family

Family and Friends


Rob asked me the first night back why I had wanted to make the trip here. This was after observing me with my folks when we finally arrived. Neither of my parents really listened to much of what I had to say and my mom especially would interrupt me to talk about herself. And that is just them. As I had explained to Rob before, no one in my family really gets me on a deep level or truly understands who I am. He has said himself that I am a “complex” person, though I am not sure why he thinks so. I suppose I am a contradiction at times but I am not sure that qualifies me for “complex” which sounds so much more interesting than it is.

I am not sure I wanted to come back as much as I just needed to for a bit. To check on my folks who are getting older and are not healthy, my father especially. Katy needed to see her grandparents and cousin, Luke. She has and is adjusting quite well in Alberta but she is still just a very little girl. The high school reunion thing was just a coincidence. As it turns out I will probably not see many people from back in those days. Everyone lives so far away and has significant people and family that have taken them far from Dubuque and the kids that we once were. It’s okay. I have never been one to have those BFF type relationships with people who stick with you for lifetimes and would come at the drop of the hat if called upon to do so. I find those types of friendships interesting but don’t know anyone personally who has one. And maybe no one really has someone like that. Maybe it is more the case that we have people who are supportive of us in ways we accept as good enough, often enough. If that makes any sense.

I think the biggest reason I agreed to take this trip was for the opportunity to show Rob where I came from and to spend some time off by ourselves which we haven’t had really since moving in together and marrying. My mom is a willing sitter and Katy has come to expect to be allowed to stay at my folks when we visit. This allows Rob and I the kind of one on one and intimacy that isn’t a given when you marry the second time.

My best friend, Vicki, took the day off and is driving over with her mom and daughter, Lindsay for a quick visit this afternoon. If I have a friend who comes closest to “drop everything” it is her.

Today it’s rainy. Iowa should be synonymous with “swamp” and “sub-tropic” and “Noah” as in ark. I do not miss the biblical rain season here which grows longer and longer as global warming picks up its pace. Rob and I will head out to Starbucks soon and then up to my folks. They enjoy our presence, and they enjoy fact that we are useful. We made dinner last night and cleaned up after. Rob changed the door nob on the bathroom door, so it actually locks again. I guess you can go home again, as long as you are just visiting.

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving


Heading down to Saskatchewan in a while for the holiday weekend. Got to hand to it Canadians, they know how to space their holidays. Back in the States it’s feast of famine in terms of time away from the grind but up here the year seems to be evenly broken into a plethora of official holidays that result in three and four day weekends. That’s another thing about Canadians, whenever possible, they hold their holidays on Monday. The school year, which would break the back of the average American kid, is ten whole months long but it has all these lovely holidays in addition to the official provincial and national ones. Yes, that’s right. Provinces can schedule their own holidays. Puts U.S. states’ rights in its rightful place, right between “weenie” and “wuss”.

Monday is Thanksgiving here. We had planned to lay about. There is work to be done winterizing and since it seem to be snowing all around us, though not here yet, it’s something we need to be moving a bit more swiftly on. However, Rob’s mom is moving to B.C. in a few weeks and needed him to come down and take care of a few things his younger sister can’t help out with. Yeah, there is a story there but I am not at liberty to tell it. Suffice to say that are issues and I am sure you can imagine the rest without any further assistance. I am just standing over here in the corner of my blog, not saying a word.

Saskatchewan is an eight hour drive through terrain that makes Nebraska seem interesting. Since I have made it once before, and much of it is on two lane highway (Canadians do not believe in mega highways like Americans do. Back in the states there are four lane highways in the middle of nowhere simply so farmers can get from the homestead to the back forty fifteen minutes faster). It takes forever to get there. Though once there, Regina is a somewhat interesting place. A place I won’t see much more of this time than the first time I was there in June. Perhaps I will get a bit of real writing done as I will be internet inaccessible, but more likely I will work on yet another attempt at winning the mystery story contest in the Edmonton journal. Some other SAHM won it this week which means I have to read another chapter in this increasingly boring story. But, I am nothing if not pig-headed and single-minded when it comes to at least seeing this damn contest through to its end. I suppose I could write one of those “thankful” lists that people do when Thanksgiving comes around. When I was in grade school the nuns had us do this every year. It was a bit like having to think up sins for confession once a month. Not that I haven’t much to be thankful for but the holiday itself is such a sham. Below the 49th it is sold as the day the pilgrims sat down with their friendly Native American neighbors and gave thanks for surviving their first year. Of course the real story behind the Plymouth pilgrims is more on the order of the sordid stuff that would have made it an awesome reality show had there been such a thing as television back then. Then, of course, is the reality that Thanksgiving was actually a propaganda tool of the Lincoln administration during that unpopular war he was stuck with known as the Civil War. But whatever, I am not at all sure what meaning Canadians have attached to it beyond the fact that it’s been about six weeks since the last holiday Monday around here.

I am thankful for the six or ten of you who read this blog and want to wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving from Canada.

For a Reason


Gravestones, Koyoto, Japan

Image via Wikipedia

Everything happens for a reason.

 

Without a doubt that is one of the more irritating platitudes you will hear during the first year or so of widowhood. Because even if it is true, it’s the last thing you want to try and force your shattered heart to accept. That the love you had, the life you lived, was in some ways never meant to be. At least not in the Hallmark card version of marriage most of us view as the rule rather than the exception. Two white-haired octogenarians sitting on a porch in the twilight, holding hands and rocking slowly in a swing.

 

My husband got sick just about five years ago when I was pregnant with our only child. He died a long slow degrading death. It was a genetic disease, and he passed the marker for it along to our daughter who will someday run the risk of passing it on to a son, who will die the same way his grandfather did. Meant to be?

 

We live in a cause/effect world, so yes, probably there is a reason for everything that happens. That doesn’t mean that the reason was something profound or wonderful or even good for all parties involved. And it doesn’t have anything to do with people being good or bad. People will come into and exit our lives for our whole life. That is just the way life is. Does knowing this make it easier to accept? Hurt less?

 

Was I meant to be a widow? Raise a child on my own? Maybe. For a short time this has been my destiny. Even if there is a “plan” mapped out for us all, what difference does that make? Would knowing make Will’s death, the way he died even, hurt less? Make being a widowed mother easier? Meeting Rob the way I did and coming to love and trust and depend on him as I do. Destiny? Sometimes there are no answers. We just do the best we can. Get up every day and put one foot in front of the other. Be grateful for the wonderful things that once were and in awe of that which is.

 

A family came through the house last evening with yet another realtor. Very nice. Very polite. The husband was more interested than the wife which makes me think they will not be the eventual buyers. When it comes to buying a home, it is usually about what mom wants. Three very well-behaved children. I want the house to go to a family. It would make me feel better to know that someone will live out those dreams here that Will and I were never meant to.