Happy Birthday Mom!

 Today is the day my mother would have turned 86. We lost her a few years ago, after a long decline caused by a series of strokes and other ailments. It was difficult to watch someone who was such a strong woman be reduced by illness. Life at times can be cruel.  Time marches on, with or without the people that we love.

I have come to learn that grief is an odd, strange, and personal, journey. At the strangest times, emotions well up, and memories are triggered. I had the luxury of a solo bike ride today, and while cycling I had one of those moments where my Mom was present for a moment, and I felt sad she was gone, and also grateful for all she had given me, for over 50 years. 

I think being a parent gives me a different perspective today on what my parents and my mom were able to give. I often remember her as being difficult to be with at times and strong-headed. But today I was reminded of what a unique and strong woman she was, despite a pretty tough childhood herself.  Many of the things I now do for my own kids, she did as well. Reading report cards, helping me with math and other homework, meeting with teachers, learning how the school system worked, advocating for me with the school administration, and a million other things. She did it in English, her second language, and not in her native country, in a school system that was foreign to her, in a foreign culture she had adopted. 

Parenting is no easy task, I’ve learned this first hand. It challenges me every day. Perhaps it’s a way to knock my ego down, as rarely a day goes by that I don’t feel woefully inadequate. It’s a daily challenge to find the patience needed and the energy to do all the things that the parenting handbook (in my head) says need to get done. I look at my Grade 8 son’s homework and it looks like Greek. Suddenly I need to do research on High Schools for next year, then there is a message from Carleigh’s teacher suggesting she is a handful. And of course, the colds, and cases of flu, immunizations, lost lunch bags, mitts, hats. And “Dad, can I have a $100 for the school ski trip?” And don’t forget about the $400 for dance classes. 

Today I was reminded that my mom did all this too, with many more challenges than I face today.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but she did a pretty good job. I wish I had her energy, and patience, and desire to get it done. We were not a wealthy family, but I have to say I never lacked for anything. I went on every school trip, I had a snowmobile to ride from the age of six, a pony in the back yard, went skiing whenever I wanted, swam pretty much every day all summer, always had a car to drive from the age of 16 and so much more.  As a kid, some of these things weren’t always up to the standard I would have liked, but that is a part of growing up to. Want something better? Get a job and buy it yourself.  Now I know why sometimes the answer was “no” when requests were unreasonable.  Now I know why I was expected to cut the grass, help with the firewood, feed the animals. Because I was being shown what it’s all about to be part of a family. We all had to contribute.  

As a grown-up, and when I became a parent, my parents and my mom were still there to teach and love us. Even when I was 50 I was still her boy, and she was my biggest booster.  She loved nothing more than a visit from her grandchildren, and all of us around the kitchen table for a big meal.  I am grateful I was able to give them that gift. Grateful we had time with her, it was more than I expected. My parents said more than once, their goal was to provide my sister and I with more choices than they had been given.  And they succeeded in spades.  We had many conversations over the years, broken fences mended. Hard feelings heeled. 

But I don’t think I ever told her how proud I was of her, & how grateful I was for everything she gave. This one’s for you mom.  

Ramblings of a Tired Son, Dad & Husband

Here we are, a day before another birthday. Can’t believe how old the calendar says I have become. My body tells me it’s true, my head and heart disagree on many days.  It’s been a long while since I have had the inspiration to write down some thoughts.  It seems the past 18 months have zapped much of my energy, and a desire to share my thoughts. But today… I will try.

A few days ago, a social media friend inspired me to get back to my blog. We have never met in person, yet via social media, I feel a kinship.  He says I inspire him to get on his bike, a few days ago he posted a heartfelt note about his Dad, marking the anniversary of his death. It was a touching message that resonated with me, and for the first time, I felt that perhaps I had something to share again.

On so many days it truly feels like I am Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. So much changed in March of 2020.   So many aspects of our lives ground to a halt, and others changed direction abruptly.  And now we are approaching October of 2021 and it still feels like we can’t get any real wind in our sails.  When the first shutdown hit, it was certainly odd and a bit like the twilight zone. So much of our fast-paced life suddenly stopped, no school lunches to pack, no extracurricular sports, no movie theatres, no skating rinks, no trampoline parks, no visits with relatives and friends.  Logic would suggest that this would leave an abundance of energy to put into other areas, but that never materialized. Why?

Covid-19 has not only infected millions of people, but it has dramatically affected many of us in many other ways. And quite frankly it’s been exhausting. Yes, we have had more time, but conversely, Covid has made so many things more difficult.

While Covid has forced many things to grind to a halt, life and death have continued whether we wanted it to or not.  A month after the Covid lock down my father passed away unexpectedly. He’s been gone now for about 18 months, and I am still processing this life change.  Despite covid, we had to move ahead and deal with the necessities when a parent passes away. My mother had left us the year before, so now my sister and I are full-grown orphans. I should have been ready, but I wasn’t.  If my parents were still alive, did I really have to accept full adulthood?  Yet here we are.  A few weeks ago, I completed perhaps the last major responsibility of being the executor of his estate. With that comes another layer of finality. Symbols strike me at the strangest time. Dad’s chequebook is on my desk, and I realize that I won’t be needing that anymore.  I have thought about our relationship. I was lucky to have him in my life for over 50 years. When I was young, I was often told I was like my mom and her side of the family, fair-skinned, blonde-haired, and I spent a lot of time with my Mom as a youngster, as my mother was a stay at home mom for a number of years.  My Dad was a very hard-working guy, never one to take many vacations or days off. If he laid down on the couch it was newsworthy.  Yet he always made time for me and I spent so much time with him. He had a short temper and lacked patience on many things, yet he really was a very patient dad when we were alone together, and I now appreciate how he rarely shut me down, and just answered all the inane questions I peppered at him. I wish I had that patience with my own son, I guess it’s something to work on.  When I was a teen, we butted heads, mostly because I was choosing to spend time with my friends instead of with him. But despite all our disagreements, he always had my back, and I never doubted it.  And in recent years when photos were posted, I would get comments that I was so much like my Dad. As a young man, I was critical of my parents, now as a parent myself, I marvel at many of the things they did for me.   I wore one of my Dad’s shirts when I walked the dog tonight. Even though he has been gone a while he is still here, and I am still letting go.  

Covid has meant that many rights of passage have been missed by our family and our kids.  My kids weren’t able to mourn the death of a grandfather surrounded by extended family and friends. We couldn’t gather.  My Niece has a new son, who turned 1 in August, we have never met him in person, I have never held him.  The extended family has experienced illness, and we can’t visit to lend support.

My kids should have been in school, growing friendships, playing sports, having playdates. Instead, they were stuck spending many of their days in our house behind laptops, trying to listen to teachers. Teachers that had to learn on the fly, to teach subjects that were never meant to be taught online, with
minimal resources or help.  And I watched these kids struggle socially and academically, while we struggled to keep them healthy and do the next right thing. My son became a teenager this summer, and he was robbed of a celebration with friends.   He decided to have a conversation last night at 10:55PM, telling me he doubted Covid was going to end anytime soon. He was disturbed to see comments on a TikTok video about the vaccine showing many young people as anti-vaxers. He feels many of the limitations and requirements such as masks, social distancing, and limited school activities are here to stay. He’s not wrong, as we get closer to vaccination goals in this country, we will begin to have more freedoms, but it’s remarkably difficult to trust it.  He’s in grade 8, soon he will be graduating elementary school. What will that look like?  He should be worrying about first dates, not vaccines.

I was fortunate to have an employer that rolled with these challenges. And I was able to take the time required to be a dad first. But the stop-start, stop-start work thing has been trying.   Meanwhile, my better half kept soldiering on, working in a cobbled-together home office in the basement, competing for internet with 3 other laptops. The 4 of us occupying 2000 sq ft 24/7. Ahhh togetherness!   Oh and I forgot the dog! Bart was here too of course but he didn’t need a laptop.

I have experienced many changes and weird times over my years on this planet, but the past 18 months have amped up the weirdness.  For the first time in 20 years, we did not visit any extended family at Christmas. It was beyond strange to have a laptop on our dining room table at Christmas dinner, with a zoom call, camera on, with my in-laws. Because it was the only way we could be “together” at a time we were always together.  The oddest part, trying to make it seem “normal” for the sake of the kids. It was not normal…  

It has been remarkable how difficult things became, that once were simple.  Covid meant no babysitters, which meant no date nights…for 18 months. 6 weeks ago, we finally managed a breakfast

“out” together with no kids in tow. It was fabulous, and weird, at the same time. 

What’s the new normal going to look like?  Will the anger and hostility in our society calm down? Will it be possible to give somebody a hug without having 2^nd thoughts about appropriateness and risk? Will, what was once simple, be simple again? Will it be possible to make long-term plans with confidence that they won’t have to be canceled? Will it be possible to have a 5-minute conversation with a friend that doesn’t end up being about Covid?  I remain optimistic that we will come out the other side of this, but it’s been a long journey.  

I am not sure what I am trying to convey here. Perhaps it’s to justify to myself why I feel the way I do. I’m sorry if this comes across as a bit of a downer, but writing has always been therapeutic for me and I’m glad it’s out of me now. There are so many people that have stories much more trying than mine. I get that. But man I’m tired.