Ashes to Ashes....

I was in foster care as a teenager. My foster parents attended a Vineyard church. I'd had some experience with religion as a child; when my Mother needed help and turned to whatever religious group was nearby. However, I completely lacked the social graces of shutting up and being force fed bullshit. My un-churched views were not appreciated by my youth group pastor. I didn't appreciate his propaganda though, so we were even.

I will never forget a disagreement we had where he drew a very large circle on the chalkboard and handed me the chalk. He asked me to assume the circle was all the knowledge of all things in the world; be it languages, history, people, faiths, families, individuals, all knowledge to ever be known in history or yet to be history. He asked me to pretend it was a pie chart and display just how much I knew. I remember his words stated something about my arrogance in arguing with him and my lack of knowledge due to my age. I replied that age had nothing to do with it. I took the chalk, blew the scant dust off of it toward the chalkboard. There was nothing to be seen in the circle. I passed the chalk back and said "your turn, what do you know?"

He left the church less than a month later. I don't know who he was, nor do I know what became of him. 

I will never forget admitting that of all the knowledge there is in the world...past, present and future.....the knowledge I do possess amounts to dust. There is a freedom in it. 

My dance with organized religion lasted little over a decade. I do have faith, but not in anything that amounts to a hill of dust. 

The Day They Broke Our Door Down

Monday afternoon my daughters came home, approached the door and were about to enter the code for our keyless entry when my oldest noticed the door was already open and something was wrong. She pushed the door open to discover it had been busted down and our home was ransacked. 

In all honesty I feel extremely lucky. No one was home, no one was injured, our Maine Coon cats are just fine. The robbers didn't take anything that couldn't be carried easily. Meaning we still have the very expensive items that didn't fit in a backpack. They took all my valuable jewels. There was no real vandalism or trashing of my home that couldn't be repaired with a little effort. Oh, except the front door which was effectively destroyed and took more than 10 man hours to repair. Kudos to my Manthingy and his dear friend Sean. 

I don't want to talk about those things though. I have to get the mental shit out of my head. I have to see this in writing instead of chasing it in circles around my brain. 

Let's get the obvious out of the way right now. If someone breaks into your home it leaves you feeling violated. It doesn't matter if they come in when your home or not, if they trash the entire place or simply count coup on you. It's certainly arguable that there are different levels of violation; I don't wish to delve into that though. I want to very broadly state that no matter what the case is it is a violation. Due to the feeling of violation you will lose sleep. 

I slept fine the first night. In fact, I slept so well it was eerie. He was up all night that first night; restless sleep, bolting upright at any sound, tossing and turning. He was a wreck in the morning and I was all beautifully rested. 

The second night, last night, was my torture. So here I am trying to get it all out. I need to sort my thoughts. Stack them nicely, watch them topple over. Arrange them according to size, then scramble them all up again. I know it's futile because no matter how I sort them or arrange them I won't grasp the concept or the reasoning. I have to get it out of my head and onto paper though, it's a quirk I have. 

I can fathom that this person/people may be someone we know. The person may even be able to read this. I don't know if it was one person or more than one. I don't know the gender or age. It could have been anyone. 

Whoever it was, they wanted into my home so much that they chose the most difficult entrance. The got through my deadbolt. Didn't break the window in my door, didn't break any windows. The person just pried it open, the dead bolt wasn't disturbed. My neighbor came over and had to push the dead bolt back into the door so he could close it and keep our cats and home warm. I went looking on-line for ways to deter robbers and always in the top ten are things like a deadbolt (which we had), motion lights (which we have), doors and windows locked (they were), mail and newspapers not piled up (they weren't), lights on timers (got 'em), "beware of dog" sign even if you don't have one (got that too), alarm company stickers in the windows (previous owners DID have an alarm system). It's not like we were an easy target other than we weren't home! 

With all that being said, what restores a feeling of security? Time? Do we eventually forget the rawness? An alarm system would not have prevented this. Alarm systems do not prevent people who really want in. I'm not saying it won't deter most thieves, I'm saying that if they want in bad enough they'll get in. My question is still unanswered though. In the past 40 hours we've looked at Mantraps, security cameras, biometric locks, locks of every variety for every point of entry. Mantraps are by far the most fun. We've replaced our door and made a few modifications to aide the illusion of security. 

I understand dogs now. No, not in a "I've lost my mind and now I hear what dogs are saying to us" manner. I understand why people have them. I understand why people walk their dogs, pick up the dog shit and keep dogs that chew the shit out of things. I get it now. Dog is man's best friend. They hear what man can't, sound the alarm when something is wrong, the right dog can be intimidating. It's an exchange....the dog cares for you and you care for the dog. Now listen, I'm not daft. My family had dogs my ENTIRE life. I looooooooooved dogs. I loved having a dog around and I remember it vividly. Some of you will understand this while many of you don't. I had my heart broken by a dog. We'll call him a dog because essentially he filled the role. He wasn't a dog though, he is irreplaceable and he ruined me for dogs. He was 100% purebred Timberwolf. I know right? It's true though. The police confirmed it and the story is quite spectacular......until it ends with broken hearts and a dead wolf. Every dog seems stupid now. I know it's harsh and I don't mean to offend you. A Timberwolf will outmatch and outwit your dog any day. It's physical capabilities are off the charts. We had someone break in to our house when I was about 6 and not one of us ever lost a nights sleep. Smokey didn't bark to alert us or the intruder. He waited silently on the other side of our back door. I don't know what the intruder thought when he was greeted by Smokey. All we found was blood, a trail of blood leading to the corner and then it stopped. Smokey didn't disturb our slumber and no one lost sleep after the break-in. He was not a dog and since Smokey died I've never bonded with another animal. This is the first time in the 27 years since he died that I've wanted to bond again.

The intruder took down our bedroom curtains. Didn't rip them out of the wall or harm anything. Didn't throw them across the room, but laid them carefully below the window. Why? Was the room too dark? Why expose a line of sight? You're robbing a house for christsake!! Why would you make yourself more visible? Unless you can see us from where you reside......unless you like to watch. The lights in the house were turned on, my bedroom light and lamp were on. Removing the curtain makes no sense. Had it been done destructively I wouldn't wonder....but it wasn't. 

The intruder looked through my photo albums and my diary. Ummmm....how much time did the intruder have? How did they know they had time for that? Even if they knew they had time why did they take time to do that?

There is so much of value that they didn't take....are they coming back? Never mind them coming back. What about some other criminal?! They don't know we've already been hit. People have said that once everything is brand new and replaced criminals will hit the same place 6 months later. 

End result is someone broke through my dead bolt, walked through my house, spent time sifting through my stuff, walked into my daughter's rooms and our room with no concern and no one knew. 

I understand now why my daughter hates sleeping on the main floor, all alone while we sleep upstairs. If someone were on a blood thirsty rampage she wouldn't stand a chance. She'd be dead before we were even aware of a problem. 

Yeah, I know....fantastical notions and too many scary movies. I know my situation is not bad and it could have been far worse. Tell me that at 3am when I hear a bang though. 

There is a freedom that comes with pain...

Being lied to for more than half your life sucks. Being lied to by someone you love is worse. Being told the facts of life by your own children is unfathomably worse. 

Having children is hard sometimes; especially hard when they are 1/3 your age and outsmart you. Being stupid sucks. 

Wasting time watching "The Expendables" is stupid.

Clearly shit sucks right now and I feel stupid. 

I've been lied to by my Mother for over half my life. She doesn't know that I know....yet. Shit is about to go from bad to worse as Christmas approaches. I don't even fuckin' care anymore. I'm pretty sure she can view this....I still don't fuckin' care because I'm not taking those calls anymore. 

Stick a fork in me.

When All Is Said & Done

My trip to see my Nanny was difficult from start to finish. I don't know the family very well. Trying to get to know them at this stage is fun but fills me with a great sense of loss. It brings forth a swell of emotions, most of which I've dealt with so many times it's ridiculous. At least this puts a new spin on old feelings, I'm thankful for the spin. 

My Grampa was rough on me regarding my relationship with my father, but I understand his point of view. In the end he came to understand mine and suggested I ignore all the advice he'd attempted to give me. He has always loved me and it's hard when he sometimes asks me who I am. He knew me when I was a very little girl; he's  never known me as an adult. 

My all-time favorite Uncle and his new wife, my new Auntie, basically wrapped their lovin' arms around me and adopted me as their own. They promised to take care of me and opened their whole world to me. My "new" Auntie is won-der-ful. She is a Southern Belle who let me introduce her to curry chicken. I met his previous wife and let me tell you, he traded up significantly.

My cousins and I had a sleep over. It involved Crown Royal & Vodka. We are the three oldest girls, the oldest girl has no shame in waxing on about how she "paved the way" for the two of us. There was a lot of laughter. Again making it all bittersweet.

My father was himself. He exchanged a short, very abrupt "hello" in the hospital room. I have no words for him. We all went out to an amazing Greek restaurant where he actually screamed at me for moving a chair. Something along the lines of "the manager already told us to keep this area clear for the serving staff". Which obviously I was expected to be aware of even though I was at the exact opposite end, completely out of earshot and simply wanted to pull up a quick chair to speak with my Grampa who was sitting with his hearing aid off because he was sitting next to my father who doesn't talk to him.  So my father literally yells this at me. It was worth the verbal lashing to see all his siblings give him the glare of scorn. I know I'm petty....shhhhhh. 

During my time there I spent a few afternoons alone with my Nanny. Holding her hand while she slept. Brushing her hair. Playing Nat King Cole for her. She slept most of the time. Twice I put my head down on her pillow and slept next to her. Cuddling was impossible, but with her in the bed and I in the chair we managed to hold hands and nap together. She would wake up and ask me who I was. I would tell her and we would talk briefly. She would say things like "it sure is nice to have a friend like you" and "I'm sorry if I hurt you". I assured her that all she'd ever done was love me. Mostly it was her sleeping and being the very weakened shell of the woman I remembered.

I went to see my Nanny again, one last time before boarding my flight. Favorite Uncle, Auntie and I went, all dragging our heals. None of us particularly wanted to go, the hospital smelled of urine, the halls were full of patients wandering around in various stages of disrobe and asking questions that weren't decipherable. One woman even had instructions taped to her back about not letting her leave the unit and returning her if she was lost. Uncle said a patient had wandered away ten days prior and died in the park adjoining the hospital. So like I said, none of us wanted to go, but that is where Nanny was, so we went.

Well let me tell you!! We walked in, she was wide awake, had her teeth in, knew who we were, had eaten, asked for water and held it on her own!! It was AMAZING! Uncle and I were exchanging looks that said things like "wow, holy shit, sweet baby Jesus" and "I wonder if I can reschedule my flight" and "she could get better"!!! Then we realized the truth we'd both learned in our lives.  We pried, LITERALLY PRIED ourselves away from her when it was time to go, broke down sobbing in the elevator, drove to the airport. Aunt and Uncle went to International departures and I went to my Domestic flight. 

Nanny passed days later on August 22nd.

Compassion Sold Separately

My favorite cousin greets me just before midnight when my flight lands. No matter how lovely she is or how many of my favorite relatives insist on living in this city, I hate it. We embark on the long drive to her house. The conversation launches into family relations, it's unavoidable. Speaking of the unavoidable, we inevitably get around to talking about my father. He is in town and the family is fairly pissed at him. 

I don't know how other families are, but in this family if you hear about an incident from more than one person....it's HUGE. If two people mention it, someone is livid and it might not even be one of the two you heard it from. We're an odd bunch, I'm just at the beginning of figuring out how this family functions and I can tell we're odd. 

The story goes like this. My Grandfather is 88, fairly forgetful about daily things, having angina attacks, uses a walker and his wife of 66 years is....I'll get to that....but you can see that he needs a hand with things, right? On top of it all he's in the process of moving from one care facility to another. My father volunteers to transport Grampa from one facility to the other with a few possessions. This will tell you how literal my father is. He picks Grampa up and drops him off. Read: Grampa waits in his room for his son to fetch him....while his son waits in the car out front. Grampa has a cell phone and is worried, but my father refuses to have a cell phone. Grampa finally wanders outside and finds his son, then goes back to his room to get some things (alone) gathers what he can balance on his walker and goes back outside to load it in the car. My father drives Grampa to the other care facility, helps him unload the things onto the walker, gets back in the car and drives off. Grampa walks his carefully balanced load to his room.

Now, I helped Grampa (carried his old war uniform while my Uncle carried the 150-200 lb safe) to his room and let me tell you, it's a LONG WALK. It's a huge facility, built like a labyrinth. Dropping a gent such as my Grampa at the door is rude. I heard about this incident from 5 people. 

Hey good news! By the time I arrived my father was already on the shit list. 

It went downhill for both of us from there. 

Bedrock

I'm flying out tonight. My Grandmother is sick and it's bad. I wasn't going to go, the whole selfish routine of not wanting to see her in this condition. I was going to wait for the services. Seems almost everyone is going this weekend though. People coming from all over the continent. So I leave in 11 hours. 

I'm making the trip to reconnect with my family, not to see my Grandmother. I know that reads poorly. Such is life. She is suffering with dementia along with numerous other illnesses. It will be torture to see her in her condition. She's my Grandmother though...she is worth it. It's likely the last time I will see her...as the medical community doesn't expect that she will see September. You know how lil' ol' ladies are though. She could be around in 2 years....she's stubborn like that. 

Let's get to why I'm here today; my birth father. It's a tangled web. In fact it's one of those tangled webs that if I did attempt to give you a grasp of it....you'd think it fiction. Coles notes anyone? My Mom was a teenage Mom. My father was a jerk. I'm a child of divorce. Easy right? Except then there is this part about fleeing across the country with my Mom because my father wanted to be that crazy fucker on the news that killed his ex-wife. I didn't see him for years and years. 

He and I have opposite personalities. Our relationship doesn't exist. I can make a whole bunch of excuses to defend him, coupled with a bunch more to defend me. Fact is, he's a jerk. There's just no way around that. He's not one of those unemployed, slimy, poverty stricken jerks though. He's a millionaire by marriage, uber clean, retired, cigar smoking fellow. 

My father believed that writing me a letter every 2-5 months, sending me a cheque routinely, and seeing me every few years equaled a relationship. No calls, no real exchange of time. The letters were about as personal as what my lawyer sends me. No wait....my lawyer cares about me more. So when my first child was born I got mouthy. I insisted that he try harder, get to know his grandchild and let the child get to know him. After all, I knew (and still know) almost nothing about my father. I tried for years to get to know him to no avail. I wanted better for my child. So I tried to open the lines of communication and relay that I didn't want money....I wanted a relationship.  

His response was to disown me. Completely disown me, 100%. He did it in writing, documented.

Add in a healthy dose of family drama now. He got to go to his siblings and parents and tell his version. It wasn't hard....I never really knew them at all. I saw them in 1987, then another time in 1998. That's it. So he got to say whatever he wanted. Time passed, people grew up (mostly me). I reconnected with the family 18 months ago. It was profound for all of us. There was laughter, hugging, drinking and tears. Since then the family has gathered around me a lot, VERY few will speak of what happened between my father and I. There are some that still believe him. He will be there when I arrive tonight. So I'm taking all the documents (photocopies) with me. They are impossible to refute. 

I've been to 3 therapists about our letter exchange, all of which are astounded that he wrote three pages of insults and abuse in response to my letter. My letter wasn't flowers and carebears, but it was not abusive or insulting. 

I will not start shit. I'm not stupid though. More than 20 of us hanging out, booze flows and the curious questions start. I've heard stories...lots of stories. It's not unusual for the dirty laundry to be aired over bottles of vodka and Crown Royal. I'm taking the evidence. He stated that it was now "chiseled in bedrock"....I won't hesitate to make him choke on that. I know I'm not over this. I've accepted that I might never be. What I'm excited about is that I love myself now, I respect my life and my choices. I'm a stronger now.....and he has no idea. 

I'm not going to stir shit up. However, I think it's poor planning to leave "check-mate" at home. 

Natural Selection?

I've discovered that I'm probably a horrible person. 

It all started when a coworker of mine bounded to her desk after lunch and blurted "operation bunny rescue complete". I am not typically responsive to blatant bait, so she had to repeat herself prefaced with a "didn't you hear me"? I turn around to face her while she explains that she was standing outside the office building and witnessed a magpie drop a baby bunny from the sky. The magpie then swooped down to peck and claw at the bunny. She is animated and aghast while I am waiting for something shocking. She shooed the magpie away (now I'm starting to be shocked) picked up the baby bunny (wuh?!) and put in under a bush. The bunny couldn't move, just trembled in shock. These events took place on her morning break and she decided at that time that if the baby bunny was still there at lunch she'd take action. 

So here we are, it's after lunch, I already have issues with what she's told me and there's still more. 

She went out and the baby bunny hadn't moved. She got a box, put the baby bunny in the box, I presume she got creature comforts like grass, water...a lounge chair....I dunno. She takes the box to her car, in an uncovered lot on a hot day, and leaves baby bunny in her car for 5 hours. She's sharing this with me waiting for my shock at what she's witnessed and my praise for her efforts. I'm a good government employee though, and I understand the game of political correctness. 

Luckily she knows me. She's someone that I consider a good friend, so once we were away from the office I start mouthing off. Here is my opinion on her animal rescue. 

What the FUCK!? First of all it's nature! People do realize that animals eat fuckin' animals....right? Like please tell me you don't think that magpie or grizzly require the same grain fed politically correct meat that YOU eat!! That baby bunny is food. I don't care if you're a Vegan or a Vegetarian or a Raw Food-ist. Your lifestyle choice is yours and yours alone. You cannot and should not assume that your opinions carry over to the animal kingdom.

You have seen nature programs right? Just so you know, animals killing animals is not restricted to the jungles, forests or savannas. It happens in backyards, alleyways and apparently in front of remote office towers. It's normal and natural. How do people think a magpie will kill something? Humanely? It's got the ability to drop something from extreme height, it's got claws and a beak. So when I think of a magpie killing something it's pretty graphic. The bunny could not and would not move for hours because even the bunny knows it is food! It's body went into shock, which is a built in reaction for prey. It's nature's throw back to humanity. Just so we all feel good about killing nature built "shock" into creatures so that we humans (FYI the ONLY creature on the planet that gives a shit about being "humane"!!) could say "it didn't suffer". Snakes don't google how to kill prey in a humane manner, they do what INSTINCT tells them and they use the resources nature gave them!! Is it wrong for a magpie to eat cute fluffy bunnies? NO, it's called a food chain you idiot. Hearken back to Disney's Lion King to which we ALL sung along. It's the damned circle of life!! You shouldn't ever, EVER interfere with the circle of life.

Now let's flip this a bit. What if the magpie (Pica pica) had a nest full of baby Pica pica somewhere? That baby bunny could have made the difference between life and death. Pica pica have average nests of 6 to 9 eggs. Once those eggs hatch the baby Pica pica cannot fly till about 3 to 4 weeks after hatching. It stands to reason that they need Mom & Dad to bring food. If you take away their meal you could save a baby bunny, but you might be killing 8 to 11 other animals. 

If you know me, you know I presented this logic to my friend. Her response was "it's a MAGPIE"! 

You see this coming right?

How arrogant and stupid. It's now ok to defend the cute fluffy bunny because it's cute and fluffy?! Your opinion is that the magpie is a pest and therefore it's life and the life of it's babies is worth less than a cute fluffy bunny? Really? The magpie was doing what is right in this world. Interfering with the magpie is what is wrong in the world. It's very clear when I look around at humanity that her opinion is rampant. There it is, right out there in society. We rescue bunnies because they are fluffy....even at the expense of other non-fluffy creatures.

When the human race and it's opinions about nature are long gone I hope the magpie is around and I hope it's happily dropping fluffy bunnies from the air and pecking them to death while holding the bunny with it's sharp claws. Why? Because it's RIGHT. It's the way nature gets shit done. It's gross to you because you're stupid. 

Info about Magpies

He and I went on our first vacation together. I've taken my daughters away to places in the past. We've gone as a family to visit other family. There is value in doing those things and I enjoy them immensely. However there is something completely different about going away with the person your love, your best friend, (oddly for the first time in my life, that is ONE person...ha ha ha) and leaving the children at home!

We chose to go to Las Vegas, Nevada. Yeah....not me.....not my kind of vacation at all. In fact, if I focus on the concept of gambling, the tossing away of money whether you can afford it or not, I can almost vomit. Physically vomit, no kidding. Made even worse when you realize that most accounting systems cannot handle the income of Heinz Oldach (owner of a few Canadian casinos) and he's not even a big fish in the global casino market. I'll stop there. I think it's pretty clear how I feel about gambling and casinos. I will resist the urge for a tirade.

He is a big fan of poker. Not solely for gambling, he enjoys the game. Much like he enjoys chess. He has often dreamed of sitting down in a Las Vegas casino and playing poker. In fact, he's dreamed of seeing Las Vegas since he was a child. He's talked about it and it's clear he would enjoy it. When he spoke of Las Vegas he'd get the same look in his eye that I get when I talk about NYC. In fact, NYC is a whole other post, for a different time.

We wanted to get our feet wet in the world of traveling. Neither of us have traveled outside of Canada. We have a number of grand plans for traveling with the children this year. He has never been on an airplane though. Everyone else in the family has been on a plane except for the 6'6" 270lb man. Great, that's all I need is to have his first flight be one going across the pond only to find out he's bad at flying! You can see it, can't you? He'll be the guy that gets claustrophobic, airsick and is running up and down the aisle screaming and vomiting!! Clearly we needed a short trip, a weekend getaway. We had one weekend that would work. Just one; it's in the middle of my extremely busy season at work, the season where NO ONE gets a day off.

I should mention that I have a great smile.....and long eyelashes.

I got a shift change AND a day off.

We booked a flight to Vegas and didn't sleep properly for weeks!

In our research we learned the layout of the Strip so well that we knew which hotels were where. We knew the names of all the hotels as soon as we saw them. We knew where the best buffets were. We knew what attractions we wanted to see. We knew the bus route. We looked at photos, watched videos, read reviews and almost burned our retinas out staring at the monitors. Something odd happened along the way. In researching things to help him live his dream.....it became my dream too. I fell in love with the nostalgia of Las Vegas and the history of it. Some things about it are so campy and ridiculous it's delightful! We stayed at the Flamingo....because it's old school. Ok, it's also pink and we all know that I wouldn't turn down the chance to stay in a room with a hot pink bathroom!

He flies very well, even with the violent turbulence we experienced. We had an amazing time. We did the things we wanted to do. We saw the things we wanted to see. We cried tears of joy. He played poker for 6 hours and didn't lose a dime. He didn't win big, only a few bucks. I found $160 on a casino floor on Freemont street and used it to buy souvenirs for the children. Oh....and I used it at a slot machine and won $540 while he played poker! Surprisingly we didn't indulge in the boozamahol much. He stood on the four corners, with the Las Vegas Blvd sign above his head and thanked me for being his teammate, his lover and his best friend. He thanked me for insisting that he (a recovering workaholic) take a few days off.

My life has changed drastically in the years since I stopped lying to myself. My opinions have changed, I feel more relaxed, I love more and living is easier. I feel like I'm finally growing up. The dreams that are part of my marrow are all coming true. I'm even getting brave enough to dream new dreams.

My first vacation was to the last place I thought I'd want to see. I realize now that when you put your own opinions aside and try seeing things from a different viewpoint not only do you gain understanding (duh, we all knew that) but sometimes you can share a dream.

Michael......I'll keep you in my heart.

I was just reading over some of my posts, especially the ones from when we bought our home. I mention briefly in one of them that the love and support from the wonderful people in our world is important to me. I mentioned Michael with little to no mention of who he is and how important he was to me.

He was my "work Dad". Most women I work with have "work husbands". I don't quite understand it, I find it odd, it's usually a woman that calls herself a "fag hag" or "fruit fly" and the "husband" is one of the homosexual men in the office. I cannot for a second pretend I understand this. My fiance is aware of this practice at my work and one day stated that Michael was like my "work Dad". Michael laughed his usual chuckle and the label stuck. Michael is a classic gray-haired, large bellied, deep laugh lines, music aficionado with a logical brain that never stopped.

His heart stopped beating in January 2010.

I miss him. I think of him often. He is one of those rare people you encounter in life. I am sad that I didn't get enough time with him.

RIP Michael.