How stupid do you think I am?

One of my sisters, lets call her DB, has been on my shit list for a while. Actually, she isn't on that list or any other. I just don't bother with her. Don't usually think about her.

Our Mother had major surgery a couple of years ago. She was in the hospital about 5 days then home to recover. It was about a month and a half before this sister came to visit her. A week before Christmas. To get and drop off presents. In the years since then I can count the number of times she has visited Mom on ONE hand. Visited, not actually done anything for.

Why, you might ask? She has excuses. Too busy week days. Too busy weekends. The week days, fine, she babysits a load of kids. But she does manage to take a week off several times a year to go shopping in the states. Just has no time to visit her Mother.

A few days ago I got a Facebook message from her. She told me that she had messaged Mom. She had to have her dog put down. It had been suffering from a disease for years and had developed kidney/liver problems as well. For that she got my condolences. Then she went on to say that NOW that she doesn't have to stay home with the dog all the time she will be able to visit Mom.

Wow. She blamed her absence in Mom's life on the dog. Claiming she couldn't leave the dog alone. I don't know how fucking stupid she thinks I am but I do know that she would go to the US shopping several times a year. Usually for a week. She Facebooks about it every time she goes.

But she couldn't leave the dog alone for a few hours to visit her Mother. She only lives about a 15-20 minute drive away. US, no problem for a week. Mom for an hour or so, too hard. Fuck me.

The DB stands for Douchebag.

Grizzly

What are the odds?

Grizzly has cancer. It is in his right leg and inoperable. Two years ago we started going through the same thing with Ruger but the opposite front leg.

They removed a tumour from Grizzly's leg but it WILL be back. When is up in the air but it will return. When it does and gets to a certain size ... it is time to let him go. :( Let him go. What a fucking stupid play on words. It is time to ... what do you say? Say good bye? Kill him? It is hard to put everything into one little catch phrase.

When the tumour gets to a certain size the only humane thing to do is have him euthanised. If not, the tumour will burst. Or break his bones, disjoint his leg, AND burst. It isn't fair to put him through that. I will not say life isn't fair but there are things we can do that are fair or unfair. Putting him through that would be wrong.

When it comes to cancer you start grieving right away. Regardless of the time remaining that is how we think. We (my family) did it when my father was wrongly diagnosed with cancer. When he rightly was. When Ruger was. Now, when Grizzly was. It is hard not to start the process right away. It is hard not to think of their life as over at that minute. It is wrong to do it but that is how we think.

What is important is that Grizzly has had a good life with us and until the end it will continue that way. We do and will always love him. He is part of our family and regardless of what happens always will be. :(

My Father

This post is something I wrote a several months ago. I often write things and never post them or share them. It is cathartic to me just to put what I am feeling into words. Often it just lets me put things into perspective or get them off my chest. I can't recall the number of emails, posts, etc that I wrote and never shared.

You will see it mentioned below but it bears repeating, or would that be pre-repeating? I don't like airing some aspects of my life. Yet I saved this. And revised it. And saved it again. And forgot about it. And remembered it. And re-revised it. And ignored it. And forgot it. And remembered it. Ok, enough, you get the idea. It goes against the grain but I am going to post this.

*******

As I mentioned in another post, I don't like airing some aspects of my life publicly. Even if it something that happened many years ago. Sometimes I do find myself willing to talk about it. As I write this I don't even know if I will post it. Sometimes I like to write things out because it lets me work through them.

I was channel surfing tonight and came upon an episode of Gene Simmons Family Jewels. He had gone back to Israeli to meet family (brother and sisters) he didn't know he had and visited his father's grave. He hadn't seen his father since he was about 7 and had a lot of hard feelings because of it.

It made me think of myself and my father. Dad wasn't perfect and god knows I'm not. He had a lot of issues going back to his childhood. It wasn't always easy to get along with him especially the last few years of his life, until the last year. Actually, before that last year, actually 10 months, we almost came to blows a few times.

Dad had cancer. The doctors figured that he must have had it for quite a few years before it was detected. When they found it they thought they had detected colon cancer early and could nip it in the bud. When they went to operate they opened him up and closed him. He was riddled with cancer. They gave him a month or so to live and he lasted 10 months.

A few years before the cancer was detected he went through a big personality change, for the worse. This caused a lot of problems in our relationship. If it wasn't that he was my father I probably would have taken a swing at him a few times. Odds are he would have kicked my ass but he pushed me to that limit. A lot of words were said between us that usually can't be taken back.

The doctors asked about a personality change in the past. When we mentioned it they seemed to expect it. The cancer was up into his head and he was in pain. Dad was the type of person that believed you never showed your pain. He had a high tolerance, as do I. His must have been phenomenal. The day before he went in for the surgery he used an auger and we put fence posts in. The doctors, based on how much pain he should be in, were astounded that he could do that let alone function. They said the big personality pain was probably due to the pain and the cancer getting into his brain.

I was torn. On the one hand I hated Dad at that point in life. If you think I am angry because of posts I make know I probably would have scared the shit out of you back then. I was fueled by my anger at my father and forgiveness was not something you would find with me. Then I found out that the last years were not all his fault or mine. (I blamed myself at times for the rift that developed with my father even if I couldn't pinpoint what it was I said or did that caused it. I felt guilty for being angry with him and hating him. It hurts to say it but at that point in time I pretty much hated him.)

Then Dad went on the pain meds. In retrospect I would like to think it was BOOM everything is sweetness and light and we all kumbayad and things were normal. Unfortunately, that is not reality. It wasn't as quick and I was still dealing with, and in some ways suppressing, my old feelings. He did change a lot as his pain receded, the old dad that I knew and loved started returning. Maybe facing his mortality had something to do with it too.

In the first couple of weeks, of what we thought would only be 4-6 weeks, Dad and I talked. We started working things out and I did something I didn't think I was capable of. I forgave him for what happened and he did something I didn't think he was capable of, he apologized and forgave me. It wasn't an easy 10 months but we salvaged our relationship.

Seeing Gene Simmons crying at his Father's grave and beating himself up because his anger and pride wouldn't let him reach out to his father hit me hard. Knowing my temper and temparmant at the time that could easily have been me with my father. If we hadn't made up I could quite easily have finished University and cut him out of my life. We made up in time for me to lose him.

A story.

My life was falling apart. Everything shitty that could be happening seemed to be, all at the same time. I had broken up with my fiance. I was out of work with no immediate prospects for a job. Along with that I was having money problems and my old boss was trying to screw me over. I was having a falling out with one of my best friends. And just to round things off I was having some health problems. All in all it was not a good time to be me.

The stress and depression was intense. If I had believed in suicide I probably would have killed myself. At times all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and ignore the world.

One night I went to sleep depressed as usual. For some reason I woke up at 3 AM on the dot. Or as on the dot as any digital clock can be. Something felt off .. strange. It felt like someone was in the room with me. I looked at the foot of the bed and that is when I saw them.

Standing at the end of my bad was my Father and my dog Zeus. That might not seem so strange except for the fact my father had died 7 years and my dog 2 years before that night. I know how incredible it sounds, the ghosts of my father and dog. Was I still sleeping?

My father never actually spoke. It was as if I could feel what he wanted to say. I felt ... reassured. Safe. Loved. It was as if he was somehow telling me not to worry. Life would get better. They were watching over me.

Then they were gone. I blinked a few times and doubted everything that had just happened. Then I laid back down and went to sleep.

When I woke up I felt refreshed. The sense of stress and depression hadn't vanished but it wasn't as strong. I even felt something that I hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity. Hope. Life did progress and things got better.

The few people I told about this story scoffed at it. It was just a dream. Your mind was playing tricks. They may be right or maybe I really did see two ghosts that night.

I guess I learned something.

One of my brothers is visiting with his wife. He is a handful on a good day. His idea of fun is pushing peoples buttons to get a reaction. Usually I ignore him and that bothers him because he wants a reaction. He usually gets his wife screaming at him with his antics. So, the house is loud and there is a lot of confusion at times. This has stressed my mother out.

All of which means I play tour guide and baby sitter at times. The baby sitter comment is meant more jokingly than seriously. I have had a lot of fun showing them around and spending time with them. Mom has had a few ... hmmm ... incidents where she has lashed out, at me, because she is stressed. She can't understand how I can put up with everything and not get stressed out.

I guess it was living and working in Korea that did it for me. I won't say I learned patience because I am not a patient person. When it comes to his wife, she is deaf and due to idiots for parents she was treated as if she was mentally disabled for a good portion of her childhood. I have no problem talking with her because I am used to dealing with people whose English ability could range from non-existent to native. You just have to pay extra attention in order to understand her. You also have to watch the level of your language and the speed at which you talk. Nothing that I haven't done for the last 10 years in Korea.

Working in Korea and dealing with bullshit also helped. I got used to dealing with confusion, last minute "surprises", and a lack of punctuality. Add to that the stupidity I would encounter pretty much daily. All of which helps me deal with the visit. For me the visit isn't that stressful. It is no different than daily life was in Korea.

Family BS

While I missed my Family while I lived in South Korea I didn't miss some of the bull shit that comes along with every family.

My mother isn't fragile but she isn't in perfect health. She has a heart problem that she is on medication for. Add to that the fact she is a worrier.

Then you have her sister, my Aunt. I love my Aunt but she is too much like her mother. That means she is a nosy, gossipy, bitch. She is never happier than when she is meddling in peoples lives and causing trouble carrying tales.

My Uncle was coming to visit and bringing my cousin. (My cousin is special needs.) Prior to the visit there is a spate of phone calls from ... my Aunt. She would prattle on and on to mom about my Uncle. My Cousin. And shit loads of stuff that just isn't anyone's business but my Uncle.

My Uncle never lets you know when he is leaving. He lives 3 provinces away, about a 18 hour drive. Usually he will drive straight through only stopping for fuel and food. Sometimes he will sleep in his car. Since he has his son with him he might get a hotel room. So we knew roughly when he was coming and were ready.

Of course, my aunt, being her usual self, had to call my mother one evening, when she knows we are eating dinner. That is her favourite time to call. she had to let mom know that my Uncle left that morning and would be there the next day. Now she wasn't calling for him. He never asked her to. She just took it upon herself to do it. Probably because it gave her another chance to gossip and slag my Uncle and the other relatives there.

Oh, I don't talk to my Aunt on the phone other than to say hello. I have no time for her bull shit. I tend to tell her off when she starts it, no one else seems to do it, so she would rather get my mom who will listen and say nothing.

The next day arrives. No Uncle. Mom is starting to worry. That evening no uncle. The Aunt has called a couple of times and has started doom and gloom scenarios. So mom is really worrying and not resting.

Next morning no Uncle. Mom hasn't slept because she is worrying too much. She has visions of a car accident thanks to my bitch of an aunt. I end up taking my mom to the RCMP to see if his name has turned up in an accident report. There isn't much they could do since me had no plate number or make of car. His name didn't show but that didn't make her feel much better.

That night he showed up. He hadn't come straight to see us. Instead he took a side trip to PEI. My Aunt knew he was doing that but never mentioned it for some reason. It made it easier for her to cause problems that way. Instead of just minding her fucking business she got my mother all wound up.

There has been a bit of that shit going on, not just with my aunt, since I got home. A few family members have been told. A few more are working their way to it.

It kind of kills the joy of being around family again.

Regrets

Regrets. I don't have many but after today I do have a new one.

My Great Aunt had a cottage in my Father's home town. My family goes way back there. We used to own a lot of land but it was gradually sold off. The cottage was originally built by my Great Grandfather. They originally lived up the street (a fair ways up.) OK, street is being too kind. It was a dirt path/road that ended up a hill and intersected with a real road. He had a fight with his wife and ended up going down to the beach and started building the cottage. He lived in his boat while he built it.

I spent a lot of time at the cottage when I was young. All of us did. We had lots of bonfires and clam bakes down on the beach. I spent countless hours up and down the beach. Running through the woods with the dogs. One of the best Christmas' I ever had was at the cottage.

Then Dad got sick. The cottage was a place I always went with him. He did so much work on it for my Great Aunt that it seemed like another home. He taught me how to dig clams there, fish with an old fashioned reel, even some sailing. All of it there.

After Dad died I just couldn't bring myself to go back there. It held so many good memories but I was afraid it would never be the same again. Oh sure I talked about going but somehow I always came up with excuses not to go.

Then my Aunt sold it and moved to a different town. The buyers said they would keep the cottage for personal use. They own an Inn beside it. They ended up buying all the houses on the street.

It has been over 22 years since Dad died. Today I returned to his home town for the first time. For the most part it is just liked I remembered it. For the most part.

My Great Aunt's cottage is gone. :( It has been torn down and a house built in it's place. A nice house but not the building I expected to see. We don't have a lot of pictures of the cottage or us there. (Luckily I have lots of memories.) It kind of deflated me to see the cottage gone.

I wish I hadn't waited so long to go back. Many of our family and friends who lived there have moved on or died. Even part of the road system through has changed. I couldn't even find the cemetery my Great Grand Parents are buried in.

I won't make the same mistake again.

Humidor

I knew my brother had 2 humidors when I went back to Korea last year. I was VERY jealous and kept promising myself to get one when I returned. I never did get one.

Unbeknownst to me, my brother got a THIRD humidor. Last week he GAVE it to me as a welcome home present. Along with 60 cigars. (It holds about 300.) Damn! I was gobsmacked. It brought a tear to my eye.

I am finally the proud owner of a humidor. Now I need to build up my collection. Do you know anyone going to Cuba? ;)

Never knew I missed it.

Tonight I had a fantastic sit down dinner with family. Except for Christmas, and I have only had 1 of those in the last 10 years, this was the first in ages. My mother and I went to a brothers house. His wife prepared a FANTASTIC prime rib roast beef dinner. Roast potatoes, broccoli, carrots, gravy. Two of my nieces were there with their significant others. A great meal, great dessert, and great conversation. It was great.

After dinner I had a fine Cohiba Churchill and Appleton Estate rum with my brother. Great combination.

I never realized just how much I enjoy a sit down family dinner. There will definitely be more and soon.