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One of the hardest steps in the process to our airstream dream was we had to find a new home for mr kitty.

Taking him isn’t an option, he’s too much a wanderer, can’t imagine how to contain that when we aren’t in a fixed spot. Though my youngest would have kept him, we both decided downtown apartment life wasn’t a good option for him. 

I’m not a huge cat fan, but mr kitty captured my heart big time. Feeling rather sad this morning missing him biting my face to get me out of bed.

He was a cat with a huge character, more dog than cat (probably why he captured my heart). He use to come on walks with us, and has a million mr kitty stories to his name.

One of my favorite mr kitty stories is about him and jaynie.  The january before last i had the opportunity to adopt a rescue dane. She turned out to be quite vicious, so we ended up giving her back, but not before mr kitty had at her.

She had a thing for him,  i was trying to ease them both into a happy relationship, but when i was out of the house i would close him off in the basement for his own safety. Mr kitty doesn’t take being confined lightly, so was generally pissed off.

One night, after i had been out, i released him from the confines of the basement and went off to bed. Jaynie was at the bedside sleeping, all was dark. Suddenly i heard rather loud steps… stomp stomp stomp…  then all hell broke loose. Nightside table went a flying, dog was yelping, i could hear cat screaming. Mr kitty had actually decided to take matters into his own hands and deal with this 110 lb dog in his own way… a NIGHTIME AMBUSH…. YEEE HA!

The dog went flying out the room, and was huddled against the patio door in the office, desperatly trying to escape this mad cat who insisted on jumping on top of her with all nails flared.

Post that night, jaynie was under his spell, and she never tested him again.

mr kitty (or as dylan calls him, cat norris) ruled the roost with an iron fist, but a soft heart, and i for one will miss him dearly.

Haven’t been posting much, life is pretty hectic at the moment. Miss lazy sundays lounging in bed with my girl. Not a lot of time for mulling and pondering, just doing!

It’s been an interesting time, the contrasts are huge. A thousand details to take care of in order to divest ourselves of this life we lead. It’s amazing how much of an army it takes just to live. I really thought my life was simple. Little house, two grown boys who do their own thing, a sole person business out of my home… what could be simplier?

HA Instead there’s a big reality check happening, and am realizing that there’s a long way to go to that simple life! I do embrace and look forward to it. There’s a huge sense of freedom and relief that i imagine i will feel…as i’m feeling it already.

So to the right is what we are taking (minus the chair, plus a dog missing in the picture). That’s it, life whittled down to 10 or so bins. It’s going to be an interesting test in kim’s lifelong nature of keeping stuff. I look forward to the challenge! (i think!).

The process has brought to light something of interest. Previous to this i was not only the keeper of my precious stuff, i was somehow the keeper of the family stuff (probably self appointed).

Through grandparents passing on, parents moving to the west indies, and me the most stable in terms of  owning home ground, i seemed to amass all of the family “stuff” as well. What’s been brought to light, is my brother has somehow taken on that role, and is now i think officially the family keeper of stuff. WOW!

What’s also come to light is i can step away from the “responsible one” roll in said family. Who knew i could do that? I’m actually leaving town a few weeks before my mother has hip replacement surgery… guilt free. (Well as guilt free as kimi gets).

Not that i didn’ t have many moments of angst about  it. But i talked to my mother, then my sister called… she’s going to come down, and also my brother/wife are convincing me he and family will rally…. and i’m actually imagining that that’s ok.

SO i head off into the sunset guilt free…. WOW again. Maybe i’m just overwhelmed with all that’s going on, maybe i’ve lost my mind temporarily, maybe i’ll get an aftershock, or maybe just maybe.. pigs fly?

i once borrowed a dog from a women my girlfriend and i met at a bar.

she and my girl ended up together, i kept the dog.

14 years later, i still got the dog…

which as it turns out, was the best end of the deal… despite the fact that he’s neurotic, gaseous, and now deaf.

the end

 (nh.. if you are reading this, you know i’m joking, and you know i love you .. and you know murphy isn’t the best end of the deal really!)

smiles and laughter flowing along in the rivers of life

Having a great time in california (mostly have been posting on airstream dreaming about the trip)…. not sure i want to leave!

Apart from how beautiful and warm it is, the trip has been amazing for me in terms of seeing my girl so happy to be in the bosom of her family. Both her daughter and sister (plus niece/husband) are here, and here is a long way away from montreal. 

With all the change and loss in her life this past year, in the bosom is really what she’s needed. The trip has also been amazing for me in terms of having this opportunity to meet and get to know them, they are truly lovely people.  

Last night we did something i’ve never done, which was use a ouija board to see if we could connect with deb and her sister’s father (he died a few months ago in a terrible bicycle accident). They’ve both been going through their own grieving process, and part of the visit has been discussion around that. So her sister thought we should try to connect with him with the force of that joint energy.

It was pretty powerful in the end. I had no idea what to expect, what to draw on in this experience. But it didn’t matter, as it seemed as if the board had a mind of it’s own, and that seemed to come from the spirit of the dad.

There was certainly the feeling of a presence in the space. It didn’t feel “human” to me, but more a sense of energy. Initially the communication was confusing, but it built, definitely got more powerful towards the end, messages clearer.

it was a pretty unique experience to be sure.

My youngest has graduated cooking school!  WHooo Hoooo, next step find a job!

He’s off this am to pay the last of the tuition, which is partially coming out of a small amount he got from Peter’s estate. (thank you peter!)… on his way out he was yacking at me about what’s the best type of account to put the rest in so he can’t touch it.

Amazing how that growing up process happens… just when you think god, will he ever… he does, still amazes me! (it’s all relative of course). 

The other night we asked him to cook, and he made an amazing meal of rissoto, spicy chicken, fennel salad and sweet potato pie. The cutest part was when we went downstairs later to watch a movie, we found a paper where he had written down the “menu”…. awwww (he’s so hate to read this… good thing he doesn’t read my blog, i can brag and gush in peace)

Oldest son coming home tonight after a two week stay out west with my sister over xmas/new years. He managed to get snowboarding, so was a happy camper.

Having him away from home, and starting the airstream dreaming process about how life might look come the spring on the road, made me start to see that i’m ready to see him move into his own life and place.

He will be 27 this summer, and though that’s probably well beyond the age when most leave, for me it’s only now that i’m feeling that. We have such trouble communicating, with me in Ottawa, and him in montreal and out west in the past.. i’ve felt these past 3 years of full time living have given me a piece of him back.

I can only hope that in the future we will manage to find our way to a better communication with that kind of distance of living…. after all parents all over the world kick the fledglings out of the nest sometimes!

Think my party boy is actually growing up, how can that be? He’s been working at a real restaurent in the kitchen as part of a stage for school. Two weeks, peeling potatoes, shucking and washing oysters…. grunt work at best, all unpaid.

It’s a pretty sheeshy place, it’s going to look great on his cv, not to mention be an incredible experience for him. He’s been staying at pat’s appartment downtown, so i haven’t seen him for two weeks… have really missed him. He had been home for the weekend, but with his schedule and mine, we didn’t get too much of a chance to chat.

Last night he asked for a ride to the appartment with all his laundry etc, so i rousted myself out of my pj’s and took him… was really happy that i made that effort, as we had a great conversation along the way.

He’s been working really long hours, 8am to 3 at the restaurent, then from then to 9:30pm at school. On friday the school part (school is attached to a restaurent) was prepare and serve a supper for 60 people… that after working a 8 hour shift.

He was just flying high about the whole thing. Working hard, cooking hard, long days. He said he feels that this is so much a part of who he is, and so suits his personality… he’s meant to be in the kitchen and can’t get enough of it. He knows all the grunt work is simply part of proving yourself, and accepts all of it.

It feels good to hear that. As much as i believe in him, and have always known that he will find his way… he can get distracted by fun that one! Was lovely to listen to his dreams of travel, moving to a big city and experiencing life as a chef. The passion for cooking that he’s had since a child is deep in his blood, and it’s so wonderful to see that translate to a career.

We held Peter’s memorial over the weekend, it went really well. Though he probably wouldn’t have liked it much, a little too much for his humble self, think everyone else loved it. There were so many great words spoken about him, will likely put them here, as a keep sake.

I read a great poem, which i’ll also post, which lead into the part of the ceremony where peter was celebrated. After the last person spoke, these were my words: 

It’s been a wonderful day of celebrating Peter’s life. As a family, it’s wonderful to hear these thoughts and stories about him, a reflection of his way in the world.  

Peter was my uncle, my mother’s brother. When we were children, he was always the mysterious uncle, travelling to far off places… Russia, the congo, Washington… to us kids he was always very exotic.  Despite the distance he was a constant in our lives and dearly loved.
 It was as an adult I finally got to know him. For me it began with staying at his condominium during what became an annual summer trip to Toronto. Time with him became part of the bonus of the extended weekend`s activities. It was during these times that we really had time to talk, and open up about our lives, past and present.  That he shared himself with me, I will always treasure, he was a special and unique man in so many ways.
Though it’s true he had a wonderful career at CP, and was a companionate and dedicated volunteer at Casey House, what i want to speak about is his last journey.
As it turned out, it was likely one of the most important journeys of his lifetime.  My role in it was as co-power of attorney.  That role opened up a unique bond between he and i, one that will remain with me forever. 

Initially I was called to the hospital in mid April, where he had been rushed with what would be his final bout with pneumonia. It was terrifying to watch him struggle for breath, struggle to communicate, struggle to retain control.  What came out of that initial trip was the foundation for both of us the next few months of his journey. A journey that would keep me at his bedside for 48 days.

As in his life, what he wanted most was to remain present and in control every step of the way, no matter how difficult. My role was simple, to truly listen to that even when he or i got scared by the reality of what that meant. My role was to simply hold onto his hand and give him the calm he needed to get over each hurdle.

The journey turned out to be a long and tough one. Peter went through it with the most amazing grace, humility, strength, vulnerability and ultimately faith.

One of the biggest changes in him, was that of extreme vulnerability. Peter was always a self sufficient man, use to taking care of himself. Yet during this time he had to count on those around him to help him with the simplest of tasks. He learned to trust, welcome and accept that help. He opened up his heart and we all felt a deep connection in that time.

Then there was holding of his hand. It began with him finding comfort of a hand during the roughest times. But that holding of hand and the comfort he got out of that grew and grew. Hours upon hours of simply sitting holding onto him by his hands punctuated the days. When people would arrive, he would look deeply into their eyes, give a big smile and reach out for their hand.

As hard as it was for him to speak by then he seemed to develop a real need to communicate, talk, and share. In his darkest moments, what came out were the words. A sharing of himself, that was so precious to all around him.

Despite how hard those months were, he always retained his sense of wry humour, his curiosity about the world… his newspaper always at hand for those moments when he was able to focus.

In the end, everything was taken from him. Stripped down to just himself and the will to live. As hard as it was to watch, there was a beauty and grace about his process. As hard as it was to loose him, and most especially loose him in such suffering. To be present and with someone in the way he let me be at that time was a true gift he gave me.

I walk away a changed person.

laying under the silvery moon in a silvery cocoon

My sister’s here from germany with family for thanksgiving and Peter’s memorial on saturday. The week seems to have flown by too quickly. 

The boys cooked up a feast on thanksgiving, that their grandfather aka Grumpy would have been proud of. Turkey, stuffing, an amazing potato/sweet potato pie, beans, pumpkin soup, pumpkin pie (both from an acutal pumpkin… go figure!), home made humus, chocolate cake, key lime pie…. a feast i tell ya!

As a result of having my little suburban bungalow filled with people, my girl and i have been sleeping in the airstream for the week. It’s been truly lovely. Even though we aren’t quite done the reno’s, and we are still in the back yard, it’s still amazing to be semi  “living” the airstream dream. 

Laying there last night as the full moon shone in…. I still am constantly pinching myself.  Pictures up on flickr

Dylan got his first tatoo… my baby’s virginal skin.

As he’s studying to be a chef, he felt this was a good start to his tatoo collection. 

English translation: I cook for sex

Course that’s what he thinks it says, who knows since french is our other language!

peter died over night, peacefully. My mother was there, as was one of the caregivers who’ve been with him throughout. Am feeling a sense of relief and deep sadness. Trying to imagine him somewhere taking deep breaths of fresh fluffy air. one of the people i’ve been in communication with wrote a good article.