The unexpected blog post

I came here today with a post about the pandemic, about being a parent and employee, and the challenges therein.  Then I saw it’s been over a year since I last posted.  The ironic part is today is the one year anniversary of Michael’s funeral.  That box has opened for me and I can grieve him now.  I can be grateful he’s no longer in pain, but I can also miss him. 

One of the gifts he gave me during our friendship with the love of the band “Elbow”.  He introduced me to this wonderful English band.  He actually bought me tickets for Christmas one year as they were in concert in Toronto.  BHE has even bought tickets when they returned a few years back.  The songs are wonderful stories that are beautifully written and fantastically sung.  There is little else that makes me feel closer to him than when I listen to Elbow.  It took about 6 months after the last blog post where I could listen to my favourite tracks without immediately falling apart.  Just knowing what’s happened is helped me heal.  I will always miss him, but the pain is healing because I know.

On the other hand, I still never received confirmation of Michaela.  One of my coworkers was a friend of hers as well (I introduced them).  My coworker lives very near where Michaela did with one of her sisters.  Michaela had two sisters who work as teachers in that area.  About a year ago my coworker noticed that one of Michaela’s sisters would be teaching at her youngest daughter’s school.  After a lot of thought and discussion, she emailed Michaela’s sister to explain that her daughter knew Michaela and would likely recognize the last name and to inquire as to what happened.  It would seem that it is the family trait as she never responded to my coworkers' email.  I wasn’t surprised but I was saddened and Michaela remains in this little box.

One of the bright spots is that during the past year Nicole’s widower found a new love and got married.  Now a lovely woman and a doting father are raising her boys.  I know she’s looking down fondly at all of them.  I can genuinely smile when I see her name pop up on my Facebook memories and I know I was truly blessed to have known and loved such a dear friend.

Tapping out on Cancer

Just a month ago, I lost my dear friend Nicole to bile duct cancer.  For two years, one of my closest friends has been in palliative care for breast cancer.  She tried treatment with zero effect so she chose to live her life to the fullest for the time she had left.  Then, I find out that one of my closest friends has multiple brain tumours and has been given 6-9 months.  

FUCK, stop already.  

Last week, LML’s step-grandmother passed away.  She was old, with failing health and a long life filled with lots of family who love her and will miss her.  That’s the type of death you’re supposed to deal with.  Not the 45-year-old brilliant scientist mother of two boys or a 46-year-old woman who finally learned what it was like to live her authentic self, just to die slowly.  Not the late 50’s man who is finally able to retire, enjoy his children and grandchild and vacation in his villa in Tuscany only to be given less than a year to do so.

FUCK YOU CANCER.

It’s horrible to be angry with a disease.  There’s no face to scream at, no cause to point to and say “well if this hadn’t have happened, these families wouldn’t be so torn apart and devastated”.  I don’t believe in God in the Catholic sense, so there’s no use hating a higher power that “did this” to my loved one.  I feel useless, helpless, angry, devastated, sad and full of sorrow.

Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think.

That’s my mantra now.  I took bereavement leave over LML’s step-grandmother.  I didn’t really morn her, hell I didn’t really know here, but I took the time, to hang with LML, extend our vacation and I don’t feel guilty about that in the slightest.  I’m booking vacations and great dinners so that we can enjoy life to the fullest because you truly never know when your last vacation or epic dinner will be your last.

• Tell people you love them
• Be kind to people
• Smile
• Hug your children
• Be grateful for what you have and humble about it.
• Live every day to the fullest.

Not ready yet to say goodbye

Cancer sucks.

I don’t know a single person whose life hasn’t been touched by cancer.  I lost my beloved grandmother at the age of 11 to stomach cancer.   Two years ago one of my best friends was diagnosed with Breast Cancer.  Unfortunately for her (and all of us who love her) the treatments didn’t work and she’s been end stage for about a year.  It’s a long time to die.

A year ago, one of my closes “mom friends” was diagnosed with bile-duct cancer.  She’s a beautiful, brilliant, happy woman.  My age, her boys close in age to my boys.  A super nerd (just like me) and a loving wife.  We had a lot in common and I considered her among my closest friends.  When she was diagnosed I sent positive vibes out into the universe for her to kick cancers ass!  I followed her journey on a cancer website, as she updated the successes and failures of her journey. 

Then, about 2 weeks ago, her husband updates her blog that the latest treatment didn’t work and she was coming to the end of her journey.  I was stunned, saddened, horrified, angry, grief-stricken.  But she’s so young!  But how will her boys and her husband go on without that incredibly bright light in their family?  We didn’t know if she had days or weeks, but he told us it wouldn’t be long after that.  Three days after finding out, she passed away peacefully in her husband’s arms.  I could almost feel a star go out, the world just became a bit dimmer without her brilliance in it.

The village that I knew her from, was a group of working mothers from all over Canada and the USA.  It had shrunk over time, but there’s still a closeness and a bond with this group.  We looked to each other for support to get through this.  I had suggested that we do a memory book of our best memories of her and send it to her husband and children.  Let them know how much she meant to so many people, how far her reach went.  I offered to collect the information and put it all together.  It’s been amazingly bittersweet.  In the beginning, every new story, every new picture, every old video sent me into another wave of tears and grief, but as I process through it, it’s making me smile.  Reminding me of how incredibly lucky I was to know and love this woman (and by extension her family as well).  Her husband was kind enough to come to our private group and offer his FaceBook profile to friend requests so we could continue watching her boys grow.  He’s a wonderful man and I can see why she loved him so much.

Remember, life is short and precious.  Enjoy every moment because it’s later than you think.   Tell the people you love how much they mean to you.  Remember the joys, forget the insults.  It’s not a dress rehearsal, this is the big show and go knock it out of the park!