FAREWELL VICTORIA!

I have lived in twenty towns/cities/military bases, in five countries, during my fifty two years of life.  I have left many homes behind.  I've known the trepidation of beginning again in a new environment, the frustration of searching, yet again, for new childcare, doctor and hair dresser (essentials wherever one lives!), and the loneliness of being, once again, the new kid in town. 

The result of this nomadic lifestyle is a phenomenon that occurs every four to five years.  My ears tune into conversations about distant places, my eyes notice every moving van in the neighbourhood, my feet start a restless dance and my heart beats faster in anticipation of a major change in my life.  I don't know what it feels like to have roots, to have a hometown, or friends who have known me all my life.

I first moved to Victoria in 1972 when I was not quite fourteen years old; the move was the most difficult one I made with my parents.  I was at that awkward, adolescent age and was moving from a small military base in northern New Brunswick where my peers were accustomed to new kids in their school every fall to a city on the other side of the country, in a province I knew nothing about, where most of my new classmates had known each other since kindergarten.  My first year in Victoria was a lonely one and I spent a lot of time by myself exploring the beaches and coves near my house.  This is when my love of the ocean was born and this is when, as I walked down Head Street on my way home from school every day, I fell in love with the mountains. 

When I left Victoria five years later to live and travel in Britain I was sad to say goodbye to family and friends but didn't feel any particular connection to the city I was leaving.  As the years passed, however, I realized that Victoria was the closest I had ever come to having a hometown.  I found that I could still picture the beautiful sight of the Parliament Buildings lit up at night that I could see from my bedroom window, I could hear the sound of the foghorn, could almost smell the ocean, missed the majestic mountains I had taken for granted.  I had come of age here; gotten my first job, kissed (really kissed!) my first boy, graduated from high school, left home to venture out on my own.  The house on Anson Street, in Esquimalt, was the last home I shared with my parents.  As the years passed and I continued to move from place to place, buried my parents and older sister, married and divorced, and raised my 3 daughters, I often thought of this beautiful city.  After a brief stint teaching English in Oman in the fall of 2005 I found myself back in Edmonton, the city I had moved my daughters and I to in 2001 in the hope of finding work as a teacher.  My short stay in Oman had brought home to me how much I missed the ocean and the mountains so I said to myself "You need to find a job and a place to live anyway, why not go back to Victoria?  You know you've always wanted to."

And so, I came back.  Five years ago I thought coming here was about returning home, and maybe putting down roots.  I hoped to connect with friends from my past, people who knew the me I used to be.  Instead, I made new friends, people who helped point me toward a path I still need to walk.  I'm not ready to put down roots yet - there is still a lot of traveling I want to do, many things I need to experience.

Now I am leaving again. This time it wasn't just hard saying goodbye to family and friends.  This time I found it really difficult to leave this beautiful city.  I didn't want to get onto the highway that would bring me up island where I am staying until I leave Canada.  I drove around for quite awhile saying a silent farewell to my favourite places, soaking up the magnificent view of ocean and snow-capped mountains, smelling the salty air, listening to the cry of the seagulls(who usually just annoy me because they are loud and crap all over my car!), wondering when I will be back in this city I have come to love so much.  I don't ever remember my heart feeling so heavy about leaving a place.  I am excited about the prospect of spending the next 3-5 years following my passions of teaching, traveling and writing but I am really going to miss Victoria.

DEAREST DELILAH

Some people are huggers - some people aren't. Delilah is a hugger - I'm not(except with my girls, or after a long acquaintance).  Delilah quickly stepped through my walls - I learned to let her in.  Some goodbyes are quick and relatively painless - you blink back the tears and bluff your way through.  I've done that a few times over the past fortnight - I knew I wouldn't get off that easily when I said goodbye to Delilah.  We've shared too much over the past five years - joy, pain, grief, laughter, secret hopes and dreams, fears and worries.  The upside of letting someone get so close to you is having a friend who understands and knows you - and loves you anyway.  The downside is watching her walk away, knowing she's hurting, and not knowing how the years will treat her between now and when we next meet.  I freaking hate goodbyes!  I'm going to miss you, friend!  I love you, girl, and I will keep in touch.  I will see you again!

MATES, MOVIES & MARTINIS

I survived another "Until We Meet Again" -  this time with two friends I met through the social group. We've shared good food and wine, interesting conversations, friendship, and a lot of laughter.  My favourite get-togethers involved movies that not only entertained but engaged and challenged us and Diane's famous martinis(tasty but deadly-my limit appears to be two!).  I raise my glass to you Diane and Elaine - here's to movies, martinis, and 2 great mates! 

CIRCLE OF FRIENDS

Another day of goodbyes - and I so hate goodbyes.  This time it was a BBQ to celebrate the fifth anniversary of the second group I reached out to 5 years ago when I was alone and lonely in this beautiful city on the sea.  It seems a lifetime ago since I took those first tentative steps toward the group; a lone wolf seeking the warmth and comfort of a pack.  Social interaction, as the founder of the original group knew, is essential to our mental and emotional well-being.  It is almost instinctual for us to reach out, to seek contact with others. After six months of working 2 jobs I hated and coming home every day to an empty apartment I recognized that not interacting with people was seriously affecting me; I was slipping into depression.  I knew I had to step outside my comfort zone and initiate contact with people. Tonight as I sat in the beautiful yard of one of our members enjoying good food and wine, participating in great conversations and sharing memories of past gatherings I was filled with a deep sense of gratitude, and of sadness.  I am grateful for all the experiences I have enjoyed; walks and dinners, croquet and board games, potlucks and laughter.  I am sad to be leaving this eclectic mix of dynamic people.  I want to thank them for welcoming me into their homes and hearts, for the grace of their friendship, for contributing to my social wellness!  I hate goodbyes, so I'm not saying goodbye; I'm saying "Until we meet again!"

WILD, WISE, WONDERFUL WOMEM

This morning I went to my last meeting of the women's group I've belonged to for almost 5 years, followed by a potluck lunch in the beautiful garden of one of the members.  When I first moved to Victoria I felt very isolated and very in need of human interaction so I - the consummate non-joiner - joined a social group and a group for women over 50.  At the time I was a few months away from my 48th birthday-but I was desperate and the women were unsuspecting-thank the gods!  A few months ago I wrote a poem to tell these amazing women what they mean to me and how much they have helped me these past years.  This poem is my tribute to them.

WILD, WISE, WONDERFUL WOMEN

I'm a joker not a joiner, leader not a lackey, guarded about gals who gather in groups, a woman wary of women.

Encountering back-stabbing belles, blatant in their bitchiness, destructive dames denying dignity; I was repelled, retreated.

Yet I was locked in loneliness, suffering in silence, driven to despair. I had to hear human voices, needed to be known.

To save my sanity I stepped outside my safety zone, came to sit amongst them, stranger sitting in silence, seed in search of sun.

Into the safety of the circle I settled; welcomed, warmed; I laughed, lamented, listened and learned from the wisdom of these women.

Their lives have been diverse, difficult, demanding,despairing, at times disabling, and yet, in the end, they have not been defeated.

Their lives have been joyous, gentle, generous, gregarious, giving and gallant; the giggling girl inside their hearts still lives, still strong.

Wonderful women spending sunny, soaking or shivery Saturdays sharing stories and strengths, shame and sorrow, hardship and hope.

I have been witness to women's strength, have watched weariness overwhelm them, have extended empathy and at times subtly sought support.

Their influence on me has been profound; their words and wisdom educating, enlightening, empowering and inspiring me.

I have listened to these women talk of abuse and abandonment, death and divorce, faltering and failing, trials and triumphs.

I have seen anger and acceptance, caring and compassion, have witnessed resistance and resilience, toughness and tenderness.

I have learned about allowing and accepting, bonding and boundaries, forgiving and forgetting, latching on and letting go.

I have grown, stumbled upon sisterhood, perceived passions, learned to honour my woman's heart, stride surely toward a future once feared.

I am mystified, moved, motivated, made powerful, by these mighty, marvellous, memorable, magnificent matriarchs.

TO THE JAMES BAY WOMEN'S GROUP, WITH LOVE & GRATITUDE

PETS & PANIC

I knew this move was going too smoothly.  The packing was going according to plan and I wasn't feeling overwhelmed by it.   I had found a reasonably priced storage unit run by a woman I trust to store my belongings while I'm gone.  Friends of my youngest daughter were going to take(read carry down two flights of stairs!) the rest of my furniture and bits and pieces off my hands.  I had originally thought my cat would go to my ex's(where my 2nd daughter has been living while going to the University of Winnipeg and where my youngest will live when she starts at the same university next year), but then he got a dog(there was already a cat in residence), so Sasha was only welcome as a last resort-fair enough.  My advertisement for a home for my "sassy but affectionate gray tabby"  was answered by a young woman who seemed sincere-problem solved.  My car had been advertised for sale for three months without any bites(unless you count the 3 scam artists who contacted me via my Auto Trader ad!), but I wasn't letting that get me too stressed out.

In fact I thought my stress level was pretty was good considering everything that's going on in my life right now.  I started to get a little anxious when the woman who had said she was going to take Sasha stopped replying to my emails, but convinced myself it was just because she was busy(having just moved here, new job, etc.).  I got really anxious when I finally realized she had stopped communicating with me because she didn't have the ovaries to tell me she had changed her mind about giving Sasha a home.  We were back to Plan A - the cat would go to Winnipeg.  No big deal - it was only $50 to send her on the plane and I bought a second hand carrier for $15.  Unfortunately we arrived back at Plan A a little late-thanks to the woman with no ovaries.  I dropped my 2nd daughter off at the airport for her flight to Winnipeg on Monday; Sasha could have gone with her for only $50, if I'd known then that Plan B was out the window.  When I phoned the airport yesterday I was told that to fly Sasha to Winnipeg unaccompanied would cost $180!!  I do not undersstand how the airport can justify such a difference in price-and telling me that the cat has to be picked up at the cargo warehouse instead of at the baggage claim-a difference of a two minute walk-doesn't cut it with me.  This is the first time in years of traveling with West Jet that I am completely disgruntled with them.  To make matters worse, I was told that if Sasha's carrier didn't meet the requirements the cargo personnel could refuse to take her.  I was worried the carrier was too small so I shoved her into it(there's no nicer way to describe it-she was not impressed and I didn't want to get scratched!), grabbed a friend for moral support and drove out to the airport.  Yup-it was too small, so after dropping my friend off I made a quick stop at Walmart and bought a bigger one-more $$!

By this point my stress level had risen significantly and panic had a grip on me.  The rest of the day wasn't much better. One of Jordyn's friends and one parent came over to pack up some stuff and load up a couple of pieces of furniture; I was expecting more bodies so did more hauling and walking up and down stairs than anticipated.  I was disappointed to hear there is a lot of furniture they aren't taking-more panic rising-how was I going to get rid of it?  A friend and her husband came by and took my desktop computer and some food off my hands, but I was getting more panicky as I realized just how much stuff is left in here that I have to clear out before I can even begin cleaning this place.  The thought of cleaning this whole apartment was really stressing me out by this point.

After everyone left I took some deep breaths and calmed myself down; everything will come together-eventually.  If I have to I will hire someone to haul away any furniture that isn't taken by my daughter's friends; it's an expense I'm willing to pay. I do not want to haul furniture down two flights of stairs(hauled most of it up and it was NOT fun!) and I do not want to presume on the boundaries of friendship and ask anyone to help me.  I have reached the point where I'm thinking that if I get my security deposit back-bonus!  I'm not going to get stressed or break my back cleaning this place for the sake of a few hundred dollars.

Most important of all I've let go of the stress-and anger-I was feeling about the situation with my cat.  I sent a nasty email to that woman in the heat of the moment-felt the need to vent and tell her the stress she'd caused, but now I feel badly that I've added to the stress of her situation.  This has become an expensive venture but has actually turned out for the best.  I know Sasha is going to a good home, she's going to be with people she knows,people who love her.   There is a chance this is not our last goodbye and that I will see her again.  When I first moved to this beautiful city 5 years ago I was working 2 jobs I hated and coming home everyday to an empty apartment.  When my daughter came to visit and brought Sasha back to me(after an absence of 8 months while I was on the move) my life changed completely; I looked forward to coming home because I knew their was someone there waiting for me.  There was a living, breathing, being who cared whether I walked in that door every day.  There was a sandpaper tongue to lick my face, teeth to playfully bite me and a warm body to snuggle up to me at night.  I wasn't alone.  I'm sorry for all the moves you've gone through the past few years, Sasha, and I'm sorry I'm going to put you back into a cage in 2 days and put you through the ordeal of a flight to Winnipeg.  But I'm so glad I've had you with me these last 4 years-thank you, girl.  I'm going to miss you!  Panic has passed.  Pet is leaving-but will always be loved, and will never be forgotten.

EMPTY NEST

Wait - don't go- I'm not ready!
I didn't - say all the words I meant to say, teach all the lessons I meant to teach...
I haven't - taught you how to cook all your favourite recipes...
I forgot - to show you how to iron and how to hem your jeans...
You aren't - even eighteen years old yet!
You can't - begin to imagine all the things that might go horribly wrong - but I can.
You shouldn't - ever be afraid to try, to fail, or to come home.
Please don't - ever be cavalier about your safety - don't trust that handsome stranger, walk down that dark
                      alley alone, leave your drink unattended...
But wait - just one more kiss!
Wait - just one more hug!
Wait - just one more glimpse of your beautiful face before you turn and walk away!
Wait,
Wait,
Oh no - it happened too fast - again!
It's too late - you're gone!
My baby birds have all flown the nest.
Fly, my beautiful ones -  soar to majestic heights.
You may not see the net below you - but it is there.  I will always be here to catch you if you fall!
I love you all - around the world and back again, to infinity and beyond!

Boxes & Blogs

Life after children may not be all that it's cracked up to be.  They certainly would have come in handy to help me set up this binary log!  But they've all flown the coop so I'm blundering my way through.

After a day of packing and downsizing(finally threw out the pair of size 8 jeans I've accepted I'll never fit into again) I'm sitting here with a drink on the table beside me and a computer on my lap.  I could never have pictured this scene when I started raising my children 26 years ago.  Actually, I could have pictured the drink-I often told my children they were driving me to it!- but not this casual use of a technology that has confused and frustrated me for over 20 years.

So, this is where I am; closing a chapter of my life, 26 1/2 years of raising children.  They have been the most intense, most difficult, most rewarding, most joyful years of my life.  I wouldn't change them for all the tea in China, or all the diamonds in Africa.  I will be a parent until my death and beyond, but I am finished raising children-yipee!

I'm starting a journey.  I'm going to find myself, follow my heart, live my passions.  It's time to start doing all the things I've been telling my girls to do for years.  It's time to put my money where my mouth is!  I'm scared, but I'm really excited too!