This Christmas is our first without dad. The role of family peace maker or go between has fallen to my husband in dad’s absence.

Mom arrived earlier in the week and, as expected, there have been moments of tension. I need to work harder to keep my emotions in keel. I know I have a habit of shutting off and pushing people out at times. You know that old idiom “if you can’t say something nice…?”, that’s why I tend to shut down and walk away. It seems to me that life would be easier if I didn’t say what I wanted to or do what I wanted to all the time. I have no idea how I’ll survive mom’s visit since there is just no way for me to please her…

Mom was reading a package from Hospice that discussed grieving and dealing with grief over the holidays. Apparently there was a section in the pamphlet containing suggestions for keeping a lost family member “alive” during Christmas. One of the things mentioned was to keep a stocking for the individual and have the children write letters to their parent. Mom’s determined that all of us will do this this year – and I’m really uncomfortable with it. I’m sure it’s comforting for some to write letters to their deceased parents or siblings but based on my emotional and physical reaction when I just think about the concept, I know that this is likely going to cause a lot of friction when the stockings are filled later tonight.

Since I know there’s absolutely no way to make my mother understand my point of view, I know that I’ll end up doing it just to make her happy. Then, I’ll end up angry and resentful and my husband will need to step in and place peace keeper between the two of us for the rest of the time she’s visiting us. Welcome to Christmas at our house.

Here’s wishing you and yours a merry, love-filled, and relaxing Christmas where everyone’s needs are met.

Technorati Tags: Christmas, traditions, stockings, grieving

A few months back our puppy sitters’ pipes burst in their basement. Since one half of the dynamic duo was out of the city at the time, the hubby was called in to help out. Tonight the favour was repaid in spades.

I should have known it was going to be one of those days. Last night I was on conference calls until midnight and had to be up again at six am for the next round of calls. It’s been brutally cold these past few days and it seemed as if the snow would never stop falling. I went to bed knowing I’d have to shovel out and praying the truck would start (I forgot to plug it in last night).

It was still snowing in the morning, so I headed home while it was still light out in order to continue the shoveling odyssey.

Things seemed to be looking up.

I planned on napping before a late night conference call but when I finally got into the house I discovered a pipe had burst under the sink. Of course the hubby is out of town. A quick call to the puppy sitters later and I was romping around the house looking for water shut off valves. Despite being able to find them, I wasn’t able to turn the shut off valve. Yep, I’m a wuss.

Like a night in shining armour, he descended on the house and wrassled with the shut off valve until we manged to stop the bleeding. Luckily for me, the house is plumbed in such a way that the water could be turned off to the sink, dishwasher, washing machine and garberator without affecting the water in the rest of the house. It’s a woman’s fantasy – the dishes and laundry can’t be done, but there’s more than enough water to fill the jacuzzi tub.

It was too late to make a trip to Home Depot or Rona tonight so that’s scheduled for tomorrow. Soon my sink will be fixed but in the mean time I can bask in the knowledge that I no longer have to empty water buckets under the sink every 20 minutes.

Technorati Tags: burst pipes, cold, shoveling, snow, friends, friendship

I have come to the not-so-amazing conclusion that personal blogs function very well as a form of therapy.

It’s been two months since my dad died. Time seems to fly and yet parts of my life seem to have stopped like a broken clock waiting for repair.

I’ve found that while I can’t really talk about the death of my father with many people face to face. I’m able to talk to my mom, sister or a few other family members. I can’t discuss it with my best friend or even strangers at this point. What I am able to do is write down my memories, happiness, anger, and explore my pain via blogging. It’s a purely selfish action on my part. While writing I can separate myself from the giant lump in my throat that always seems to appear the minute anyone mentions my dad or my loss.

To be honest, I don’t really know how to carry on a conversation with friends, strangers and acquaintences when it comes to my dad’s death. I adored my dad. I guess you could say I had a bad case of hero worship when it come to thinking of him in the past 10-15 years. Most of what I’ve grown up to be can be attributed in some way to the lessons he taught me as a child. Once out of my ugly angst filled teen-age years I really began to appreciate my dad. Unfortunately, I never really took the time to tell him how important he was to me and the person I became until I was too late.

It has forced me to accept – if nothing else – that I need to take more time to let those close to me know that they are loved and appreciated. I don’t feel much like sending Christmas cards this season but I can make the effort to call those we care about. When I’m more myself, I have a tonne of letters to write to friends and family who helped out in those last few months. Societal courtesies take a back seat to my pain at the moment.

Mom is spending the holiday season with us and will be arriving in less than a month. It would be nice if my sister will make the trip to Edmonton as well – we’ll have to wait and see what she decides.

Until then, I’ll continue to take a seat at the blog therapy table.

Technorati Tags: death, mourning, pain, therapy, blogging, catharsis,

When I was a child, time seemed to drag. I was desperate to be older and birthdays were a thrill. The lazy days of summer were a time to explore the neighbourhood and my own abilities. Swimming and tennis lessons, cycling, dance classes, road hockey, playing tag from morning until night. By the time school started, I was sick of the time off and desperate to get back into the classroom.

I remember university much in the same manner. Time passed slowly, as if I were running through puddles of glue.

Somewhere along the way – early to mid 20’s I expect – time seemed to start whizzing by. I’m sure it coincides with leaving academics to work full-time. Blink and your next birthday was around the corner. Sneeze and you missed an important moment in a loved one’s life. Before I knew it I was celebrating my 5 year anniversary. Next time I looked up from the grindstone it was anniversary number 9. We slid into our 30’s barely remembering where the time went. It seems like only days ago that I boarded a plane to Manila but months have passed.

Dad died a month ago today. Bits and pieces of my life are starting to slot back into place. I’m back at work and starting to socialize with friends again. The hubby and I are starting to slide into old and familiar routines. Soon it will be Christmas. The pain is as fresh as it was in the beginning. Time continues to rush past but I’m learning that you can’t rush grieving and healing.

I miss my dad.

Technorati Tags: ime, death, grief, childhood, healing