Annoyingly Positive

Today, Hans and I went to Swiss Chalet for lunch. For a pescatarian like me, it is an odd choice; however, I wanted Hans to try their limited-edition beef offerings. Predictably, Hans enjoyed his lunch. I tried to find some solace in the veggie potpie and failed miserably.

When we walked out, Hans said this to me:

Mom, you are cool. You don’t have a car to drive, and you don’t have a husband, and you are still happy.

I hope I captured his words accurately. He could have said something about lunch, but he chose to talk about a car that I can’t drive anyway. Maybe he missed his dad driving him around. 

In all fairness, we were walking to a TTC bus stop.

Hans and I have had many conversations since we moved into our apartment on November 1, 2022. Some of them were about nothing in particular. Others were very personal. But the boy always makes me smile. And he keeps me positive … some might even say that I have become somewhat annoyingly positive.

The Fifth Wheel

I spoke about my 4 friends in a post titled Friendships!, on April 22, 2014.

In the last 9-10 years, we have been communicating on an almost daily basis, and 3 years ago, we decided to have a reunion. It felt incredibly unbelievable as the 5 of us hadn’t been together since August 1995.

For the reunion, we were supposed to gather in this city, in the motherland, on July 1, 2023. Due to an airline issue, I reached last on July 4^th. It felt like “first to leave and last to arrive”. I left in 1992 and the 4 friends of mine left one by one afterwards, until only one remained in the motherland. It was great to see them. Yet, I felt like I didn’t belong. I felt like the fifth wheel. The 4 of them had this synergy that took them back to their youth and they reminisced of that time together. I wasn’t sure how I fit into this dynamic. Would I have felt in sync with them if I had arrived on time?!

Feeling like a fifth wheel took me back in time to 1993 when I met my first friend in Canada. She was my only friend for a few months. It was with her that I visited Fifth Wheel for the first time - it was a truck stop that served bottomless coffees and other delights. Mandy’s dad lived in Kingston and Fifth Wheel was on the way to his home. I only went to this funky restaurant with Mandy.

Maybe being a fifth wheel isn’t so bad. I decided to investigate why that truck stop was named such and found out right away that that truck stop and others named the same have been closed since September 2015. The investigation also took me down history lane to old horse-drawn carriages in the 1800s which had a fifth wheel. I won’t go into details here; however, I didn’t feel so bad calling myself the fifth wheel after my research.

I still feel bad that those truck stops don’t exist anymore. But I will never forget the time I spent at the Fifth Wheel with my first friend in Canada. She made me feel like I belonged in this beautiful country. After 30 years, I felt like a misfit in the motherland. I also realized that land is just land. It is our connections with people that make it home.

The never-ending Streaming

I wrote about The Blacklist on May 20,2020. I don’t know what I was thinking then, but I wrote Blacklist as “Black List” (I have fixed that since then!). It was a few days prior to that post that I watched the season 7 finale. After 3 years and a few weeks later, I am watching season 8 on Netflix. I did not think I could ever continue to watch from where I left off. I was so used to watching shows/series on network television. Now, all 9 seasons of The Blacklist can be watched within a few days if I chose to binge my way through them!

Streaming has changed the way people watch shows/series. I am not sure if it is good or bad. For me, I believe I that it hasn’t been so good. Some weekends have gone into watching 10 hours of a show that was dropped on a Friday. Sometimes that leads to ordering food on demand, and which eventually leads to me becoming the classic couch potato. But does this make me think twice when the next set of 10 episodes are dropped on a well-planned Friday? Nope!

I am not even sure why I am taking the time to write about streaming and the unfortunate effect it has had on my life?! I believe I am just happy that I am writing again, and the content is secondary at this point in time.

A Moment in Life

Sitting at McDonald's - enjoying an order of small fries with a habanero dip, and a small double double coffee. 

Watching the world go by.

Right across is a teenager texting away.

An older couple at the entrance.

The man's back is bent.

The woman has a walking stick.

He rushes to press the button, to open the door for her.

They walk in slowly.

Almost tempted to get up and give up a seat.

They look around and find a place to sit.

Caught between a youth and the aged.

Somewhere in between.

Alone and wondering.

Watching life go by.

Laundry on My Mind

I am a little particular when it comes to laundry.

A few months before Craigley and I separated, I was doing laundry and was reminded of a poem by John Dunne - it is about the mingling of blood in a flea. When I first read that poem, I marvelled at how romantic that sounded from a certain perspective. It all came back to me as I was doing laundry. I realized that a lack of romance is the death of a marriage. I had been washing Craigley’s clothes separately from mine - I didn’t even want our clothes mingling together in the washer!

Since November 1^st, 2022, Hans and I have been renting an apartment. My biggest struggle has been with the laundry situation. We have to wash our clothes in the same machines used by 100+ residents. It has been a little over 3 months and I am just easing into this situation. I feel like there is a lesson to be learned - like the universe is getting me to examine my life.

If there indeed was a flea that sucked on Craigley’s blood and then mine, would I have killed it with a vengeance just because I wouldn’t want the mingling of our bloods? Perhaps not! I look at ASid and Hans, and I see the best of Craigley and me in them. I see the lives we have created together.

That’s a good reminder that laundry is not life, it is just a process to transform dirty clothes into clean ones. Sometimes there is a metaphor to be found. Other times, I am probably trying too hard!

An Apt Dream

On November 1^st, Hans and I moved into our new home. That night, the first night, I had a strange dream.

I was sitting on a chair. I suddenly got up, and there were 2 of me! The one who got up, looked at the one still sitting, and went and sat on her lap and gave her a hug ... like a child would!

I woke up and immediately typed up the above few words. What I would like to believe is that the sitting Momley is my past - that Momley who was somehow content just sitting and doing nothing about her life; whose life had become a bad habit. The standing Momley is my present - that Momley who is ready to move forward and quit bad habits. Perhaps this Momley wanted the sitting one to know that she did alright!

Hans and I are on our way. 

Support Systems

We all feel pain at some point in our lives. We all feel it differently.

Right now, I am in a lot of pain. I have family and friends trying to help me cope with it. Some of them have said to call them anytime, day or night, and that they are there for me. I am appreciative of all the kind words and gestures.

What I am finding is that I have been the most open about my pain with one individual more than others. I made her acquaintance through work about 6 months ago. What makes her easy to share with is the fact that she endured a separation not too long ago. Her then husband waited until their youngest was off to university before he served her with papers. She said that it was the most painful time of her life. But she survived. This individual has become a symbol of hope for me. She has also become a friend. When I speak with her, I know she understands.

As I am typing this, I received a message from her: “Good things to come!”

To that end, Craigley must loom large as the biggest villain in my life. He has decent qualities that must be ignored for the greater good of my feelings. The more positive I feel about this separation, the better I can cope with it and come to terms with it. One day, the boys will read this post. They will understand.

Maybe we will all be able to forgive each other someday …