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Dad and Uncle Bernard
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Wade, Ceinwen, Nova and me
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Dad and me
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Mom’s last day
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Nova at Grandma Fern’s funeral
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| Gardening gloves |
Laid back
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With Fay
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Oliver, Nova and Antonia
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| My funny hat |
My funny face
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Our little sand crab
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| October 31, 2003 We had a really bad night with Nova last night. I imagine it’s the jet lag, and I suppose I was naive to think that just because she’d slept through on the first night that her sleeping patterns would have returned to normal. She woke up just as we were going to bed a 11pm, insisting she didn’t want to sleep any more. We settled her in bed with a beaker of milk and a Tellytubbies video, but an hour later she was as wide awake as ever. We gave her a dose of cough syrup and a snack, but it took two more hours before I was able to settle her back in her own bed. Dave came round for a visit after breakfast and spent the morning with us. We put together a Halloween costume for Nova. She was a gypsy fortune teller, with her denim peasant skirt, black tights, ankle boots, navy velvet trimmed cardie, masses of bead necklaces, a shawl, and a kerchief on her head. She was pretty pleased with the result, and didn’t take it off the whole day. Adam arranged for me to have a massage in the village. The woman did a half hour consultation and health check before we started, then I had an hour’s therapeutic massage. It was very relaxing and I fell asleep and one point. I woke up wondering where I was, and what the heck Adam was doing, before I remembered… Nova and I spent the rest of the afternoon having a little Halloween party with Jemima and Ruby. They’d put up decorations and Jemima had lots of little snacks for the girls. We made a couple of popcorn balls as well. The kids liked them alright, although they preferred the marshmallows. At 6pm, we set off for a bit of trick-or-treating. We tried a couple of houses near Jemima’s that have kids, then went to Pasc’s and Phyllis’s before packing it in. Adam gave Nova her bath, and I carved our jack-o-lantern and set it up outside. We only got a couple of kids though — it’s half term this week, and I guess a lot of the local families with kids have taken the opportunity to go on holiday. Not that we ever get more than seven or eight anyway… It’s not really an English thing, more of an American import, and some people are a bit snobbish about that… Nova woke again at about 9:30, wanting to get up. I think when we settle her for the night, her body thinks it’s going down for a nap, and just switches on again after a couple of hours. I settled her on the couch and she watched her Jungle Book video. She was still pretty perky after it ended, so I lay down with her in our bed and we fell asleep together… |
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| October 30, 2003 I woke up at 5:00am feeling guilty because I had taken my mother’s things. It must have been something from my dream but I don’t remember it… I’d offered to drive John and Bradley to Holloway Road tube because apparently the Northern Line is out of commission (a train ran into a wall at Camden a couple of weeks ago). I had to wake Nova up at 7:45 so she could come with us. Nova and I had a quiet day home together. She’s really happy to see all her toys and books and videos and flitted from one thing to the next like a hummingbird. I just lay on the couch watching her. In the afternoon, Jemima came round for a cup of tea and to see if I needed anything from the store. I asked her to pick up some broccoli, and made grilled salmon, rice and broccoli for dinner. |
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| October 29, 2003 Nova slept the whole flight. No, that’s not a typo… Nova slept the whole flight. She didn’t sleep quietly. She rolled and flailed and moaned and actually stood up and tried to sleepwalk at one point, but she never opened her eyes. Not even when they decided it was “morning” (2am our time) and turned on the lights. Not even when the breakfast trolleys rattled down the aisles. I had to wake her for the final descent. She was sleepy and cooperative, and walked all the way to the immigration hall carrying her meggy and little dolly. Heathrow always looks so sordid after a trip to Canada (or just about anywhere). The roof was leaking in a number of places through the missing ceiling tiles, and the aisle was strewn with buckets like an obstacle course. There were soggy newspapers underfoot, and everyone just looked so miserable. I wasted ten minutes sitting by a carousel marked Vancouver before remembering that we’d flown in from Calgary. Adam had arranged for Doron to meet us, as he’s in Germany on business today. I changed Nova’s nappy before we set off, and gave her a drink and a corn cracker, and we didn’t hear a peep out of her the whole journey. We hadn’t been home five minutes before John and Bradley turned up. They’ve been in Tuscany for the last couple of weeks. We spent a very relaxing afternoon talking drinking wine, and watching Nova reacquaint herself with her toys. I made Nova a bowl of pesto pasta for dinner, and at 7pm she said her goodnights. I tucked her in with about 15 stuffed animals — “Want Tigger! Want Peter Rabbit!” etc — and that was that. I phoned dad to tell him we’d got home alright. When I asked him what he’d had for dinner last night, he confessed to dining on cookies and beer. I ordered us a big Indian meal from the Parsi. We were just finishing up when Adam got home. We had a couple more drinks together, then called it a night about 11:30. |
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| October 28, 2003 I had quite a long, drawn out morning packing with Nova’s “help”. For every two things I put in, she took one thing out. “Where’s Po? Want it, Po. Po-ooooh! Where are you? Nova want to cuddle you!” etc. This is why I always try to pack when she’s asleep… The sky looked pretty threatening, as we drove out to the airport. When I was checking in the clerk said, “Do you have a letter from the father allowing you to travel with this child?” They’d given me grief about this when I arrived in Vancouver, but I had so many other things to think about it, I’d forgotten all about it. Apparently, I am no longer allowed to fly with my own child, unless I have a letter from Adam giving his consent. “It’s to prevent child abductions in custody disputes,” the clerk said helpfully. I asked her why — if it is now policy to harrass parents travelling solo with their children for permission notes, didn’t they mention this to me when I booked our tickets. I also pointed that if was planning to leave the country without my husband’s consent, it would take me all of five minutes to cook up a suitable letter. And what if the father is dead? What if he’s never been on the scene? What a pile of interfering, time-wasting, politically-correct bullshit… It made me sad to say goodbye to dad. I didn’t like to think of him going back home on his own, and I got a bit tearful as we were saying our farewells. However, Nova was being such a little pest — running around like a headless chicken, getting her arms soaked fishing coins out of the fountain, stealing toys from the gift shop etc — that I finally had to bundle her up and march through departures. The Kelowna bag checking people were as thorough as ever. The woman ran my purse through three times in different positions, then went through it item by item. It was the little bag of jewellery and cosmetics that seemed to have caught her attention, and she gave it a thorough poking through. Any terrorist foolish enough to plan an attack on a Kelowna flight would soon see the error of her ways… My concerns about flying conditions were confirmed the minute they closed the airplane doors. “It’s going to be a wild ride today, folks,” the air hostess said brightly, “so don’t bother unfastening those seatbelts. We bucked and bounced all the way here, and things are even worse up there now!” She continued, “It’s far too turbulent to have a trolley service, so I’ll be coming around with individual drinks on a tray.” Needless to say, it was a pretty turbulent flight. Although actually, they’d painted such a terrible picture before we took off, that the actual flight wasn’t as bad as my expectations. There wasn’t much to see, as it was pretty cloudy. As we started our descent into Calgary, we entered a big black cloud. I kept thinking we’d come out the bottom, but there was a big bump and there we were on the ground. It was only four in the afternoon, but the weather was so bad it felt like dusk. We had a four hour stopover in Calgary airport. It was a little longer than I would have liked, but actually when you’re travelling with kids, stopovers are no bad thing. It gives them a chance to run around and have a play, and you can do nappy changes, and give them a feed, and distract them with things from the shops. The water bottle in our hand luggage had rattled open somehow, and I spent about twenty minutes in the baby change room, wiping down our bag and drying Nova’s change of clothes at the hand dryer. After that we went on to the play area, and Nova spent a couple of hours happily playing with lego, while I actually… READ A MAGAZINE… I enticed her out of the play area with the promise of something to eat. We went through customs, and hiked to our gate. Just as we arrived, a big hailstorm started up, and Nova was fascinated. She pressed her nose against the glass and happily watched as hailstones the size of cherries pelted our plane. I phoned dad with the last of my Canadian change, then joined Nova on the floor of the little kiddie plastic log cabin for a supper of cheese and summer sausage and olives and bagel. We boarded the plane on schedule, where I discovered we’d been assigned to the two non-reclining seats just in front of the toilets. There was a teenage boy sitting in the block of four across the aisle. When it became apparent that he was going to have the row to himself, I told him firmly that it would be best if we changed seats. I’m definitely getting more assertive in my middle age… The hail had turned to snow by this point, and the plane was coated in a thick fluffy blanket. “Well, tonight’s the first outing for our de-icing crew,” the pilot said. “It should take them about ten minutes, then we’ll be on our way!” In fact it took more like forty-five minutes, but it’s the sort of thing you have to do right. Nova sat quietly belted in her seat the whole time, playing with her new doll, Mountie Girl — complete with a tight little belted red tunic and maple leaf spangled mini skirt. Within ten minutes of take off, she was zonked out across a couple of empty seats. I’d wrapped her up in a blanket and padded her round with cushions and she looked pretty cozy. For the first time since I’ve started travelling with her, I was able to accept the complementary newspaper, have a pre-dinner drink, order coffee and wine with my meal, and watch a bit of the movie. Unfortunately they were showing “Bruce Almighty” with Jim Carrey and I soon lost interest. I couldn’t really sleep myself, not least because Nova was thrashing about so much she would have flung herself onto the floor a dozen times if I hadn’t been there to catch her. Also I would have felt a bit guilty getting too comfortable with the teenage boy across the aisle pretzeling himself into a series of uncomfortable positions in our rigid little two seater. “That could have been us,” I thought contentedly… |
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| October 27, 2003 It’s my last day in Kelowna… Drove out to Kurt and Irene Lauritson’s for morning coffee. She is a terrific baker, and there were delicious cakes and squares to accompany the coffee. She’d put out a little dish with six arrowroot biscuits for Nova, who polished them all off in about 5 minutes flat. She was pretty well behaved for a half an hour or so, before she started clamouring to go outside. They have a pool in their backyard, and as soon as we stepped out the patio doors, Nova spied the pool slide. There was no restraining her — she was round that pool in seconds, and half way up the ladder. As she reached the top I plucked her off and set her at the bottom again, and she’d happily start up all over again. She definitely worked off her dish of arrowroots, which is more than I can say for myself… I made us egg muffins for lunch, then we set off for an afternoon of errands: getting copies of old photos made at Mailbox Etc (including a beautiful photo of Fern and Greg that I’m going to frame for him), banking, the bookstore, and Michaels — a new craft superstore that has recently opened — to buy birds for the Christmas tree. Both dad and I thought that mom would have loved that store: “I couldn’t have got her out of there until she’d looked at every single thing,” he said. Stopped of for dinner at the White Spot. Dad and I had a burger and fries, with a pint of Okanagan Springs, and Nova had the burger pirate pack with broccoli, and a little tub of chocolate ice cream. |
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| October 26, 2003 Gave the fridge a good tidying this morning — yet another way I’m turning into my mother… Apparently Wendy thinks I should run the marathon with her. Greg insisted that I’d never be interested, and they bet on it. Actually I would be interested. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, and the only reservation I have about committing to it now, is the incompatibility with my other aim of getting pregnant. You can’t put your life on hold in the expectation that you’re going to get pregnant though… “Hey, how about a doughnut!” said Nova, about 25 minutes after breakfast. And here I was hoping that her good eating habits would rub off on Ceinwen. I should have known it would work the other way round…;-) Drove to Tim Horton’s to pick up coffees and a honey dip for Nova, then headed up Knox Mountain to the playground. Nova had a great time playing with a little kid called Carter, while Dad and I drank our coffees. The slides were wet and didn’t work very well. Even after she’d wiped them dry with her butt, her damp jeans were preventing her from sliding very effectively. I turned her jeans back to front, which seemed to help a bit. Made a big pot of squash soup for dinner. Dad went off to a turkey shoot, promising to bring home the bacon (or turkey or actually not turkey, but porkchops). In the event, he didn’t win anything, so we ate our soup with the last of Aaron’s smoked salmon. I froze the rest of the soup for dad to have later… I’ve decided to put together a cookbook of family recipes. I’ve asked everyone which recipes they remember most fondly from our childhood and meals together, and have gone through mom’s index cards and picked out those I could find. It’s a pretty long list — over a hundred recipes so far, and I imagine we’ll think of more… |
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| October 25, 2003 David and Ceinwen left first thing. They are going to stop in Calgary overnight, and then push onto Regina on Sunday. And then there were three… Wendy phoned this morning. Her sister Gail has suggested that they run the Victoria marathon together next October and she’s quite excited about the idea. I think she should go for it…. Now that everyone’s gone, it’s time to for me to establish some more sensible eating habits. Ed, Nova and I had a sandwich for lunch… Ran some errands in the afternoon: Costco to pick up film, Superstore to buy some fleecy pajamas for Nova and some Halloween chocolate bars for dad (I mean for the trick-or-treaters!), Walmart for shotgun shells, Extra Foods for groceries, Home Hardware for taps, Buckerfields for birdseed. Dad’s back seems to be fine now — he hefted a fifty pound sack of birdseed out of the shop and into the back of the van without much trouble. Dad and I had the double Caesar dinner — a spicy bloody Caesar followed by a Caesar salad — and watched the New York Yankees lose the World Series. Later on, I prepped a big sack of prunes that dad had in the fridge and he cooked up a dozen jars of prune jam. |
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| October 24, 2003 “The authority of a parent does not come from a dignity standing on its own feet, but from the help they are able to give their children.” Maria Montessori, The Absorbent Mind. That quote sums up mom’s approach to a tee… When I started getting Nova ready for the day’s outing, she started crying, “Fountain! Fountain!” and flapping her hands the way she does when she’s excited. I had no idea what she was going on about… Our first stop was Cecil’s Perogies, a little Ukrainian cafe a few blocks from mom and dad’s that does borscht and perogies. Nova set up a rumpus the minute we were inside: “No lunch any more! Want fountain!” and so on. As always, she was pacified by the sight of food, and tucked away an 8″ kielbasa, large hunk of cheese bread, and glass of milk, before starting up about fountains again. We were back in the car and on the way to Joe Rich before I realised what she was on about. She was talking about the playground on Knox Mountain. There wasn’t any way to fit it in today, but we did have something nice planned… Dad’s first cousin Jimmy Weddell is a cattle rancher. The family has a huge spread out at Joe Rich. While Dad visited with Jimmy and his wife Gert, our cousin Cam took Ceinwen for a horseback ride. She was very enthusiastic, and was up in the saddle like a shot. Nova wasn’t so sure about the idea. She sat up on the horse long enough to have her picture taken, but that was about it… Due to popular demand, I cooked up another batch of moose madras when we got home.It was even better this time. I used moose steak, squash and peas, along with the madras paste and home-canned tomatoes. More dietary wisdom from Ceinwen: apparently she has two stomachs — one for food she doesn’t like, and one for food she does. Needless to say, one stomach is much bigger than the other. It makes sense actually, and could explain why people are always able to find room for dessert (or frozen baking) no matter how much dinner they eat… |
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| October 23, 2003 David and I took the girls to the playground at the top of Knox Mountain this morning. There were swings, a teetertotter, ladders, climbing frame, fireman’s pole, and three slides, including a twisty one. Nova set off down the twisty slide innocently enough, but it was more than she’d bargained for. She got turned round in one of the curves, and came shooting off ass-backward and straight into David’s arms, her eyes like saucers and her mouth in a perfect O of shock. She couldn’t be induced to try it again for love or money, and edged away mumbling “Nova’s very, very brave” and whenever I suggested it. We had a little hike round the top viewpoints afterward, then headed down again for lunch: clam chowder and leftover lasagne. I think I may have mentioned that I’m eating far too much — I have to undo my jeans after every meal these days. In the afternoon Josanne came by and took me shopping. We went to the Superstore, which made me a bit emotional, because it was something I always did with mom. After a couple more stops, we headed back to Josanne’s place for a cup of tea. She gave me a little furry purse for Nova (I’d been looking for something similar to Tinky Winky’s bag without success). I borrowed her copy of Maria Montessori’s “An Absorbent Mind”. Mom was always asking me if I’d read it. (She was like that — once she got something in her mind, she was like a terrier. She’d mention and mention it… I’d always meant to read it, but it’s out of print, and I never got round to tracking down a copy.) I could tell that Josanne’s was was a much loved copy, full of annotations and clippings. I’ll dip into it before I go, and if I find it interesting, I’ll buy a second-hand copy over the Internet when I get back to England. Ed made sausages, potatoes, squash and chard for dinner this evening. I didn’t get any sausages. There were supposed to be two each, but Nova had scarfed both of hers by the time I picked up my fork, and set up a clamour for mine as well. Ed forfeited one of his to me, and when Nova started campaigning for that as well, I said, “You’ve already had four sausages, Nova.” “Want five!” she replied. I don’t know if it was sausage deprivation that triggered it, but I joined David on a ridiculous evening’s snacking binge that covered frozen baking, chips and salsa, beer, Lay’s potato chips, cookies, and tumblers of Coke… This has really got to stop… |
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| October 22, 2003 “We have to get our own Tim Hortons coffee now,” David griped, tongue in cheek, this morning before heading off to fill our order… I certainly need my coffee these days. I’m still not sleeping properly. It’s been over a month since I’ve had more than 5 hours sleep at night. We received a beautiful flower arrangement from “the rest of the Carmichaels” this morning — they’ve done so much already. You really appreciate people’s gestures at a time like this: the cards and letters and phone calls and kind words, the considerable effort dozens of people made to travel to Kelowna to pay their respects. It’s comforting to think that so many people cared about mom. At a time like this, it’s almost like all your relationships are given a test. It’s kind of petty, but I’ve also noticed where a couple of people I’d have expected to hear from haven’t been in touch… It’s been funny that way — you’re coping with the huge gaping hole left in your life by the death of your mother, and also worrying about sandwich numbers (not like a wedding where you know how many people are coming), and wondering why so-and-so hasn’t been in touch. David and I spent the morning writing thank-yous to those people who’d sent flowers or contributed in some way, and letters notifying mom’s English cousins of her death. (More shades of mom: within a day or two of Christmas or your birthday, she’d be after you to write thank-you cards to anyone who sent a present.) Afterwards we put in a couple of hours of yard work, raking leaves. We collected several big bags, but there are so many still on the trees that you almost wonder if it’s worth it… David made a big pot of clam chowder for dinner, and I ate two bowls with a great stack of soda crackers. This in no way prevented me from an assault on the baking later in the evening. I’ve packed the leftovers into containers and frozen it, but that’s no deterrent in our family. I ate so much frozen Christmas baking as a kid that I actually prefer shortbread that way… |
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| October 21, 2003 Happy birthday mom — you would have been 76 today… Wade, Gale and Liam came round to say goodbye before heading off. It’s been a pleasure getting to meet little Liam. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more placid baby. You could honestly forget he was in the room with you for an hour at a time. He just sits there, looking at things and gurgling happily. Apparently he’s a dream to travel with as well… Adam’s flight was scheduled to leave in the afternoon. We all headed up to the airport, and once he was checked in there was time for a quick lunch in the cafe before they called his flight. And then there were five… There were birthday flowers for mom from Margo and Aaron waiting on the front steps when we returned, which was sweet of them. Speaking of Margo, dad’s back a little better, so maybe the treatment helped after all…;- After the girls were fed and Nova was down for the night, we cooked a birthday dinner in mom’s honour. We breaded some oysters and panfried them the way she used to, and served them with a Caesar salad, and bottle of champagne. We used the good dishes and crystal champagne flutes, and ate by candlelight, and it felt like we were close to her and it felt more comforting than sad… |
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| October 20, 2003 On my last visit to Kelowna in February 2002, Mom had gone through all her jewellery with me. She said that she wanted to give each of her daughter-in-laws a nice piece, and the rest was mine. I know she’d hoped to do it at a family gathering, but it just hadn’t happened, so I did it on her behalf. I gave great-grandma Shelley’s cameos and mom’s good pearls to Wendy, a gold ring with three aquamarines to David to keep for Ceinwen, and a beautiful opal ring to Gale. The locket Herb gave mom, with a little photo of Greg and a locket of his hair inside, was for Greg. I gave Lynette a nice brooch, because even they are splitting up, I think that’s what mom would have done. I set aside mom’s thunderbird pendant to send to Siobhan Tarry. Mom and Siobhan taught together out at Takla, and became very good friends, and I thought Siobhan might appreciate it. Greg and Wendy set off soon after… and then there were nine. I organised lunch for everyone: a vegetable-barley soup I’d made from boiling up the roast bone, and as I was slicing up tomatoes and cheese, and arranging buns in a dish, I felt like I was turning into mom, doing all these little jobs just they way she would have done. She’d have been smiling down from above, if she’d seen me rearranging those platter leftovers on Saturday. My soup wasn’t anywhere near as good as hers though… Adam, Wade, Gale and I headed off for another shopping expedition while David stayed home with the two little girls. We needed to buy an another bag so that Adam could take home some Hawaiian dresses mom had wanted me to have, and a nice coat of Grandma’s that I wanted. I was struggling a bit today — everything I saw reminded me of mom. Coming out of Winners, I saw the A&W, and thought of how we’d go for hamburgers in the car, and they’d thread that long tray through the window. It made me cry remembering it. “Just look somewhere else,” I thought. And there was the Dairy Queen, and memories of how we’d all pile in the car and go for a soft dipped ice cream cone. I don’t know if England be better or worse… I won’t be surrounded by things that trigger memories, but I won’t be surrounded by home either… In the late afternoon we drove over to Wade and Gale’s hotel — the Best Western on Harvey — so the kids could go swimming. David, Adam and Wade went in with their respective charges, while Ed, Gale and I stood on the side taking photos. The kids loved it, and an instant new Blue Cow story — Blue Cow Swimming Pool — was spawned. Afterward, we headed over to Lord Chumley’s for dinner. Everyone ordered the all-you-can-eat fish and chips except for me. I find a regular order of fish and chips is more than enough to eat, even sharing with Nova. Even so, I changed straight into my pajamas and collapsed on the couch when we got home. Fish and chips has that effect on me… We gave Gale her birthday present — a set of diamond-shaped white plates that would be nice for serving appetisers or desserts. |
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| October 19, 2003 When we got up with Nova at 7:30am there was Uncle Bernard sitting at the table. We had a bowl of cereal together before Ed drove him to the Greyhound. Bernard said that he’d thought of reciting the prayer of St Francis of Assisi at the service, but didn’t know if it would be appropriate. When I said I didn’t know it, he recited it from memory over his bowl of Bran Buds. Bernard was the first of several people to say that they had thought of saying something but didn’t for whatever reason, and then shared it with you later. Margo and Aaron dropped round to say goodbye before they headed home, and Peter wasn’t far behind them. Wendy called in for the Tim Horton’s coffee order before coming over, but there was no sign of Greg or the boys until after lunch… Josanne called to share the comments she’d had from others who’d said what a very special service it had been. (It sounds like she’s been lined up for some future business as well…) Ed gave each of mom’s children and grandchildren $1000 from her safety deposit box. I’ll put Nova’s in her savings account. I’d like to spend mine on something significant. I’ll have to have a think about it. After lunch, Greg and Wendy drove Landyn to the airport, and I went shopping at Orchard Park with Gale. I wasn’t hungover, but I was certainly low energy, and after an hour’s shopping and came home for a nap. When I woke up Patty and her friend Cathy were sitting in the sunroom with Ed and Adam having a glass of wine. Tonight’s dinner was a delicious lasgne, courtesy of Paul Carmichael –the long-awaited casserole at last! When I mentioned that I’d meant to buy some lettuce for a salad, Patty’s friend Cathy said, “Oh, I’ve got one in the car,” and returned with a beautiful tossed green salad and little jar of homemade balsamic salad dressing… The things some people carry around with them…;-) Drew left after dinner. He’s in the middle of his midterms at NAIT, and has a couple of exams tomorrow. The rest of us settled down to watch a Johnny Cash tribute show on A&E. |
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| October 18, 2003 The day started with Ed going up to the Greyhound station to pick up his older brother Bernard who’d taken the overnight bus from Edmonton. It was good to see him — it’s been years. He looks so much like dad, although he looks even more like Grandpa Dick. More than a physical ressemblance, it’s the expressions and gestures that are so similar, which is quite something given how little they’ve seen of each other in the last 40 years. He was even wearing a Greek fisherman’s hat like dad… There were a few last minute things to do to get the house ready for later, and getting ourselves and Nova dressed. I’d decided against wearing black. I went through the typical teens/early 20s thing of wearing nothing but black, and mom used to be after me to wear some brighter, prettier colours. I’d brought a dark red silk skirt I knew she really liked, and wore that with a black velvet top and a necklace of hers. Nova wore the little pink dress of mine that mom had sent over for her birthday. All the men in the family wore suits. Cooincidentally, Ed and Bernard’s suits were almost identical blue pinstripes, which they’d both bought at the Salvation Army. We drove to the funeral home in convoy. The chapel was ready by 12:30, with mom’s picture up front, and flowers from Gale’s parents and Wade on either side. We waited in the reception room off to the side while people arrived and found their seats. At 1:00pm we filed in and took our seats up front. The place was packed (I discovered later that they’d had to set up additional chairs in the foyer). Nova bad don’t know what I was thinking, Adam took her out, followed not long after by Ceinwen and baby Liam. (I found out later that Patty and Jeremy’s wife Cheryl had looked after the little kids in the reception room, where there was a speaker that allowed them to hear the service.) Josanne started the proceedings off, and Auntie June was the first to speak. She talked about her childhood with mom, but she strugged and her daughter Cindy took over for her. It soon became obvious that Nova wasn’t going to sit quietly and Adam had to take her out, followed shortly by Ceinwen and Liam. Greg was next to speak, followed by Wendy, and Drew. And then it was my turn. I think I read my piece more than spoke it, but I got through it without crying. David read a lovely piece he’d written about mom, then Adam spoke about how mom stole the show at our wedding with her recitation of The Owl and The Pussycat. Lynette shared a little too much about her break-up with David and logistical difficulties in travelling to Kelowna. Wade got things back on course with a great impromptu speech about how he subjected mom to hours of hard rock when he got his new stereo, and ended by quoting Jimi Hendrix’s Little Wing. I’m not sure I can recall all the speakers: Lil Sugars, Lon Godfrey, Sheila Livesey read a poem she’d written for mom, Irene Lauritson, Cis Styles (a teaching friend from PG who we haven’t seen in decades), another woman who’d met mom a few times at caregivers. All the speakers added up to a beautiful rounded tribute. (Wendy’s mom Helen said afterwards that “if people say any of the stuff they said about Fern at my funeral, I’d be so pleased.”) Patty Carmichael was the last person to speak, sharing her memories of mom and reading out an email from Scott and Jane Steedman. Josanne wrapped things up with a reading from Kahlil Gibran, and couldn’t resist including a story about how mom had sent her a sign from the afterworld by turning her TV on in the night… I’d like to think it was true, and that she was somewhere watching the whole service, but I suspect Josanne pushed the wrong button on the remote. The service had lasted over an hour and a half. We filed out and formed a reception line. It took ages to greet everyone. There were many people I didn’t know, but so many old friends had taken the trouble to travel from Prince George, Vancouver, Calgary, Peace River, Victoria, Kamloops, Vancouver Island, Williams Lake… mom would have been amazed. I hadn’t thought that people would eat at funerals, especially one held just after lunch, but person after person passed by balancing a plate teetering with sandwiches, so I was wrong about that. (Actually, the way I’ve been eating since mom went into hospital, I could have worked that one out…) After an hour or so, we invited those remaining back to the house. I’d thought the funeral director was starting to get a bit edgy, and as we were leaving I could see that there was another group of people waiting for us to leave so that they could have their service. The funeral home had told us that there wasn’t any time constraints. I guess they’ve seen enough services to know how long it was likely to take, and we must have exceeded that. Back at the house, the weather was nice enough that some people stood in the garden, while others gathered inside. What with a crowd of people, lots of beer and wine, and tons of food, the party went on until the early hours. I alternated my drinks with glasses of water and never got too out of it. Around midnight, most of the young guys headed off to Mark Mariottos, a school friend of Wade’s who lives a ten minute walk away. Adam and I did the clearing up — so much better than getting up to an awful mess in the morning. Margo and Aaron were the last people to leave at about 2am. We gave mom a good send off — she would have loved it… |
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| October 17, 2003 I had a 9am appointment to get my hair cut at the worryingly named Deva’s salon. David, Adam and the girls dropped me off and went to the International House of Pancakes for breakfast, which is in the same strip mall. The guy cutting my hair asked where I was from. When I said London, he told me that when he was working in Winnipeg, he had a client who used to fly over from London especially to have him do her hair, which I found pretty unlikely. He also told me that he had been the exclusive stylist to a number of Winnipeg’s top television celebrities. So I was in good hands… I was also in very slow hands. It took him three hours to put some highlights in my gray patch, shampoo and condition my hair, and give me a trim. Adam kept popping back to check how things were proceeding, and he and David actually managed to keep the girls amused until I was finally done. Landyn arrived at lunch. Margo and Aaron weren’t far behind, bearing food for lunch: sausage rolls, veggies and dip, and feta-stuffed chillies. Patty Carmichael, who’s flown up from Vancouver, came over in the afternoon. She’s my oldest friend — the Carmichael’s moved next door when I was three. We folded mom’s memorial cards, and I practiced my speech on her. When I was in London, worrying about changing my ticket, I spent a couple of hours writing a piece about my mom. When I’d finished it I thought, “I should read this to mom to let her know how I feel about her.” Too often people end up saying things about their loved ones after they’ve died that they should have told them when they were alive. I rewrote the piece in the present tense, and had intended to read it to her, but I never got the chance. It’s really important to me that I do a good job of speaking at her funeral. I am a terrible public speaker — I’m easily overcome by nerves, and tend to whisper and speak too quickly. When my friends John and Jin-Sun got married, they asked me to read a poem at their wedding. I was dreading it the whole morning, and when I was finally standing up there my hands were shaking so hard it was difficult to read the book I was holding. Mom was standing a few feet in front of me, and I could actually feel her willing me through it, but I’m afraid I still did a pretty miserable job. I really don’t want that to happen tomorrow… Patty told me a nice little story about mom. She was playing a game with her daughter the other day, and suddenly thought, “Where did I get this from? My mom never did anything like this with us,” before remembering that it was Fern who used to play it with us. She’d sit on the front steps, with a few of us kids gathered at her feet. She’d say, “Go find me a red leaf,” or “Go find me a white stone,” and off we’d run to search the yard, or back alley for what she’d asked for, then run back with it. We used to love that game… Greg and Wendy arrived around supper time, and we made plans to go to Hectors Casa for dinner. When we got there, they’d given us the same table we’d sat at with mom exactly two years ago. And aside from Greg’s family, it was exactly the same group: Ed, Adam, Nova, David, Ceinwen, Margo, Aaron and me. It felt really sad being there without her. We ordered jugs of margaritas and jalapeno poppers to start (just like last time). I tried the chicken chimichangas and they were pretty good. Nova tucked away a fair few chips, and some bits of chicken and rice, although she was more interested in attempting an assault on her massive tumbler of apple juice. I don’t know why they do that: every restaurant we’ve been in has brought her a great, tall glass of juice with a long, unbendy straw sticking out. Now, her chin is only about two inches above the table. It is physically impossible for her to drink juice from that straw without tipping the glass all over herself or holding it in her lap. We were just finishing up when my friend Peter arrived from Gabriola Island. He had a margarita with us, and finished off my dinner, then we headed back to the house, where I discovered that Nova had stashed one of Hector’s salt cellars in my back. Now I have to decide whether to return it or to go back and get her to steal the pepper as well 😉 Dave drove out to the airport and picked up Lynette, who’s flown in for mom’s service. They’ve just split up (she moved into her own place two weeks ago) but wanted to attend the funeral. |
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| October 16, 2003 Happy 30th birthday, Gale! There is a lot of activity after someone dies. The phone calls, visitors, deliveries, cards, and numerous details involved in organising a funeral have ensured that we have been pretty busy in the days following mom’s death. I wonder if all this busyness is helping to carry us over the worst early days, or if the worst days come later once the loss has really sunk in. I sort of picture the realisation settling on me the way that silt would sink slowly through water to settle on the bottom. I also have a suspicion that “early days” might be two months, not two weeks… A piece of advice I’ve been given more than once is not to make any major decisions for the next year, while the bereavement is still so raw. I’d imagined that bereavement was a passive state: other people buzzed around taking care of things and reminding you to eat. In fact, it’s more like trying to organise a wedding and socialise with a mixed gathering of people (many of whom you don’t know very well) while trying to cope with the loss of your loved one. And it has really struck home how grieving is a two-way process. Mom had a lot of close friends who also coping with the loss. You find yourself comforting people who have come to comfort you. People say things and offer advice that is meant to help, and you appreciate the effort, regardless of how meaningful the words are to you. When I was weighing up whether to change my plane ticket and waiting to see if her condition worsened, my friend Patty said, “Just go as soon as you can. The more time you get to spend with her the better,” and that was very true. My friend Peter, who lost his mom a couple of years ago, suggested I save an article of her clothing in a ziplock bag so that I can smell it later. I expect that is good advice as well… He also said that when his mom was dying he dreaded how it would feel not to have her loving him anymore. But after she’d gone, he realised that her love was still there, and found it very comforting. The day passed in a flurry of housekeeping. Drew, Margo and Aaron arrive this evening, which will mark the start of the memorial weekend. I gave the bathroom a thorough scrubbing, and dusted and tidied the whole house. David hoovered like a man possessed, and he and Adam gave the kitchen floor a wash as well. We also finalised our catering arrangements: sandwiches and cakes following the service, and platters of meat and cheese and homebaking (from Wendy, Auntie June, Cindy and Brenda) at the house afterwards. Margo and Aaron pulled in about 6pm, laden with beer and home-smoked salmon. Ed was out at the airport waiting for Drew — his plane was delayed in Vancouver, where they actually had to abort their first landing just before touchdown — so we got stuck into a round of bloody Caesars while we waited for them to get back. Dinner was moose madras (moosemeat, potatoes, onions, tomatoes and madras curry paste), along with basmati rice and dhal. It was great to see Margo and Aaron, and we had a really nice evening, although I kept getting the feeling that something wasn’t right, and would realise again that mom was missing. So often this last week I’ve though how she would have enjoyed sitting with everyone, joining in on the conversation, or just watching her two little granddaughters. She was the most loving grandmother you could have wished for, and one of the saddest things for me in all this is thinking of all the love that Nova will out on from her Grandma Fern. Ed’s back has been really bothering him since mom died, and it’s hard for him to sit for long periods, or get out of chairs, or even put on his sandals. Margo suggested a back stretch, and soon had him lying on the floor with a rolled-up towel under the middle of his back. Margo’s always been a great one for treatments: walking massages, reflexology pressure points, or the “lomi lomi” Hawaiian stomach massage to ease the discomfort of Christmas overeating all spring to mind. Dad protested pretty loudly about the back stretch, how it was making things worse, how he was really done for now etc, but it may take a little while before he feels the benefits…;-) |
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| October 15, 2003 People do everything so slowly in Canada. I went for a leg waxing appointment this morning, and a treatment which takes 15 minutes tops in London took almost an hour in Kelowna. The girl spread the wax slowly, tore off the strips slowly, and removed dozen of individual haris with tweezers, while telling slow, meandering stories about her high school days in Prince George (all of two years ago). It’s not just the beauticians who move in low gear. The clerks in the supermarket carry on amiable small talk with customers while they slow-swipe their groceries, people drag their asses around the the mall, cars creep along the roads. Even the dogs seem to amble. I’m sure it’s a much more civilised way to live, but coming from London it’s taking some time to adjust to the change of pace. By the time my appointment finally ended, I had just 35 minutes to race around the mall buying tights, underwear, and a new pair of jeans at Gap before I had to meet David and Ceinwen. (I thought I’d buy a pair of size 10s to replace by now-too-tight size 8s, but they didn’t have any 10s, so I ended up with another pair of size 8s, even more unforgiving than my current pair…) In the car, I told David that as it was “waxing Wednesday” at Merle Norman I got 15% off my treatment; they also have “manicure Monday” and “tinting Tuesday” I reported. “They should have ice cream Sunday!” Ceinwen piped up from the back seat. Speaking of theme days, Adam and I took the family out for “wing Wednesday” at Earls. The restaurant is in a lovely spot downtown overlooking Okanagan Lake, but we’d never come when mom was alive because of the steep flight of stairs you need to climb to get to it. |
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| October 14, 2003 Dave was still feeling thirsty this morning, but was leaning more towards the coffee and water…;-) Mom’s good friend Lil Sugars cam by for a visit this morning. She had presents for the girls — a flower fairy for Ceinwen, an pair of handknitted bunny slippers for Nova — and a big tub of homemade ginger cookies for all of us. She was feeling pretty broken up and sorry that she hadn’t been able to visit mom in the hospital (she’s recovering from a major surgery). Dad and I picked up the big photo of mom we’d order for the service. It’s dad’s favourite picture of here: an informal pose, with her hair blowing in the wind and a pensive look on her face. Mom’s eyes were incredibly blue, and the photo really captures that. We had it blown up to 20″x24″ and mounted on foam card, and will ahve it sitting at the front of the chapel during the celebration. In the afternoon I put together a mock-up of mom’s memorial card. We’ve chosen a few lines from one of mom’s favourite poem’s — Wordsworths’ Tintern Abbey — and I superimposed it over a photo of a snow scene mom had taken out at Takla. Adam found a print shop who agreed to do them this evening, and aside from the usual last-minute hiccoughts of missing em-dashes, name misspellings, and copier problems, we had 150 copies of mom’s memorial card (pdf, 364K) ready for folding by dinner time. David and I made beef stroganoff for dinner with the leftover roast, and to my considerable surprise, Nova only picked at it. Stroganoff was my absolute favourite meal when I was a little girl. In first grade we put together a class cookbook. Each child was asked to bring in a recipe, and I chose stroganoff. I’ve been making it with tofue or tempeh for years, but having recently renounced vegetarianism I was able to enjoy the beef and bacon version for the first time in decades. |
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| October 13, 2003 Dad loves the way Nova prompts me to tell her one of her favourites stories. Out of the blue, she’ll turn to me and say, “One day… blue cow…” or “One day… Kipper and Tiger…” and that’s my cue to launch into Blue Cow goes to Grandma Fern’s house to eat pancakes, or to Cneip house to play on the beach, or Kipper’s birthday treasure hunt. Ceinwen has caught the Blue Cow bug as well, and I’ve been telling about forty stories a day. But where Nova enjoys the predictable repetition of the same phrases and details, Ceinwen delights in changing things, and is forever suggesting that Blue Cow eat hamburgers instead of pancakes, or throws up her breakfast, or gets washed out to sea, much to Nova’s consternation. It’s the same problem when they play with Nova’s pop-up Maisy house. Nova likes Maisie to get up, go peepee toilet, eat her food, have a bath, and go to bed again. Ceinwen in keen to drown Maisie in the bath, flush Panda down the toilet or make Maisie drink shampoo for breakfast instead of eating her eggs and toast. Things go so fraught that I had to repossess Maisie’s house yesterday… I’m glad Adam’s arrived — it’s really good to see him, and it’ll be a big help with Nova. David, the girls and I picked him up this afternoon. He was feeling pretty shattered by the travel and had an afternoon nap with Nova before dinner. Not surprisingly, the Novasaurus was pretty keen on roast beef, and both girls enjoyed their Yorkshire pudding. “It’s my new second favourite food after honey dip doughnuts!” Ceinwen declared. The whipped cream in a can we bought for the pumpkin pie was pretty well received as well. We had a couple of bottles of red wine with our meal. After dinner, Adam retired to bed. David made repeated trips to the beer fridge in the shed until we’d demolished the case of Corona Adam had bought. I guess he was still feeling thirsty, because he decided to break out the duty free whisky as well. Adam actually woke up and rejoined us for a couple of shots before we finally called it a night about 3am… |
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| October 12, 2003 It’s Thanksgiving this weekend. A lot of families will be having their turkey dinner today so that people can travel on holiday Monday, but we’ve decided to wait until tomorrow when Adam will be her. And Greg may fly up from Vancouver, where Wendy’s family have gathered this weekend to celebrate her mother’s wedding. We’re going to have a standing rib roast and Yorkshire pudding instead of turkey. We all agreed it would feel to sit down to a big turkey dinner without mom there. Dad cooked sausage, potatoes, fried onions, chard and beans from his garden for dinner tonight. The girls polished off their sausages, and Nova ate a bit of potato, but shunned the rest of her veggies. Ceinwen is an extremely picky eater. She told me earnestly that she likes only three food groups — pancakes, Cheerios, and milk. (I’m surprised she doesn’t count honey-dip doughnuts as a food group as well — she certainly likes those…) I thnk it’s doing her good to eat a few meals with another kid who’s a bit more adventurous with food. I heard Ceinwen on the phone to her mother this evening: “Do you know what, mommy? Nova eats OLIVES! No, really, she does! No, REALLY!” |
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| October 11, 2003 We’ve received dozens of sympathy cards already, and more arrive each day. There have been several flower deliveries as well. We didn’t include that “in lieu of flowers, please make a donation to…” line in mom’s obituary. She loved flowers, and would have taken such pleasure in all the beautiful arrangements. The phone never stops ringing. It starts about 8 in the morning and goes steadily until 10 at night. Most of the calls are from friends and relations offering condolences, but there are a good number related to the service we’re organising, or from florists checking we’ll be home to receive a flower delivery. David’s wife Lynette in Regina likes to phone him a few times a day, so his mobile is going off pretty regularly as well, as she has trouble getting through on the main line. Josanne brought round some sweet and sour pork this evening. i made a pot of rice and she joined us for dinner. At mom’s request, Josanne will be officiating at the memorial service. She did my grandmother’s memorial as well, and even married David and Lynette. She was one of mom’s oldest and dearest friends, and I know she’ll do a good job. |
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| October 10, 2003 I’ve been sharing mom and dad’s bed with Nova since we arrived. She’s always been inclined to roam in her sleep. Last night she worked her way around until she was lying across the pillow and kicked me square in the teeth. “Hurt foot!” she bawled before drifting off to sleep again… Wade set off after breakfast. He’ll be down next weekend with Gale and Liam for the funeral. Mom’s obituary appear in today’s Courier. The photo’s a bit dark, but otherwise it looks pretty good. As soon as I saw it in print, I realised we’d left out the line that the nurses at the dialysis unit, which was in the original version the computer swallowed. It was a shame, because they’d been good to mom. Oh well… Still no casseroles… leftover spaghetti for dinner. |
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The picture of mom we used in the obituary |
October 9, 2003 We placed mom’s obituary in the Kelowna and Prince George papers today. (Auntie June has put something in the William’s Lake paper as well.) David and I spent an hour or more crafting a draft on my new laptop, but when I went to email it yesterday morning the damn thing seized up, and it turns out that it will need a new hard drive. We recreated the text from memory and I printed it out carefully by hand, before delivering it to the Kelowna Courier, along with a beautiful photo of mom taken last January. The woman and the front desk typed it up, and when she asked if we wanted to proofread it, we found six mistakes — Wade’s name was misspelt “Wadle”, Landyn was left out entirely along with other, more garden variety typos. Here’s the final text as it appeared in the paper:
After lunch, Ed, David, Wade, Ceinwen, Nova and I went up to First Memorial for mom’s viewing. They had laid out her body in their chapel. Mom hadn’t ordered a coffin in her pre-paid funeral plan, as she wanted to be cremated, but they’d draped the box in a deep blue cloth and it looked very nice. “Grandma Fern sleeping,” Nova pronounced cheerfully before wriggling out of my arms to run about with Ceinwen while we said goodbye. Mom’s expression wasn’t quite right. I don’t know whether it was because she was dead, or because the person who prepared her body didn’t know how she should look, but her mouth had a pinched set to it that was unlike her. Dad starting trying to rearrange her expression, but Wade asked him to stop. After a while we moved into the reception room next door and took it in turn to say goodbye in private. We opened a bottle of wine when we returned from the viewing, and started a second one to accompany the big pot of spaghetti that Wade made for dinner. We seem to be drinking a lot. Or I’m drinking a lot for me — two or three Coronas a day, and wine with dinner, not to mention the odd mixed drink. I opted not to put my jeans in the dryer when I washed them today. I’ve already shrunk two of my long sleeved teeshirts — I can’t afford for my jeans to get any smaller… |
| October 8, 2003 We chose some clothes for mom to wear at her viewing tomorrow: her long black jacket, new black skirt, and a nice white blouse. We picked some jewellery for her to wear as well, which they’ll take off before cremating her. Josanne brought over a pot of soup for our lunch. I had that idea that when someone died all your friends and neighbours would come round with casseroles. That we’d open the door and there would be a tuna noodle casserole or chicken pot pie on the front step. Either that idea is out of date, or it a cliche that I’ve picked up from movies or novels, but we haven’t received a single casserole. Two people have sent platters of cold cuts and sandwiches, two have made cookies, and two gave us chocolate cakes, all of which were very thoughtful, but the casseroles are nowhere to be seen. Ordered Chinese food for dinner… |
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| October 7, 2003 Nova woke at about 5:30am clamouring for “‘Bix!” Her cough still sounds terrible, but the fever has gone, and she has a reasonable appetite, so I’m not too worried about her. One thing about having a small child to look after — it keeps you from focussing too much on your grief. Greg and Wendy headed off first thing, and Ed and Wade went up to the funeral home to make arrangements. Ed had drawn up a list of people who needed to be contacted, and David and I spent the morning breaking the news to family friends. They were difficult calls to make — each time I’d say the words I’d have to struggle not to break down in tears. We were both pretty wrung out by the time we’d finished. We demolished our sandwich platter from the Ericksons for dinner. It was likely meant to feed 16, but the four of us (plus Nova) handled it easily. I would have expected mom’s death to have taken a toll on my appetite, but I’m eating loads. It’s as if I’m on autopilot when it comes to food. My jeans are starting to feel a bit tight… |
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| October 6, 2003 Mom died this morning at about 8:45am. Nova woke at 7:30am, and seemed to be feeling a bit better. I made her some Weetabix, and had just climbed into the shower to wash yesterday’s vomit out of her hair, when David and Wade came in with the news of mom’s death. We got dressed and headed up to the hospital. Nova and I drove with my cousin Cindy who’s just arrived to drive Auntie June back to Williams Lake. Mom’s room was empty and for an awful moment I thought they’d taken her body already, but it turned out that she had died downstairs in the dialysis unit. Ed, Greg and Wendy were with her when it happened. We went downstairs to find them, and there she was, lying there with her eyes open, looking as if she was just about to speak. After we’d been there a few minutes, a nurse suggested moving mom back to her private room, where the family could gather comfortably. We spent the rest of the morning in her room. They brought in a kettle and teabags, and Wade made tea. The little girls played together and the rest of us just sat in the chairs or stood next to mom. When we were ready to leave, Nova waved and said, “Bye bye Grandma Fern!” The rest of the day seems a bit of a blur now… I was so exhausted that it felt like the ground kept lurching up towards me, but when I finally went to bed, I found that I couldn’t sleep. Nova was partly to blame, what with her jet lag and coughing, but I don’t imagine I would have slept much anyway. |
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| October 5, 2003 The flight out to Vancouver was an ordeal. Nova was pretty well-behaved — I think she could sense that something was up, and kept giving me hugs. At one point she started gently stroking my back, which she’s never done before — “give mommy a rub” she said. The plan was half empty, and we had a bank of three seats to outselves. I’d packed a lot of little treats and snacks for Nova, and every once in a while I’d pull somehting new out of our bag: crayons, a book or ‘tubby magazine, a salami sandwich… The time passed so painfully slowly… I eventually settled Nova for a nap, and thought I might sleep a bit myself. I dozed off, and when I jerked awake again I checked my watch thinking perhaps an hour had passed, but it was only ten minutes… I was tormented by images of what might be happening in Kelowna. About three hours into the flight Nova developed a barking cough — she sounded like a seal. I gave her a dose of Medised, and that seemed to help a bit. She didn’t have a temperature, and her appetite was okay, so I wasn’t too worried. Just as I was expecting the caption to announce that we were starting our descent into Vancouver, the flight attendant’s started handing out slices of pizza. “Shouldn’t we be landing soon?” I asked. “Oh, we’re about an hour behind schedule,” the attendant replied. When I explained our situation, they moved us up to business class so we’d be the first off the plan when we landed to give us the best chance of making our connection to Kelowna. As soon as they opened the doors I scooped up Nova and dashed for it. In the immigration hall I went straight to the front of the line, and just said, “I need to go next please.” There was no way to hurry to the bags onto the carousel though, and by the time I’d collected our luggage we’d missed the flight. I phoned to tell Dad my new flight time and get an update on mom. She’s doing a bit better than yesterday, but is still feeling pretty rough. Nova was so patient while I made my phone calls, that I said, “You’ve been such a good girl, I’m going to buy you a present. What would you like?” “A toy — AND chocolates.” she said decisively. I bought her a groovy girl doll and a package of glossettes, and set up camp in the play area, to wait for our connecting flight. Nova’s cough was getting worse and worse, and she seems to be developing laryingitis as well. She played happily enough and was reasonably cheerful, even though it was about 10pm London time. Our flight to Kelowna finally took off at 2:45pm. The first time I saw one of those Dash-8s that Air Canada use for their provincial flights, I nearly turned on my heel and left. They are a strange looking plane, and with their twin propellers, glider-style wings and T-shaped tail they look like some sort of oversized insect. Once those propellers start up, they make such a deafening buzz, it’s like sitting inside a giant hornet. Once we were airborne, we bounced towards Kelowna like a stone skipping on water. Nova slept the whole way, with her seatbelt round her middle and her legs up against the window. She was pretty hot and cranky when we finally touched down. Wade and Jeremy were there to meet us, and we strapped Nova into Jacob’s carseat and headed into town. Just as we were turning off the highway she threw up all over herself. I couldn’t believe the volume that came out of her — her clothes, new dolly and the carseat straps were soaked. At the house I cleaned her up as best I could and changed her clothes, before we headed over to the hospital. It was a shock to see how thin mom has become. When I put my hand on her shoulder it felt like stone — there was no fat or muscle beneath her skin. With all the fluid in her pleural cavity she isn’t able to speak more than a whispered word or two, but her eyes were alert and bright. I could tell she was pleased to see us, and beamed at Nova. She managed to tell me that Nova was even prettier than the photos I’ve been sending. I sat by her side and had a bit of a visit while Nova played in the corner of the room. Mom wasn’t feeling very well though. The nurse gave her a shot of morphine, which seemed to make her feel worse. Aunti June, Ed, Wade, Jeremy and his baby Russell were all visiting as well, and mom seemed to find it a bit much. It was 3am London time by this point, and I really needed to get Nova down for the night, so we left dad and June and headed back to the house. Nova was too exhausted to eat anything, and I put her straight to bed. An hour later, I was just about to retire myself when Nova woke up crying. She was running a temperature, and her mouth was full of a shiny clear mucus that reminded me of egg whites. David had just arrived from Regina, and he call the nurses’ line while I tried to calm Nova and clear away the mucus. After speaking to a nurse it sounds like Nova has croup. I dosed her up with Medised, started up a humidifier in our room and climbed into bed for my first bit of sleep in 48 hours. It was a pretty restless night. Nova would sleep for an hour or two, then wake upset and need an hour’s settling down. |
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| October 4, 2003 Spoke to David on the phone this afternoon about changing our plans to travel to Kelowna a bit sooner. We’re both feeling a bit nervous about leaving it another couple of weeks. David’s now planning to drive out this weekend, then drive back and fly out again on the 18th. I’m going to try to move my ticket to the 7th or 8th. Dad phoned this evening. Mom’s doctor told him to tell any out-of-town family to come as soon as possible. We called Air Canada and booked two bereavement tickets for Nova and me on the next flight. I spent the night packing. At 5am I made Adam some coffee in the travelling cup, loaded our bags into the car, and woke Nova and Adam. It was bitterly cold outside — the car thermometer read 2C. At Heathrow the reservations clerk was very sympathetic, and sold me another seat sale priced ticket for the next flight, instead of the $5000 worth of bereavement tickets I’d booked a few hours earlier. She gave me a form to cancel the first tickets when I return. |
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| October 3, 2003 Nova and have a new song we’ve been singing over and over for the last couple of days:
Each time we finish around Nova cries, “That sounds brilliant! Again!!” |
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| October 2, 2003 Happy birthday, Carol! Adam and I had our long-awaited appointment with the andrologist (sperm guy) today. Freddy came by to stay with Nova and we set off for out 8:25am appointment. You’d assume that would be one of the first appointments of the day, but somehow they were already one and half hours behind schedule, and we weren’t seen until after 10am. They still hadn’t managed to relocate my notes (which were missing at our appointment last June) so we ran through the whole tale again. Adam was sent off to “produce a sample”, and we returned to the waiting room. About 20 minutes later, they called us back. The results were much better this time. The number of abnormal forms had dropped back into the normal range. There weren’t as many good swimmers as last time, but there were enough average ones that it shouldn’t be a problem, and the overall count was very good. So the verdict after all this testing is that there is no reason they can find for the problems we’ve experienced. The specialist thinks we’d be good candidates for IUI (the “turkey baster” technique). I’d go on a series of hormone injections to stimulate the ovaries, and they’d scan me every few days to determine when an egg was released. Adam would then provide another “sample”, which would be washed to improve the overall quality. This would be inserted into me using the equivalent of a turkey baster, and then I’d be given progesterone to encourage any pregnancy that might result. I haven’t decided yet if I want to go down that route. Apparently it has a much better success rate than IVF, but the hormones and drugs can make you feel pretty lousy. Also it’s been my experience that it takes a few months to get the hormones out of your system afterward, so if it didn’t work, it’d be four months of the treatment and then another few months at least before things would return to normal again. We’ll have to give it some thought… |
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| October 1 , 2003 Dad called last night. There’s some worrying news about mom’s condition. She’s been in the hospital for a couple of weeks now, and although they drained 2 litres of fluid from her pleural cavity, it seems to have filled up again. She’s still having trouble breathing and is feeling very weak. The hospital has analysed the fluid they extracted and have found evidence of cancer. They need to do further tests to confirm this, but we’re all feeling pretty worried. I’d been planning to visit Kelowna in October with Nova, and have a ticket reserved for the 16th. David and Ceinwen are coming out from Regina around the same time, which should be fun for the little girls. I was hoping mom would out of the hospital, but it’ll be great to see her either way.
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