is gone.
I remember getting the call from Ragdoll, a recounting of a headline seen in the news, my brain splintering, a wrung out, heartsick Christmas vacation.
She has occupied my thoughts so often in the past months. I see something beautiful - a slant of light, a bumble bee rummaging in a flower, a mother unhurriedly walking hand in hand with her toddler, and I think about how much Indigo would have appreciated these moments.
That was the great gift she gave me, reminding me to appreciate the simple moments of pleasure and beauty that are always all around us. It was something for which she had a sixth sense of sorts, the ability to find in life's every day mundaneness, the special, the overlooked, the essential. She captured it in her photography, spoke of it in her poetry, talked to me about it over coffee.
And what is even more astonishing to me, is that as MS ravaged her body and carved out her life, it's as if her ability to appreciate beauty was amplified. She still noticed it all, still made the effort to keep in touch, to wish me well, to be my friend, to speak of these things.
In August, I was very privileged to attend Indigo's memorial service, what her family called a Celebration of Life. It was wonderful to meet Indigo's relatives, see her husband again, to talk about her with her mother. I thought that is what would buckle me, seeing the loss contended with, the swath it had cut in people's lives. But what really drove an icepick in my heart were the pictures of Indigo that were showing in endless slideshows.
They were pictures taken before her MS began to progress. It was the vibrant and driven Indigo I remember meeting and becoming friends with, the Indigo that could dance, make plans for summer and could come to friends' houses for monthly cheesy movie nights. I'd never lost that Indigo, even as MS ravaged her body, she was still herself despite it all. We just found different ways to be together. We would meet for coffee and good food, chat as her hand shakily raised her favourite chocolate tarte for a bite. Eventually we would chat less as the MS began to affect her speech. We moved on to manicure dates when eating and drinking became impossible.
That was Indigo, still enjoying life, still participating in it. But it wasn't until I saw the pictures at her Celebration, that I began to understand how much she had lost and how hard she had to fight to keep some parts of herself and her life as she wished them to be.
My God, she was beautiful and so full of light. And I realized in seeing those pictures how much I missed her and always would.
I'm so grateful she was my friend. I'm even more grateful that despite all she went through, she made sure I knew it.
I don't know how to say this, except to say it.
Indigo is dead.
She passed away just before Christmas 2014 and I've been trying to kindle any desire to write ever since.
Because I cannot write something, anything here, without first writing about Indigo. And that prospect has simply remained too painful. She is so much a part of the world around me, but no longer of it. I've only now gotten to the point where I can reconcile it's happened, that she is gone.
I remember getting the call from Ragdoll, a recounting of a headline seen in the news, my brain splintering, a wrung out, heartsick Christmas vacation.
She has occupied my thoughts so often in the past months. I see something beautiful - a slant of light, a bumble bee rummaging in a flower, a mother unhurriedly walking hand in hand with her toddler, and I think about how much Indigo would have appreciated these moments.
That was the great gift she gave me, reminding me to appreciate the simple moments of pleasure and beauty that are always all around us. It was something for which she had a sixth sense of sorts, the ability to find in life's every day mundaneness, the special, the overlooked, the essential. She captured it in her photography, spoke of it in her poetry, talked to me about it over coffee.
And what is even more astonishing to me, is that as MS ravaged her body and carved out her life, it's as if her ability to appreciate beauty was amplified. She still noticed it all, still made the effort to keep in touch, to wish me well, to be my friend, to speak of these things.
In August, I was very privileged to attend Indigo's memorial service, what her family called a Celebration of Life. It was wonderful to meet Indigo's relatives, see her husband again, to talk about her with her mother. I thought that is what would buckle me, seeing the loss contended with, the swath it had cut in people's lives. But what really drove an icepick in my heart were the pictures of Indigo that were showing in endless slideshows.
They were pictures taken before her MS began to progress. It was the vibrant and driven Indigo I remember meeting and becoming friends with, the Indigo that could dance, make plans for summer and could come to friends' houses for monthly cheesy movie nights. I'd never lost that Indigo, even as MS ravaged her body, she was still herself despite it all. We just found different ways to be together. We would meet for coffee and good food, chat as her hand shakily raised her favourite chocolate tarte for a bite. Eventually we would chat less as the MS began to affect her speech. We moved on to manicure dates when eating and drinking became impossible.
That was Indigo, still enjoying life, still participating in it. But it wasn't until I saw the pictures at her Celebration, that I began to understand how much she had lost and how hard she had to fight to keep some parts of herself and her life as she wished them to be.
My God, she was beautiful and so full of light. And I realized in seeing those pictures how much I missed her and always would.
I'm so grateful she was my friend. I'm even more grateful that despite all she went through, she made sure I knew it.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Love Letter
My darling, I want to let you know how much I love you. There are a billion reasons why. Here are just some of them.
You healed my heart, and continue to do so.
You convinced me and then proved, that loving someone again was a risk worth taking.
Even the most skitterish and shy of animals will always let you pet them. They sense your inherent kindness.
When I am sad, you let me cry. When I am tired, you let me sleep. You let me be right where I am and let me feel what I feel.
You cook me a lot of dinners and they are delicious.
You love books and art and music.
You are your own person and love me for who I am.
You subject me to various and plentiful acts of compassion a day; making me a cup of tea, taking out the garbage, giving me a hug, giving me solitude.
You raise your eyebrows up and down and it always makes me laugh.
You let me love you too.
You healed my heart, and continue to do so.
You convinced me and then proved, that loving someone again was a risk worth taking.
Even the most skitterish and shy of animals will always let you pet them. They sense your inherent kindness.
When I am sad, you let me cry. When I am tired, you let me sleep. You let me be right where I am and let me feel what I feel.
You cook me a lot of dinners and they are delicious.
You love books and art and music.
You are your own person and love me for who I am.
You subject me to various and plentiful acts of compassion a day; making me a cup of tea, taking out the garbage, giving me a hug, giving me solitude.
You raise your eyebrows up and down and it always makes me laugh.
You let me love you too.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
For Some Reason
I am completely obsessed with this song at the moment. Every time I hear it I imagine a big blob of cool blue paint falling on my brain and coating it.
Is that weird?
Is that weird?
Monday, March 09, 2009
Progress, At Least It Feels Like It
"One year isn't ten." - my maternal Grandmother
Today ended up being one of the best days I've had in ages. Granted it didn't start off too well in that my trainer was sick again and slept through her alarm. She felt so bad when she called me to cancel our session. It's so unlike her, but she's been having a rough time of it lately. I said we could easily regroup and we'd both had pretty tough winters so not to worry about it, that we'd get back on track.
She laughed and said I sounded like her.
At any rate, I got some much appreciated extra sleep and went into work a little sleepy headed but overall feeling pretty good. I had a real gauntlet to run meeting wise but I felt today like things were finally starting to sink into my brain in terms of my job and that overall, we're starting to get into a groove as a department. I have to keep reminding myself that our lovely interns leave at the end of April. They just have such great personalities and already feel so much a part of our workplace. I'll be sorry to see them go.
About this time last year, I was doing Act II of my play! I remember that week, how exhausting and exciting it was all at the same time. I'm amazed at how much I've been able to change in my life since then, but at the same time it doesn't feel like a surprise. I remember feeling like that play was a new beginning for me. The whole experience had a special quality to it and I remember thinking at the time that if I could get back on my feet in terms of acting again, I could get back on my feet in other ways. Suddenly, other things just seemed, at their purest level, possible.
And if you had told me last year that I'd be in the situation I am now at work, I don't know if I would have believed you. I've gone from being on my own in the physical outreaches of a building, trying to do the job of two people whilst working with an employee who resented my being there, to being in a skylit pod area, brightly painted and fully staffed with just my job to do.
I've gotten a demo done, and today managed to get in touch with two voice over agents who asked me to pass it on to them via email.
I physically feel better than I have in years.
I'm on a merciless clutter busting purge.
I'm eating and sleeping well and feel better able to take care of myself.
I'm on top of things for the first time in ages.
Normal life. What a concept.
Today ended up being one of the best days I've had in ages. Granted it didn't start off too well in that my trainer was sick again and slept through her alarm. She felt so bad when she called me to cancel our session. It's so unlike her, but she's been having a rough time of it lately. I said we could easily regroup and we'd both had pretty tough winters so not to worry about it, that we'd get back on track.
She laughed and said I sounded like her.
At any rate, I got some much appreciated extra sleep and went into work a little sleepy headed but overall feeling pretty good. I had a real gauntlet to run meeting wise but I felt today like things were finally starting to sink into my brain in terms of my job and that overall, we're starting to get into a groove as a department. I have to keep reminding myself that our lovely interns leave at the end of April. They just have such great personalities and already feel so much a part of our workplace. I'll be sorry to see them go.
About this time last year, I was doing Act II of my play! I remember that week, how exhausting and exciting it was all at the same time. I'm amazed at how much I've been able to change in my life since then, but at the same time it doesn't feel like a surprise. I remember feeling like that play was a new beginning for me. The whole experience had a special quality to it and I remember thinking at the time that if I could get back on my feet in terms of acting again, I could get back on my feet in other ways. Suddenly, other things just seemed, at their purest level, possible.
And if you had told me last year that I'd be in the situation I am now at work, I don't know if I would have believed you. I've gone from being on my own in the physical outreaches of a building, trying to do the job of two people whilst working with an employee who resented my being there, to being in a skylit pod area, brightly painted and fully staffed with just my job to do.
I've gotten a demo done, and today managed to get in touch with two voice over agents who asked me to pass it on to them via email.
I physically feel better than I have in years.
I'm on a merciless clutter busting purge.
I'm eating and sleeping well and feel better able to take care of myself.
I'm on top of things for the first time in ages.
Normal life. What a concept.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Happy Birthday Rosy
Today I was at my parents house to celebrate Rosy's fourth birthday. Hard to believe really. It's been such a short, yet long time.
I really like my niece at this age. Her personality is beginning to define itself, lending ever more credence to my theory that Rosy is in fact, the reincarnation of my maternal grandmother.
Rosy is, bar none, the bossiest person I have ever met in my life.
I was persona non grata today I'll have you know. There were too many new and exciting people to play with. I kept trying to get Rosy's attention, waving to her and saying hello, only to be blatantly ignored. On my third wave, I was allowed to join her and Sarah for the construction of a farm game she had gotten from her grandparents. This was all a ruse of course, as five minutes later, I was instructed by Rosy to get her an apple juice. So much for that. I felt like David Hasselhoff trying to get a part in the next Scorcese film, only to have the script for Knight Rider: Tunnel Vision 3 land on his desk. Sigh.
Today's celebration felt somewhat strange initially in that here I was at my parents house, and I knew less than half the people there. My sister's acquaintances are all very nice and really made Rosy's day special, but I didn't feel things tempered socially until the bocce ball tournament.
My father simply cannot help himself. Get a group of people together and inevitably, the fiery embers of competition alight within him. Next thing you know, you're in the midst of a take- no-prisoners Trivial Pursuit competition or in the case of today's gathering, a bocce ball extravaganza.
As usual, the women kicked everyone's asses.
The highlight for me was the Dumbarton Mob's gift to Rosy of a Harry Potter kit, replete with Hogwart's rob, wand and Harry Potteresque glasses. Rosy really looked the part, so much so that I wished there was a real Hogwart's that she could attend.
But you take what you can get in this life. Rosy settled for turning me into a frog. Apparently I'll be turned back into my normal self in time for work Monday. As you can imagine, typing this has been hell.
She was also good enough to wave her wand to start my car. I think she may have also fixed the problem with my transmission. The car ran like a dream the whole way home.
Oh and a note to any triatheletes in my readership: make sure you eat some Care Bears birthday cake before the big event. I myself will be cruising on the sugar high from my piece into the wee hours.
I really like my niece at this age. Her personality is beginning to define itself, lending ever more credence to my theory that Rosy is in fact, the reincarnation of my maternal grandmother.
Rosy is, bar none, the bossiest person I have ever met in my life.
I was persona non grata today I'll have you know. There were too many new and exciting people to play with. I kept trying to get Rosy's attention, waving to her and saying hello, only to be blatantly ignored. On my third wave, I was allowed to join her and Sarah for the construction of a farm game she had gotten from her grandparents. This was all a ruse of course, as five minutes later, I was instructed by Rosy to get her an apple juice. So much for that. I felt like David Hasselhoff trying to get a part in the next Scorcese film, only to have the script for Knight Rider: Tunnel Vision 3 land on his desk. Sigh.
Today's celebration felt somewhat strange initially in that here I was at my parents house, and I knew less than half the people there. My sister's acquaintances are all very nice and really made Rosy's day special, but I didn't feel things tempered socially until the bocce ball tournament.
My father simply cannot help himself. Get a group of people together and inevitably, the fiery embers of competition alight within him. Next thing you know, you're in the midst of a take- no-prisoners Trivial Pursuit competition or in the case of today's gathering, a bocce ball extravaganza.
As usual, the women kicked everyone's asses.
The highlight for me was the Dumbarton Mob's gift to Rosy of a Harry Potter kit, replete with Hogwart's rob, wand and Harry Potteresque glasses. Rosy really looked the part, so much so that I wished there was a real Hogwart's that she could attend.
But you take what you can get in this life. Rosy settled for turning me into a frog. Apparently I'll be turned back into my normal self in time for work Monday. As you can imagine, typing this has been hell.
She was also good enough to wave her wand to start my car. I think she may have also fixed the problem with my transmission. The car ran like a dream the whole way home.
Oh and a note to any triatheletes in my readership: make sure you eat some Care Bears birthday cake before the big event. I myself will be cruising on the sugar high from my piece into the wee hours.
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Christmas Comes But Twice A Year
July is a month that sends my wallet running for cover. I hate to be so unsentimental, but let's be honest shall we? November is a cold month. As a result, I have many July birthdays to contend with.
To protect the identity of the innocent parties indirectly associated with my online musings, I shall refer to them only by the code names they use in the criminal underworld.
My July Birthday Bandwagon consists of (and in no particular order):
Big Poppa Barney
Effy Vivaldi
Manalo Myrtle
Berry Rankin
Banana "Ragdoll" Cardova
The above listing does not include those to whom I send a July Birthday card, chock full of heartfelt - and free - goodwishes.
The madness. The sheer bloody madness of it all.
Last night I travelled to my spiritual home of Brampton, Ontario to celebrate the fact that my sister Myrtle was one year closer to contemplating Botox. (I myself am already on a payment plan. Although I would like to note for the record that neither of us look a day over 25, testament to our healthy lifestyles and respective deals with Satan.)
We went to a lovely Brampton restaurant called La Cappannina. The owner and staff at this restaurant have seen my sister and I grow up. Yes, we've been going THAT long and I have yet to have an even remotely sub-par meal there. This was our second recent trip to La Capp, as last weekend we were there for Big Poppa Barney's birthday. Oy! Tha decadence!
We then went back to my parents' house, where I was brutally Shanghaied by my niece "Rosy" into a four hour play marathon.
We began with colouring books. Rosy had a nice set of coloured pencils and asked me to choose my favourite. I of course, went with pink. Rosy chose her pencil and holding it up to sky like the Statue of Liberty, proclaimed "YELLOW!"
"Yes." I replied. "And look." I said "Look how nice it is when you put the yellow and the pink together. Isn't that pretty?"
"Yes!" Rosy replied, "Like diamonds!."
My niece is truly her mother's daughter. Although I must admit I have now comandeered this phrase for myself, declaring everything and anything I approve of as being "Like diamonds." Watch this space.
The rest of play time consisted of Hide 'N' Seek, Grocery Store, Care Bears, Send the Bums to Jail, Cooking Dinner and Livingroom Soccer.
The soccer aspect of my play torture was particularly humiliating. In a stunning upset (ok, I had a cramp) Rosy won a decisive 163 - 1 victory. We also had to sing the victory song after every goal. Oh no. I'm sorry. We sang the victory song after every one of Rosy's goals. My goals were ineligible.
The song lyrics in case you're interested are:
Nice one Rosy,
Nice one chum,
Nice one Rosy,
Let's have another one.
OY!
I also found the Grocery Store game a bit expensive. I mean sure, it was a REALLY good onion that Rosy sold me, but to my mind, $20 was an exorbitant price. Then again, it WAS a REALLY good onion. No doubt, this kid has a future in Yorkville.
Poppa Barney was comandeered for two exhilirating sessions of Ring Around the Rosies (which also included the Picking Up the Daisies cycle I might add). Our night was then wrapped up with tea and a relaxing episode of Franklin Goes to School - one of Poppa Barney's favourites.
Rosy then gave me permission to go home. I may be wrong, but I think Rosy made sure that her grandmother packed her up some of Mother Myrtle's chocolate birthday cake for the road.
Nice one chum. That cake was like diamonds.
To protect the identity of the innocent parties indirectly associated with my online musings, I shall refer to them only by the code names they use in the criminal underworld.
My July Birthday Bandwagon consists of (and in no particular order):
Big Poppa Barney
Effy Vivaldi
Manalo Myrtle
Berry Rankin
Banana "Ragdoll" Cardova
The above listing does not include those to whom I send a July Birthday card, chock full of heartfelt - and free - goodwishes.
The madness. The sheer bloody madness of it all.
Last night I travelled to my spiritual home of Brampton, Ontario to celebrate the fact that my sister Myrtle was one year closer to contemplating Botox. (I myself am already on a payment plan. Although I would like to note for the record that neither of us look a day over 25, testament to our healthy lifestyles and respective deals with Satan.)
We went to a lovely Brampton restaurant called La Cappannina. The owner and staff at this restaurant have seen my sister and I grow up. Yes, we've been going THAT long and I have yet to have an even remotely sub-par meal there. This was our second recent trip to La Capp, as last weekend we were there for Big Poppa Barney's birthday. Oy! Tha decadence!
We then went back to my parents' house, where I was brutally Shanghaied by my niece "Rosy" into a four hour play marathon.
We began with colouring books. Rosy had a nice set of coloured pencils and asked me to choose my favourite. I of course, went with pink. Rosy chose her pencil and holding it up to sky like the Statue of Liberty, proclaimed "YELLOW!"
"Yes." I replied. "And look." I said "Look how nice it is when you put the yellow and the pink together. Isn't that pretty?"
"Yes!" Rosy replied, "Like diamonds!."
My niece is truly her mother's daughter. Although I must admit I have now comandeered this phrase for myself, declaring everything and anything I approve of as being "Like diamonds." Watch this space.
The rest of play time consisted of Hide 'N' Seek, Grocery Store, Care Bears, Send the Bums to Jail, Cooking Dinner and Livingroom Soccer.
The soccer aspect of my play torture was particularly humiliating. In a stunning upset (ok, I had a cramp) Rosy won a decisive 163 - 1 victory. We also had to sing the victory song after every goal. Oh no. I'm sorry. We sang the victory song after every one of Rosy's goals. My goals were ineligible.
The song lyrics in case you're interested are:
Nice one Rosy,
Nice one chum,
Nice one Rosy,
Let's have another one.
OY!
I also found the Grocery Store game a bit expensive. I mean sure, it was a REALLY good onion that Rosy sold me, but to my mind, $20 was an exorbitant price. Then again, it WAS a REALLY good onion. No doubt, this kid has a future in Yorkville.
Poppa Barney was comandeered for two exhilirating sessions of Ring Around the Rosies (which also included the Picking Up the Daisies cycle I might add). Our night was then wrapped up with tea and a relaxing episode of Franklin Goes to School - one of Poppa Barney's favourites.
Rosy then gave me permission to go home. I may be wrong, but I think Rosy made sure that her grandmother packed her up some of Mother Myrtle's chocolate birthday cake for the road.
Nice one chum. That cake was like diamonds.
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