February 10th, 2011
‘Look for the stars, you will say that there are none; / Look up a second time, and, one by one / You mark them twinkling out with silvery light, / And wonder how they could elude the sight!’ Another quote from Wordsworth. The message is simple enough. You need to pay closer attention to something you feel you have already inspected. Just as the stars are sometimes subtle and difficult to detect – especially if you have just emerged from a brightly lit room – you need time to adjust your eyes to a new sight today.

Finally got my blog migrated to wordpress. I felt a lot of pressure about this project, when honest to God, it turned out to be easy, and a far greater blessing than the originally much more daunting task of force-transferring my blog from one email address to another. See, the thing that I prefer with WordPress over all of the other blog sites I use, is that you can import outside blogs- even several, into one new blog. I really do love it. I’m sure that if I wanted, there is even a way to transfer one entry to a different blog on the same account. Suffice it to say, I am super-thrilled. I would move my blogger blogs to wordpress, if it didn’t mean augmenting all of my advertising, and then having limited layout functionality. My press blogs are highly dependent on a very editable theme and layout. I tend to keep the layout fairly uniform across my blogs- but definitely the themes are important when it comes to media blogs.

So I haven’t updated in… well… forever. June, I think- which is the month I got married. And worst of all, I think my last update was before my wedding. Erm… maybe it was even May. O_O”. May and June were intensely crazy. I wasn’t working yet (well, neither myself or John were) and we were both living with my Mother and scrounging the dregs of our EI cheques to pay for our wedding, and sheepishly accepting unexpected handouts from people. Our wedding came fast. We were staying out at the farm for almost two weeks before the wedding, getting the house ready and spending time with Mom, Dad and Gillie. I really miss her. I wish that the situation with Deanne was not the way it is, preventing us from bridging the gap to see her. I may be John’s wife, but I don’t feel like I get to be an authority when it comes to his dealings with Deanne and Gillie- they were a foothold in his life before I even met him. And while I can try to guilt him into facing the music and telling Deanne where to get off if she tries to play Gillian against him for money he doesn’t have, I can’t force him. He doesn’t much respond to threatening and as selfish as it is, the one threat he would respond to, I won’t put on the table.

Our wedding was beautiful. It was at the Filberg Estate in the valley, on a gorgeous summer day, down by the beach. We had an Alice in Wonderland wedding. Gillian was dressed up like Alice. I wore a complimentary wedding dress, and John wore a white and gold suit. We opted not to go with a tux- too traditionally formal. My Mom dressed up as the red queen- of course, she is not one to be upstaged, even by the bride. 😛 I have to admit: John and I moved really quickly. We started dating, and a week later I stopped going home. A week after that, we joked about getting married, and aside from having a ring to make it official, we were pretty much engaged. We had originally planned to get married that summer, but money didn’t allow for that. It’s okay, in hindsight, we really needed that extra year, or I really believe we would have been looking at an annulment. There were a lot of things that we needed to address that I had not initially realized were even there. Yeah. Neither of us is perfect, and yeah; John made a lot of mistakes. But we worked through it together. He is different, for the better. He is an incredibly attentive and generous husband. We have no secrets, and there are no lies. There were large, very large attempts to have secrets and lies, before we got married. Sadly, I had to use some dishonesty myself in order to unearth the truth. But I can’t regret my subterfuge. It may be Machiavellian to say, but someone had to do it. At some point, someone had to decieve the deciever- and in that way maybe he met his match. You can’t go behind my back, you can’t lie, you can’t even consider lying or slip up, not one time, not without my knowing about it. And if you can’t handle knowing that I know everything, then you can’t handle me. I am an open book.

Anyhow, amidst everything else that was going on, my wedding was perfect. Mom and Dad put myself, Andrea and Kat up in Timberlane for the night before our wedding. We had a great old time. The night before, we stayed up late at the farm doing the last minute touches and I was finishing the cake. My Mom left Nanaimo too late and the cake didn’t even get started until sometime in the evening. We had a really hard time getting the edible part to turn out right and it was what I would consider “bearable.” Mom made a second cake for the other guests who were not diabetic. It wasn’t the cupcake tree we were hoping for, but we just ran out of time. In the end, it was still beautiful and still “us”. I wish we’d been able to make the top hat instead of a barber shop hat, but oh well. After that, John ran us out to Timberlane, and us girls stayed up most of the night in the hot tub there. The rest of the time they slept, and I stayed up getting ready. I think I had maybe two or three hours of sleep. It wasn’t ideal but I couldn’t stop thinking there was still too much to do. The shower in our room was incredible. I got pictures of everything. I wish we could afford to stay there every year- it was gorgeous!

The next morning, my Mom and Sarah brought over Shai-Ann and Gillian, and we all got ready together. Shai-Ann was unusually shy, but she made fast friends with Gillian. For being the same age, Gillian is a great deal bigger (and by bigger I mean taller) than Shai-Ann. Shai is a tiny little wee slip of a thing. We got into the Van, and stopped very briefly for red bull (because I was up most of the night, hahaha!) and went to the estate.

Getting married is huge- I mean, beyond bonding yourself to another person for the rest of your life and forsaking all others. I mean, the most important people in your life should be there. Most of them were. My Grandparents couldn’t make it, because my Grandfather received his last round of chemotherapy only two days before and was too ill to attend. It hurts my heart a little. Unfortunately, he passed away on January 17th. That is honestly a whole new entry- but there you have it. My Dad was absent, as well, as was my friend Chris. The whole thing was sort of surreal. Like prom, in a way, I knew I as experiencing a milestone event that should be once in a lifetime. It was fun, it was romantic, and by God I wanted to stretch it out forever.

I am saddened a little. John and I were both really disappointed. As soon as the guests were fed they began to trek out the door in droves. Nobody stayed so that we could have our first dance, or a bouquet toss, or anything. I felt a bit robbed by that. After all, everyone was fed and finished by 8pm. That isn’t particularly late. Oh well. Nothing can be done about that now. We’re married and for what money we had, we actually had a really nice wedding, We had fantastic photos and most of the people I wanted there were there.

Things since the wedding… I found a job… at another 7-Eleven, in Nanaimo. For months, after a huge argument with Chris that ended in his physical assault of my Mother, I moved out and was living at her place, on EI, getting food almost solely from the food bank. My room was a blowup mattress, my computer and a freecycled television. But hey- it was mine. In some ways I think I needed to take that step back from the progression of my life to get my brain into a different place- free of the consideration of other people. And it really showed me how much John cares for me, that despite his having his own house, his own home, his own room, he stopped going home and made home wherever I was. He slept with me every night on a blowup mattress that really was not good for his back, and put up with my deeply co-dependent shihtzu despite his distaste for dogs.

That six months was very hard- and it changed my relationship with my Mom in a huge way. My sister’s then-boyfriend was in the hospital with food poisoning, and we went to be supportive. About 200 feet outside the ER doors, my Mom slipped on a gravel hill taking a shortcut back to the car (she wears stupid shoes for everything and wonders why she gets hurt), and broke her tibia and fibula through in a spiral. She had to be lifted by paramedics back to the ER and was taken immediately to surgery. She has plates and pins holding her leg together now. It was an awful injury and required months and months of recovery. Sadly, I have to admit that when I saw her go down, I saw my life flash before my eyes. My relationship with my Mom is often a huge role reversal. She is very dependent on me for things- company, rides, favors, etc. I wish I had more fotitude in this department, because taking care of her really took over my life. At the time, I was on six weeks of medical disibility, trying to recover from developing ketosis. I was pretty sick at the time. As soon as she came home, her broken leg took over the entire universe and everyone in it. I should have been more supportive, because I can only imagine the magnitude of the pain she was in, the adjustment to being immobile, the emotional backlash of being so dependent on other people and the cabin fever of not particularly being able to leave the house.

On the other hand, she refused to learn how to use her crutches, and opted to use the steel walker that made an ominous clanging noise when she used it that made my soul shrivel in horror. She required me to stay home most of the day to make the food for everyone, do the chores, do the grocery shopping for everyone, then take care of her (i.e. laundry, help her bathe, etc) and then stay up late and keep her company when she was lonely or bored. And my god, she wanted something every ten seconds. I mean it. She’d want a glass of water, and then a snack, and then something to read, and then she’d have to pee, and then she’d need help getting to and from the bathroom, and then she’d have trouble getting comfortable and need to be repositioned on the couch, and then the dog would need to pee, and then she’d get hungry and want to eat, and then she’d drop something on the floor and need me to come pick it up… just all day it was constantly having to do absolutely everything- it completely took over my life and I was then totally unable to concentrate on recovering and got violently sick. I was warned by my Doctors that if I didn’t stop looking after my Mom and take care of myself, I was going to be buried in my wedding dress. I feel even worse that her dependence on me didn’t stop with me- by extension she began to lean on John a lot– for the car. He was cheuffer to her, 24 hours a day, for the entire duration of my stay there.

After she was able to start returning to work- which (MY GOD) did not arrive nearly fast enough, I had to get up at 6am every morning, help her get ready, and take her wheelchair down the stairs. I was barely sleeping and then having to babysit her dog when she went to work. I do feel really badly, but my life came to a grinding halt for the time I lived with her. I was supposed to be taking care of myself and planning my wedding. The time down to the wire before our wedding had me up almost 24 hours a day finishing everything and taking care of my Mom. I almost never slept- which only set my health back further. I dropped weight really fast again, which was pretty alarming. I developed a nasty heart condition called Inappropriate Sinus Tachycardia. There is still no precise word on what caused it, other than ‘complications from diabetes’, but I am only ever symptomatic when I am sick.

I was thrilled to move back in with John. But there is something to be said of living on my own terms (mostly). I like the personal freedom of dictating my space and how I can conduct myself inside it. I haven’t had the authority to live that way… almost ever, in all my life. Even when I lived in Vancouver, a lot of how my apartment was dictated was not governed by me, though it was probably the closest I ever got after I left home. I guess sometimes I wish I had ever been able to afford to live alone. I would have been thrilled with a bachelor suite. I actually viewed a bachelor suite apartment once, that had a bathroom and full kitchen. For $500 a month– if I were single and making enough money- I would worship that apartment and making it my temple. Is it sad that I fantasize about this apartment sometimes?

Anyhow, things with my Mom were rough for awhile. Though we were both willing to put our differences about the experience of her recovery behind us, a year later she still complains about how much pain it gives her, and tells the story to anyone who will listen, at length. I can literally see the light disappear from the eyes of the people who are subjected to it. My in-Laws find my Mom high-maintenance, and a bit disingenuous. As it has often been said: “I can only take your Mother in small doses, and your Mother does not come in small doses.”

Anyhow, I will eventually get us to current- I have simply lost my ability to continue. I’ve been writing this for days. O_O”

K.M.

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~ by Kд§$ị (ИovΔ) on 02/12/2011.

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