She Is Missed

Christmas marks the turning of a new solar year. Three days after the solstice the days begin to lengthen. Light is brought back to us with the promise of warmth to follow. One week later, the Julian calendar marks the New Year. We all go out and celebrate the symbolic passing of old to new, ironically repeating an ageless cycle. Now, a week on from New Year's, is another symbolic date. And again it feels like more than just a date but a real time of change.

It was a year ago today that my Mom passed away. January 8th, 2009 wasn't a time of light, but a time of darkness.

I spent most of that day flying back to Canada to visit my sick mother. As the plane was taxiing into the gate I was suddenly overwhelmed with odd feelings. I became dizzy and extremely nauseous. For a number of minutes all I could do was pant and hold the air sickness bag. I wasn't air sick.

The customs and baggage lines never felt longer. Cell phones don't work within Pearson airport. Something felt surreal. When I finally got to the transport desk, to catch my shuttle to the hospital, I got told I had a message from home.

That whole experience was like having colour turned off. Like a cloud, so thick and black, parked over me. Daylight was almost night. And try as I have, a part of the nausea and a part of the darkness have remained. It's the place in my soul I used to feel my mother. The part that told me when it was her calling on the phone. That part that told me when she died.

And yet today felt different. A year later and the thick dark cloud is slowly lifting. Like the long sloping line of a warm front, the horizon appears to be clear sky.

Today isn't a colourful day. But it is bright. The world outside is entirely white. A thick fog last night fell onto the trees and buildings as a beautiful pure-white ice. My eyes see it as a symbolic start, a point where darkness begins to give room to light. Today marks my new year.

They can never take that away

On my last trip home to Canada I came across the wicker basket that adorned the front of my Mother's bicycle. I remembered the basket for one reason only, a single day's bike ride.

It's a distant memory. One of my most distant. Shortly after I learned how to ride a bike, my Mom and I went for a ride out in the country. We rode along Lakeshore Road, over the canal, and into the farms and orchards of Niagara to get fresh strawberries.

The most memorable part was that the basket ended up overfilled with strawberries, and the jiggling of the basket as we rode meant our prize was liquifying itself as we went. So we had no choice but to (1) stop and enjoy the fresh strawberries along the roadside, and (2) make jam, once home. A great life lesson, it defined a perfect summer day. And it stained the bottom of the basket red.

That old bike is long gone. Mom's gone too. But the basket and stain remained. Until recently.

I had no choice. I couldn't sell this early-childhood memory at our yard sale. I took it home and mounted it on my "granny bike". My God it was useful! So convenient. And like taking a little part of Mom everywhere too.

I couldn't sell it. But I knew such a basket couldn't last on the bike either. It was only a matter of time. Only a matter of months.

Now there's a single zip-tie remaining around my handbar. It reminds me of where the basket used to be. Now I shall forever see the basket that used to be there. It's absence is a constant reminder. A reminder of a beautiful summer day, and the pure joy of cycling, and strawberries, and Mom. The basket is gone, but they can never take away the sweet memory.

Happy Birthday Mom

Happy Birthday, Mom. Today you would be 67. That fact alone makes me cry.

I didn't know how to celebrate Mother's Day this year. I feel like I should be "doing something" for your birthday too. And so I am. I'm going bike riding.

Good or bad, you set an example that I learned from. And thanks to that, I hope to be riding on my 67th too.

Finally a moment...

I'm here to report that I have finally felt a moment of peace.

It took a long time to figure out what it was, to find the word. It wasn't that I suddenly realized I felt happy. I didn't. But I didn't feel the pain either. There are challenges and bad times before me and behind, but this moment felt neutral. There is so much to be done, and yet nothing needed doing right then. After arriving home feeling sick yesterday, I finally felt well, and had slept.

And for a moment, peace felt good.

Thanks to Zeus the dog for making the cancelled flight in Frankfurt more tolerable. And thanks to all of you who have sent hugs and condolences via all the messages, emails and posts. They genuinely conveyed their messages and brought me strength in hard times.

Now? Well now there's simply a peaceful Saturday morning. Soon? Soon there will be the job hunt, moments of grieving, negotiations for temp work, signing up for Dutch class, returning to karate, and catching up with friends. A mixed bag.

Hopefully, every now and then, for a moment or two at a time, there will be more moments of peace.

In Loving Memory

Judith Ann D'Antonio passed away peacefully at the St. Catharines General Hospital January 8, 2009 in her 67th year. Beloved wife of Ralph D’Antonio and loving mother of son Morgan. Also survived by her sister Sandra (& Bob) Channell and brother Rusty (& Karen) Williams. Judy was predeceased by her parents Mr. And Mrs. H.B. Williams.

Adored aunt of Missy (& Joe) Roma, Cody Channell, Jessica Crawford and Chris Crawford. Great aunt to Sammy, Max, Brody and Caden. Judy will also be missed by a special group of childhood girl friends.

Judy was a former schoolteacher and over the years taught in schools in St. Catharines, Niagara Falls, Chatham and Burlington. Judy was a member of St. Julia’s Church.

Judy had many hobbies and interests. She loved crafts, decorating, reading, music, cooking, movies and was an avid traveller. Judy won several local cooking contests and sang in the choirs of her local churches in the aforementioned cities.

Judy is resting at Darte's Funeral Home in St. Catharines, ON.

Visitation Saturday and Sunday 2-4 and 7-9 Jan 10/11

Service to be held at St. Julia’s on Monday at 11am

In lieu of flowers, her family encourages donations to the Heart and Stroke Foundation or a charity of your choice.

Special thanks to the doctors, nurses and staff at the General Hospital especially the staff on Mills 4 for their caring, understanding and sympathy.

----

I love you mom. Thank you. I owe all that I am to you.

Old and New

I'm told that the tendancy to use the New Year to consider your life is a cultural one. Taken for granted in North America, people make resolutions for improvement. I think I've mentioned, even here, that I like to stop and consider things more routinely. But this tradition of contemplation and New Year's resolutions still makes for a great time to talk about such things.

Spend your year asking your friends for "the meaning of it all" or such and you'll be labelled as melancholy. Discussing resolutions, however, is more socially acceptable. Although even here, resolutions are often personal, and responses and comments need to be strictly limited.

Person1: "I'm planning to hit the gym more and get in better shape."
Person2: "Oh, I know a great gym in my neighbourhood and they are running a special right now."

This is socially acceptable.

Person1: "I'm planning to hit the gym more and get in better shape."
Person2: "So you're feeling fat, eh? Good, I didn't know how to mention what I'm stuck looking at."

This is not.

It's a shame, really, that we don't discuss more openly our motives behind things. Resolutions are proposed solutions to problems in our lives. We discuss those, but rarely the underlying motivating problem. Oh well.

In the coming weeks and months I resolve:

• To study my Dutch and attempt the tests to show I know it because there are things I want to do, but I need a passport to accomplish them.
  
• To go back to the gym, because my cardio fitness is lacking and I would like to loose some fat.
• To get a good job, because in a couple weeks I'll be unemployed and that's probably not good.
• To visit my mom, because her health is bad and I should be there for her.

There's more. Personal stuff. But that's the main part.

This really is a time of change for me. It isn't just due to the calendar or a holiday. It's actually kind of crazy, the total amount of change coming at once. But that reminds me of one more "resolution" I've choosen.

I resolve to keep smiling.

Happy New Year everyone! Don't stay up too late tonight. ;-)

Merry Christmas to all....

My apartment smells so much like Christmas that I keep expecting my mom to step into the living room at any moment. It's the turkey carcass boiling into soup that really makes the difference. And believe it or not, I really made the turkey.

Cooking the turkey is a bit of a special thing in North American culture. I think traditionally passed on from mothers to daughters, it can include great conflict when passed to a daughter-in-law. People outside or new to the family just don't know the right way to do it. Their stuffing is always wrong. Good, often delicious, but wrong.

Such are the mysterious ways of the turkey. Oh, and more so, the stuffing.

Men learn these things from books. It's written down in little formulas... so many minutes per pound for turkey A, given a maximum weight less than X and a stuffing_variable set to yes. Then you wait (ignoring time) until you get that rich "turkey almost burning" smell and you're done. Easy.

And delicous.

I hope everyone enjoyed celebrating the spirit of Christmas (eating too much with family/friends) as much as I did. Merry Christmas all.

So Much

A day? What a difference a month makes! And a busy month at that.

Logistically, it's been busy. Two week trips to Belgium to teach, a week of teaching in Holland, and a few days in Denmark for a trade show again. This week I work four days then I'm off to Canada for a week.

Spiritually and emotionally, it's been busy. That dinner date went well. I'm cooking for two a lot more often. Alas I'm also worried for my Mom's health. Thus the trip so soon back to Canada.

Physically, it's been busy. I spent two-weeks sick with only a half-day off work. Over the same time-period I've gotten back into nutritional and fitness and I'm happy with the progress. And even better than that, I'm quitting smoking!

I have no doubt it's all over TV advertisements in North America, but I hadn't ever heard of Champix (tm) before meeting last week with my doctor. "Take these pills, keep smoking a week, then take these stronger ones and stop smoking." It was pressented to me as that easy, and I think it might actually be!

At least the first week is easy. "Take these pills and keep smoking." Too easy. But each day I've noticed I'm smoking less and getting less out of each attempt. I say attempt, because for most of my life the craving for a cigarette has been immediately satisfied by, a cigarette. Champix blocks that. So cigarette breaks are becoming pointless. Thankfully at the same time this medication reduces the urge to smoke, leaving me happy with the idea of soon being smoke-free.

Smoke-free, back to exercise, eating well? Gosh, if I'm not careful I may soon find myself "healthy"!

Mostly A Good Week

That was a good week. I spent 3 nights/4 days away in Belgium to train NATO soldiers (mostly Air Force) on the intricit subtlties of my employer's software. The town of Mons is lovely to look at! So nice to walk through. So boring to stay in.

But the boring evenings were made up for three-fold by (1) Terry Pratchett, (2) French cuisine, and (4) uhm, (3) Belgian beer! The days needed no making up for. I was teaching people whom I very much enjoyed being with and working with. Lunches were always fun and class participation was high. I even got to attend a change of command parade and congratulate the new sector commander.

But amongst the enjoyable times, there was also a very sobering and nasty moment thanks to the BBC. Previously I was unaware of Omar Khadr, a Canadian citizen, who was visiting relatives in Afghanistan when it was invaded by the United States. On July 7th, 2002, U.S. soldiers attacked Omar's location... a "terrorist camp." He was the only person to survive (although gravely wounded) and arrested for the "murder" of the one U.S. soldier lost in the attack. Since that time, Omar has been held and tortured and has spent roughly 1/3 of his life now in Guantanamo Bay. A third? That's right, because Omar was only 15 years old when he was arrested.

Omar is the last Western citizen still in custody in Gitmo. Why?

Just incase Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper reads Blogger... let me state for the record that this makes me incredibly angry, ashamed, and quite frankly, left me feeling sick! Mr. Harper, I'm now feircely looking forward to voting against you! And I think this time around I'll do some campaigning around my expat communities, making sure Canadians are registered to vote. Until then, be warned that by writing this blog I've now informed my mother. You're in trouble mister!

The timing of this information was ironic. Just hours earlier I had stopped at an old palace in Grand Place (the town square) and read a plaque commemorating how Canadians liberated Belgium in the First World War. The last shots of the war were fired there, November 11th, 1918.

In happier news, Happy Birthday to the Ice Queen! July 17th was cellebrated the world over by people thankful to know her.

Inspite of a few rough patches in the middle, the training week went well. It ended on a good tone and included me staying on base a bit past class-time to enjoy some 1 Euro beers with the Comms guys. They were fun!

Finally home again, apparently for 4 weeks now, all I can say is that it is, of course, great to be back! 10 hours of sleep and a slow, quiet day have helped rejuvinate this old body. I'm hoping the clearing sky and improved weather will stay around while I head out tonight and rejuvinate the spirit. ;-)

Brazil - Pics for Mom

J.D. guest posts...

Today J.D. is guest posting. She wanted to borrow the airwaves to say a few words.

---

Thanks, Dearest Morgan,

The best way to be ill is when you feel well. When doctors tell you that you are health challenged and your heart tells you that you will be O.K.; when you can still smile and laugh through it all; when your most loved people are beside you, there is still another reason to be joyful……..friends are praying for you and sending happy thoughts to you. I felt those good wishes and get well messages coming from all my blogger friends. Everyday I think of you, friends, and for most I picture your faces, as if you lived next door.

Special thanks are sent to Quilly, Irene, Minka, Charline, Theresa, Becky, Wanda, Neva, and Kryte. Any minute we may meet a special friend…it may take an hour to appreciate her/him…it may take only a day to love that person…but, it will take a lifetime to forget a special friend. That is how I feel about you all and I couldn’t leave it unsaid.

For the next little while, just think of me resting, reading, watching TV, humming or adding to my I Tunes list and enjoying all of my favourite inactivities. :-)

……………….Love, Judy

---

Thanks and love also from me. It was a tough week for the whole family and your well wishes and prayers really did help.

She's Home She's Home!

She's home, she's home, J.D. is finally home! Safe and sound from the hospital, my Mom arrived home just in time to share my last night in Canada... and thank goodness! The family has been going nuts, and it all finally feels okay again.

Suddenly laundry is a priority. Dinner was a group event. The evening is devoted to the three of use around the television.

So what's the prognosis you ask? What did all the test results say? Well, would you believe that the doctors really don't know, but literally sent her home with a perscription for aspirin? LOL! Take two aspirin and call your cardiologist in the morning.

It's been an unpleasant experience. But given that it could have been a lot of serious things, and appears not to be, everyone involved is feeling lucky and counting blessings. Thanks all for the well wishes and prayers!

Peace and Love

Very Scary News

It's been a year since I've been home to Canada. Thanksgiving last year I pulled into the driveway just an hour before the whole family sat down to dinner. This year, I intended to wait until Christmas to come home. Until, that is, I began to suspect that my mother's always-poor health was a little worse than normal. The other day I booked a last minute flight home.

Things actually seemed pretty normal when I arrived. Mom and Dad were both in great spirits. J.D. looked a little more frail than normal but was so happy to see me.

And yesterday afternoon seemed like a very normal day. After a bit of shopping with my Dad, and some time hanging out with Mom, the three of us were sitting in the living room watching TV and chatting.

J.D. is a Coke addict. Coca-Cola that is. She has a glass of the stuff with her all day and all night. It's her preferred way to wash down heart pills, etc.. So it seemed odd when she suddenly asked me," Who's glass of cola is this?"

"It's yours Mom."

Two minutes later she asked," Is this your cola?" and at that moment the day began to fall apart. She really didn't know. She didn't know that she had just asked. She didn't know what she had been doing. She couldn't answer any question about the preceding 3 hours. And she was almost as afraid of that as Dad and I were.

There were no other signs of symptoms of a problem. No headache or weakness or dizziness. No pain or similar. But her confusion was so profound we wasted no time and grabbing only a book and her purse we went to the hospital.

Those first few moments were the worst part. We suspected, but didn't speak about, a stroke. As it turns out, it seems that minor heart-attack is more likely.

J.D. is well. She's fine, at the hospital, in good hands, and in high spirits. Mainly she's excited to be able to visit with her friend Carol who's there post knee surgery. We don't even know for sure yet whether it was indeed a heart attack. But from all the tests and probes and scans and monitoring this seems the most likely. And she'll be staying a second night, tonight, to give the doctors time to figure it all out.

By tomorrow I'm sure J.D. will be home again. In the mean time, Dad and I are going to try to cook the Thanksgiving turkey on our own (first time for either of us) so that tonight we can bring her the turkey sandwich that she's insisting on.

Stay tuned for updates. Well wishes can be sent here or here, and prayers are always appreciated.

It was a pretty scary night, but I've never been more glad to be home. I love you Mom!