I had such a lovely day yesterday.  I made brownies and did the laundry while the big guy vacuumed.  The bathrooms got cleaned and then I headed out to visit a friend.  I stopped to buy her a lovely orchid and some yummy treats from a local bakery.  My girlfriend who was supposed to die in February but outlived her stay in a regular hospital bed and has been transferred to palliative care.  I went to see her.  She looked lovely.  Her hair is growing back in, short and gray.  She had her makeup and jewelry on and I helped her get dressed.  We visited for awhile and I got to meet her sister and niece.  Then we made arrangements for more visits.

When I got home I prepped for supper.  The big guy's daughter and son in law, along with our beautiful granddaughter, were coming for supper.  I even had enough time to go pick up a new phone.  We had a lovely evening, visiting, eating and marveling at our granddaughter.  The cat was not quite so enamored by the baby, although the baby loved the cat. 

When they left, taking the last bit of brownies home with them I told the big guy what a wonderful day I'd had.  It was nothing special, it was just nice.  I got to rock and hold and chat with my granddaughter.  I saw my friend.  I fed those I love. 

I'm getting used to being called nana.  The first time the big guy referred to me as nana, I looked around for my mum.  I still miss her sometimes.  She would have loved to have a new baby in the family.  She loved babies and children.  Her first job was as a nanny and then she took care of her children and then her grandchildren for the rest of her life.  She loved having her family all together and feeding them.  I guess the apple doesn't fall from the tree. 

The face I love.

I think this photo was taken eight years ago which would have made Katie fourteen.  She looks younger than that to me.  I can't remember where the black eye and fat lip came from;  there have been more than a few injuries over the years.  If you look closely you'll notice that a part of her one front tooth is missing.  That happened when she was at a horrible school for three nightmarish months.  Her aide, a truly stupid and incompetent woman, put somebody's else pants on Katie that were far too long and Katie fell and smashed her front teeth.  Both front teeth are now dead and she had to have two root canals which meant two general anesthetics.  This was the only awful aide Katie ever had in school.  The woman tied Katie's hands behind her back one day to feed Katie lunch and told me about it!  She thought it was a good idea.  WTF!  And the woman was not fired even after I complained to the principal.  That's when we found a new school for Katie with a wonderful program that allowed her to be herself. 

I like this photo better.  Same age, no bruises.  Katie's on the train at Fort Edmonton;  one of her favorite places on earth.  And she doesn't have that anxious look on her face that is now often the norm for her.  If I could erase Katie's anxiety I would.  It started with puberty and has not abated.  In fact it seems to get worse each year. 

I remember when Katie was a baby I tried to develop a formula that would tell me what Katie's mental age would be when she grew up.  I tracked her developmental delays and made elaborate formulas because I wanted to know what the future would hold.  All for naught.  I have a twenty-two year old daughter who can't talk but who never stops signing.  She has an amazing memory and sense of direction, as well as a fully developed sense of humor.  She can't tie her shoes or understand abstract concepts but she understands people.  She can't talk but everyone knows her name.  One year we were in Sylvan Lake for a holiday, about a hundred miles south of here, and a woman on the beach knew Katie by name. 

I've slowly come to the realization that I have no idea what life or the future will bring.  I see that everyday at work.  People are living their lives, working, fighting, laughing, loving and then boom, they have cancer.  Which reminds me of the poem by Robbie Burns, "To A Mouse". 

But little Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!

I'm older now and I realize I have virtually no idea what will happen in life except that it will end in death which is freeing in a way.  I don't have to fight so hard to make happen what I want to happen.  I can give up control and expectations, a little;  I'm not that wise yet.  But ever so gradually I'm learning to let go.  Maybe that's what life is for, to beat the expectations out of us so that we can learn to just be.

Shit my ex-husband said.

When Katie was a month old and we'd just got past the, "Your daughter could be blind" news from the ophthalmologist, we were driving to a friend's house.  All three kids were in the car,Katie a month old, my middle daughter would have been nineteen months old and my son was eight years old.  My husband turns to me and says, "I only ever wanted two kids."

One night many years later I was sitting at my computer in the family room trying really hard to not pay attention to my very drunk husband, he staggered over to me and leans over me to say, "The only reason I drink this much is because I can't stand being here!"

There was more and apparently it still bothers me.  February is when things finally hit rock bottom for our us.  February is when both of my parents died.  This past February is when we kept taking Katie to emergency.  I feel drained right now between memories and the dregs of flu still plugging my sinuses.  I imagine little dead viruses scattered throughout my sinuses, eaten by white cells, waiting to be flushed, sneezed and coughed out by me.  Maybe that's how it is with memories too, waiting there inside my brain to be flushed out. 

Not all of our marriage was bad, although the end was.  Neither one of us are bad people but I ended up labeled as the bad one, by him at least, because I left;  I asked for a divorce.  I don't think he ever thought I would leave.  He convinced me that I was crazy, that I couldn't manage money, that I couldn't manage without him. 

A good friend of mine died in 2009.  She was a nurse that I worked with.  She was diagnosed with cancer and dead within three months.  She was also only a few years older than me.  It was a huge shock and I realized then that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life, however long that was, with someone who didn't like me.  It was the end for me. 

I was a chronic disappointment to my husband.  It's hard living like that, feeling that weight on you everyday.  It broke me and sadly those feelings linger on to this day, although they usually only bother me when I'm feeling down.  Many years ago, I was nineteen I think, I fainted and bashed my face quite badly.  I have a scar in my eyebrow from that faint.  For years it bothered me and then less and less.  Sometimes though I can still feel it, usually when I'm tired, a faint ache in my right eyebrow, a reminder of an old wound. 

And that's how it is with my ex-husband and my marriage.  A wound that still aches at times, mostly when I'm tired or run down, less and less each year. 

I'm sick.  I can't decide if I have a horrible cold or the flu.  It's probably the flu but I can't tell if I have a fever or not because of the hot flashes.  I'll live but it does amaze me how such a small thing can have such a huge impact. 

I didn't get the job I interviewed for.  I was told I was too emotional, hence the last post.  Turns out the doc who was in on the interview didn't like the fact that I stood up to another doc and advocated for my patient.  Too bad for him.  I am not going to quit advocating for my patients.  So I will be remaining where I am.

Katie was finally back to her old self last Sunday when we went to Special Olympics Bowling.  She has her twinkle back.  She spent a lot of time in emergency over the past month and I'm hoping things will be boring for awhile.

I had a dream about my friend Shirley.  I was in my old house and I went downstairs into the family room.  There were a lot of people there and Shirley was sitting on the couch.  She looked right at me and said, "You can see me, can't you?'.  She was a ghost but I could see her and she looked wonderful, like her old self except she let her hair stay gray.  She was laughing and smiling and complaining about her hair cut.  It was so wonderful to see her, to know that she was okay.

I'm looking for a house to buy but it's frustrating.  I imagine as the weather warms and the economy gets worse, there will be more homes available in my price range.  I am itching to get my hands dirty in a garden.  It will happen;  I just need to be patient, not my strong suit. 

“Compassion is not religious business, it is human business, it is not luxury, it is essential for our own peace and mental stability, it is essential for human survival.”

- Dalai Lama XIV

I'm one of those people that displays every single thought and emotion on my face.  I don't know how not to do that.  I watch other people say one thing and do another.  I watch people backstab and lie.  I watch people get hurt or angry and yet nothing or very little shows on their faces.  Often I feel naked in the world. 

When I'm around intense people, I feel it.  I feel something inside of myself wind tighter.  When things are hectic at work I feel like a whirling dervish.  I become faster but also harder, more abrupt.  Niceties face away.  I can feel this in myself but don't know how to stop it.  Angry people scare me.  I can feel their anger reach through my skin, my body tenses and I get scared and then I get angry back.  Calm people soothe me.  The big guy is calm although sometimes I can feel a deep anger within him and it scares me.  My own anger scares me as well, afraid of what I might do.

Loud noises make me tense.  Too many people.  Too much to do.  Something winds tighter.  I forget that I can let go.  Walking is how I let it go.  Slowly the thing unwinds, loosens, relaxes.  My brain slows down.  It's strange that walking faster slows my brain but that is how is works.  Moving my body eases my brain. 

Strong emotions make me cry.  Sometimes I feel ashamed of crying.  I want to yell at people that I have no control over what comes out of my tear ducts.  Other people are uncomfortable with tears.  It's seen as a weakness or a defect. 

So am I an emotional wreck or an empath?

In the past two weeks Katie has been to emergency three times.  I don't like emergency rooms.  In the last year of my mum's life I spent way too much time in emergency rooms.  In the last three weeks of mum's life we went to emergency half a dozen times I think.  That was two years ago and in my mind the two were getting mixed together.  Katie, Joseph (her caregiver) and I spent all day in emergency on Monday, waiting to see a doctor, waiting for test results, waiting for a room so the doctor could cut into the abscess on Katie's wrist.  The next morning when I checked on Katie her hand was worse, swollen and more painful, so back to emergency.  She's now on IV antibiotics and doing well.  I am so thankful.

I'm scared my daughter will die.  I'm even more scared that her death will be a relief.  Or I'm scared that my heart will be so badly broken by her death that I will never recover.  These are the thoughts I've been having this past week. 

There's more I want to write but I'm worn out.  My second friend with cancer, also a Shirley, is now in the hospital dying.  I wrote her husband an email this evening telling him much I enjoyed working with Shirley. She is a kind, gentle soul with a wonderful sense of humor.  I saw her last week at the Cross when she came in for a scan.  I gave her a hug and I still find it impossible to believe that she has only days left. 

I'm tired of winter.  Tired of cancer and death.  Tired of illness and doctors.  Just tired. 

Reasons why I want to marry the big guy.

I love him.
I like him.
He makes me laugh. 
He farts in bed when I'm sad, just to make me laugh.
He holds me when I cry.
He hugs me every single morning and anytime of the day after that.  He is an awesome hugger.
He's smart and interesting and a very deep thinker.
He's logical.
He's stubborn, as stubborn as me.
He's patient.
He's kind and compassionate.
He's all bark and no bite.
I know he will always have my back.
I like living with him, working with him and traveling with him.
He likes my cooking.
The look on his face when his granddaughter sits in his lap.
Watching him hold hands with the cat.
Watching him play tag with the cat.
His big heart.
His old soul.
His bruised and battered heart.
That gentle, scared part of him that he protects so fiercely but which he lets me see.
He worries about me.
I worry about him.
His laugh.
I trust him to tell me the truth, even when I don't like it.
I trust him with my heart.
He accepts me as I am.