Getting My Sea Legs Again

I've been very intensively immersed in my dad's end-of-life transition for the past few weeks. I had to call upon my inner Spartan warrior to get through a lot of it. So today I found myself surfacing from the whole experience, as though the ground heaved and dipped beneath me. I needed to gain my sea legs again.

I needed to go by the water. Whatever ails me, if I can go and look out over a large body of water - preferably the ocean - my soul is soothed and my equilibrium returns. Luckily for me, the hospital where my dad passed away looked out over the harbour. When things got heavy, I found myself looking out the window to that blue pulse of energy. And on the morning he died, there was a lovely sunrise sparkling on the water.

The morning of his burial, we had strong winds and snow flurries. When we gathered at the gravesite to say our final goodbyes, the wind gusted powerfully from Bedford Basin, buffeting each one of us like a back-slapping embrace. My uncle said he'd always think of my dad on a day like that.

Today it was deceptively sunny, masquerading as spring when scarves and mitts were still in order. But the promise of warmer days smiled through the sunshine. I spent some time this afternoon gazing out over a lake, feeling strength filter through me as I saw the surface shimmer.

The days ahead will unfold and I will rise to meet each one. When things seem to get too much for me, I'll take some time and go by the water. My energy will fill up like a well. The ground will seem more stable. I'll find my sea legs again along the shore.

Saying Goodbye

Thank you to everyone for your thoughts and prayers. I know they made a difference.

My dad passed away on Saturday morning, March 24th. Today we celebrated his life at a funeral mass, and laid him to rest at Fairview Cemetary. The wonderful thing about that is my dad's lifelong passion for all things Titanic. Fairview is where many of the Titanic passengers are buried. There's no better resting place for Dad than that.

I'll be more recovered in a few days. For now I'll share his obituary which appeared in Tuesday's paper.

PHILLIPS, Norman John Paul - 65, passed away Saturday, March 24, 2007, in the VG Site, QEII, Halifax, surrounded by his family. Born on December 29, 1941, in Campbellton, N.B., he was a son of the late Gabriel and Viola (Rattie) Phillips. Gregarious, fun loving and always happy to help, Norman leaves behind a family who knew how much he loved them and a wide circle of friends. He began his working life as a car mechanic and never lost his appreciation for cars. He used his varied skills during his 1960s tour of duty with the US Army, 2nd and 3rd Armored Division which he joined while living in Michigan. He taught soldiers to drive "deuce & 1/2" and five ton trucks in Germany, and served as a French-English translator while in France. Upon returning to Canada, Norman combined his passion for scuba diving with his mechanic skills, repairing scuba gear until he opened his own shop, Scotia Scuba and taught certified scuba diving. A car salesman for many years, Norman enjoyed meeting people, his most recent position being with the Commissionaires, shepherding cruise ship tourists at Pier 21. He was an avid photographer, a knowledgeable music lover, an agile jive dancer, and as always a Montreal Canadiens fan. His greatest joys were the smiles he saw on his loved ones faces. Norman is survived by his loving wife, Doris (Edh); daughters, Julia (Brad) and Michelle (Newt); stepchildren, Carla (Tom), Oregon; Brent, Oklahoma; Tony (Tracy), Calgary; Rhonda, Dartmouth; first wife, Paulette; sister, Loretta (Tim), Michigan. He was predeceased by sisters, Hughette and Suzanne; brother, Maurice. A celebration of his life will be held at 10 a.m. Thursday in St. Agnes Church, corner of Chebucto and Mumford Roads, Halifax, Father Williams officiating. Reception to follow in the church hall. Cremation has taken place under the care of Cole Harbour Funeral Home (462-5601.) Donations may be made to QEII Health Sciences Centre Palliative Care Department.
"God saw you getting tired and a cure was not to be. So He put His arms around you and whispered, "Come to me".
With tearful eyes we watched you, and saw you pass away.
Although we loved you dearly, we could not make you stay.
A golden heart stopped beating, hard-working hands at rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us He only takes the best."

Precious Friend

My heart can't find words
Your eyes fill with love
Your steps fall in with mine
My heartbeat lightens
You leave behind your day
Gather your own fear
You cross the threshold
Smile at my father
He reaches for your hand
Knowing for certain
He need never worry for me
With you there

Precious friend
The heart of the Happy Prince
The swallow who would not leave him
Nothing will stop the wave of loss
You merely place yourself
So my knees won't buckle

- Julia Smith

My Dad's Relationship to Optimism

"Is it compassion, or a morbid fascination with death that compels a medical oncologist to volunteer to predict how long his or her patient will live?" asks The Cheerful Oncologist in his Sept. 22, 2004 blog, "The Oncologist as Soothsayer".

"I personally have found it more helpful to use this occasion as a chance to sow encouragement, and shift the focus of all onto the life of the patient. It is easy to be the bearer of bad news in this world - but an oncologist should always carry the light of hope inside, and shine it on the cancer patient just when his or her world seems darkest."

My dad was moved into hospital care this morning despite having made arrangements to die at home. My sister came to get me on day two of my new job, and we went to my dad's apartment to wait with him and my step mom for the ambulance to arrive. His recent blood work showed very low hemoglobin and very high potassium levels. So off he went to the hospital.

My dad has been the sort of person to never see lemons, but lemonade. Last year when he had his initial diagnosis, his blinders-variety optimism really served him well. He had an excellent year and responded to treatment with flying colors.

The beginning of this year took some of the shine off of his personal view of the world. Getting the word that The End is Nigh can do that. Even to him. So today when Dad found himself being taken to the hospital, I could tell he felt his optimism had gone Elvis and left the building.

"Take a look at your relationship to optimism," says Helaine Iris in her Nov. 1, 2006 blog "A Downside to Optimism". "Ask yourself if you use optimism as a skim coat for denial, perhaps bordering on delusion. If so, find the perfect balance between staying positive yet not being afraid to look squarely at reality. In my experience I know that reality is always deal-able, it clearly may not be my preference in the moment, but life always turns out ok in the end - somehow."

By the time Dad got settled into his shared room and spoke with several doctors, his familiar fighting spirit was back. After all, would they bother bringing him in when beds are at a premium? His surgeon from last year popped in to see him and said Dad would get a "turbo tune-up." I think Dad's delusional optimism is contagious, even to the surgeon who had to back out of removing Dad's kidney last year because the snake-like tumor was wrapped around a main artery.

In the grand scheme of things, I like Dad's lemonade world. I'm going to pour me a tall glass, sit on the porch and sit awhile.

First Day at Pensions

Well, I've worked my first day at my new job. Although gluing two dozen envelopes and covering reception for an hour hardly constitutes work! Granted, the person who's supposed to train me for scanning wasn't in today. And the person who started training me for clerical support wasn't in last week, so she had some serious catching up to do this morning. She couldn't train me until after lunch.

So the morning was pretty slim in the old work department. I read through the step-by-step guide for the scanning program I'll be using, then I read through the bio for the provincial finance minister, since he's technically my boss and that was the only other thing on my desk.

I got introduced to everyone and taken on a tour of the office, which is very nicely situated. Very mod colors, well-designed cubicles, each with their own little locker and everything. After a year-and-a-half of shared workspace with a five-member team, it will be so nice to personalize my desk!

I was preparing myself for that wiped-out cranky feeling I usually get when I have to stretch my brain out of its normal patterns. Two jobs ago, my learning curve was like mountaineering. It was my second office job outside of retail and I found myself doing reconcilliations, generating legal documents and overseeing disbursements and deposits. All without a solid hold on Windows XP.

Then my last job at the registry of deeds had a three-week physical conditioning element where my eyes had to adjust to taking visual snapshots of 3600 PC screen images per day. Plus the learning curve of making quality control decisions for all of those images. The whole team felt like our synapses were going to explode by the end of the day when we first started.

So that's what I was gearing up for when I showed up at Pensions for my first day. Luckily I always carry my writing around with me. I got quite a bit of my own work done this morning. I wonder if that's the shape of things to come?

10 Favorite Books

I was popping around at a few blog sites yesterday and found Chris at Book-a-rama listing her ten favorite books (March 16th entry.) This was in response to another blogger, Kailana, wondering this very thing after reading the UK Guardian's top 100 list of books you can't live without.

http://chris-book-a-rama.blogspot.com/

At first I thought I'd have to take the day to think about it, but it took me all of ten minutes:

1 - THE HORSE AND HIS BOY from THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA series by C.S.Lewis. It's hard to pick any out from the series as a whole, but this one is really special to me. It includes a spoiled royal daughter who learns what life is like on the other side of the palace. My absolute favorite thing. This series was #33 on the UK Guardian list.
2 - THE SILVER CHAIR from the Narnia series. This one had issues of madness and was quite gothic.
3 - FARMER BOY by Laura Ingalls Wilder. For some reason I always went for the boy character POVs! He loved his family's horses and I shared his love.
4 - THE CRYSTAL CAVE by Mary Stewart. Her ultra-realistic Merlin character really did it for me. I found this book at a Christmas tea-and-sale when I was about 12, and images from this book have stayed with me for thirty years.
5 - DUNE by Frank Herbert. This one made me rethink my concept of organized religion, no less. And his image of a person's life-path/fate starting off as a giant round mosaic that narrows into a line as one moves forward and makes choices I've always kept in my mind. This was UK Guardian's #52 book.
6 - NINE PRINCES IN AMBER by Roger Zelazny. Really loved the concept of the True Amber, of which Earth is merely a shadow realm. And the morphing route back through all the shadows in order to return, plus the use of Tarot-like cards to shortcut through time and space. Plus walking the Pattern. Wow - makes me want to read it right now!
7 - TEMPTING FATE by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro. This was the first of her series that I read featuring the Count Saint-Germaine, a vampire who has to deal with the practical problems of eternal life. He's such a great character. Uber coolness but with a compassionate heart.
8 - DRACULA by Bram Stoker. When I read it I was already a vampire fan. I was constantly amazed at the compelling and riveting imagery, then reminded myself 'No wonder it's such a classic.' #72 on UK Guardian's list.
9 - THE WITCHING HOUR by Anne Rice. Loved the secret society that kept tabs on the activities of the supernatural.
10 - DEVILISH by Jo Beverley. This is part of a historical romance series by one of my favorite authors. The series follows the Malloren family, and the head of the family, Rothgar was in several books before he got his own story. He's such a dark, brooding character, taking coolness beyond James Bond territory, but in an 18th century kind of way.

So now I'll wonder the same thing. Favorite books, anyone?

Last Day at the Registry

A funny way to end my contract at Land Registration - I took the morning off because I had a doctor's appointment, plus I had to pick up prescriptions over at the Metropolitan Dispensary.

I only had the afternoon, which gave me precisely enough time to QC one book (that's quality control, as in look at every page of an 800-plus-page book of property deeds to make sure everything scanned okay), get 250 pages into the next one, copy down a few final names for my huge list I've kept over the past year-and-a-half (I've always collected names to use when I make up characters), and answer a few questions for the person taking over the property plans who I trained this week.

And of course I talked to my new supervisor, who wanted to go over a few final things before I get there next Monday. And said a few goodbyes, but not too many because I'll be keeping in touch with a lot of them.

It all went by very quickly, and before I knew it I was strolling along the harbour heading for the ferry. It's been a wonderful job, and I've worked with a great team.

But I'm grateful, very grateful to have found this new position at Pensions. At this moment I feel like the end of the "Mary Tyler Moore" opening credits. I'm tossing my hat up into the air, with "You're gonna make it after all" playing in the background.