I am feeling disturbed. Yes, I know, the video above is the Sound of Silence by Disturbed, which is probably overplayed but I care not. I love it. And I also love the original. But today this is what I want. That type of intensity that Simon and Garfunkel could never give. They give me other stuff for another time.
I needed another walk today. Had another sleepless night. I swear, once all my mother-in-law shit is taken care of and my house has a “For Sale” sign, better yet, is SOLD, will I please, PLEASE sleep through the night? I won’t be greedy… just a 6-hour stretch once in a blue moon without the need for any little sleeping or anti-anxiety pill. Thank you, Universe. I’m counting on you.
By the time I get my arse into gear, it is at least 1:30 pm. No matter. Time to get out!
Zeke and I made our way towards “my river”. As we crossed the end of my street, less than a kilometre from home, we were hailed by Roxanne. Lordy… When I saw her last summer, she was toting a little boy in a child’s seat on her bike. A third son. Today I found out the twins (I swear, born last year), Laurent and Logan are now 3 1/2 and Shawn (I didn’t ask the spelling) is going to be 2 on none other than my birthday! How did that happen? No, not my birthday date, the boys being so big so quickly. We chatted, laughed with her mother (only 6 years older than me? Wha??) who, I found out, has been divorced these past 5 years and thinks the dating life is over. Um. No. Lady… get out there! I told her she was the same age as my beau will be… Life is NOT over by a long-shot. Gawd. I hope I don’t get old before my time.
Kiss, kiss, and off to continue my walk. I had been disturbed in my thought-process but not in a bad way nor by a long shot. Was really nice to hook up with Roxanne. Seriously. She lives across the end of my street. Life and all that.
I’m not yet feeling totally at one with the Universe when my cell rings. Ugh. Jean. (Mother-in-law).
“Is this Dale?”
“Yes, Jean, it is Dale.”
And then she starts. “It’s your fault I’m in the hospital.”
“You’re not in the hospital, Jean, you’re in a home”
“Yes, it’s the third floor of the Jewish!”
“No, it’s the 3rd flo–”
“What did you do to make me come here? I want to go home. You have to get me out of here. You put me here. You are so mean.”
I try to interject but frankly, she is not listening to me. Doesn’t really matter what I say because she is totally convinced.
“The people here told me you put me in this place.”
I know she has dementia. I know she is still in early stages so has moments of lucidity. It doesn’t matter at all what I say because none of it will register. Well, funnily enough, just like she was for the last 20 or so years, she registers what she wants to at times, I swear. She was so aggressive, it took everything in my power not to tell her to take a long walk off a short pier. Instead, I listened to her. She complained I never visit. I reminded her that I see her minimum twice per month whereas before we saw each other once per year. Then her tone totally changed and she asked when I would come and visit her. I said “tomorrow” and she said “ok”. Tomorrow will be Monday because I can’t really tomorrow, nor this week-end. It won’t matter. I’ll call her to say hello and she’ll ask me when I’ll come and visit her. And I will say “tomorrow” and she will say “ok”. I hang up and try to shake off the unpleasant feeling that has re-taken over my body.
We arrive at des Iles Percées park and I gaze at the marcescent oak trees. There are two of them in this park. Why do they keep their leaves in winter? I’ve googled it more than once. There is no official reason that can be proven but there are a lot of hypotheses. Though other types do so also, it is more of an “oak thing”. Year after year, these two oaks refuse to drop their leaves. At this point, I’m thinking I will write a post linking my mother-in-law’s memory loss with these trees. So many memories are still stuck to her but others flutter to the ground with the slightest gust of wind. It is so hard. I can’t even imagine what she is going through. I so hope I never do. It is a scary thought as there is Alzheimer’s in my family. My great-grandmother and one of my great-aunts had/have it. My uncles died too young to know if they would have, my aunt, who just passed at age 81 had no signs and my aunt and mother seem to be ok. I’ll be exempt. Right?
As Zeke and I finally reach the park where I discovered “my” river, I’m feeling myself again. The closer we get, the more I hear the kids yelling. Dang. It must be recess. I choose to go to the west (I think!) bank of the river to avoid them. Zeke loves kids and I don’t want to have to leash him. Walking through the dirty sno-cone-textured snow, I’m thinking I have the wrong boots. Some of it makes its way in. I let it melt. I then, however, carefully place my feet in the already sunken steps taken by another (who hopefully had higher boots than I!) I tried to capture the texture of the snow…sorry! So hard to get a good pic on this sunless day!
Dirty Snow Cone
I hear the bell as we approach the river and think, Yay, recess is over! Nope. Somehow it was the official recess start bell so the rest of the kids came out. We remained on the west side for a bit. The sound of a river flowing is so soothing to me. I took a video (shared on Instagram) and this great pic of Zeke waiting patiently for me.
Love using filters
Patience, Iago, Patience
We walk all the way to the end and turn back. The recess bell rings once again so we make our way across the little bridges and onto the east side. Why do I insist on coming to this side? Because it’s nicer! I so enjoy taking pictures of this little river. OK. OK! It’s just a stream! Still… It is called Ruisseau Sabrevois and goes through Parc Bois de Brouage, next to the de la Broquerie School. But for all intents and purposes, I shall continue to call it “My river”, OK? OK. Where was I? Yes, on the east side. For some strange reason, the water sounds so much more thunderous on this side. Drowns out any and all thoughts as I sit there, in that sno-cone snow, getting wetter and wetter (thank goodness for snowpants, is all I can say) and feeling freer and freer.
Before the wet seeps all the way through, I decide it’s time to make my way back. By now I am feeling centred once again. Leftover pici, a quick shower and a Skype chat with Rochelle and I sit down to write this post! Iain announces he will make supper but “snacks” at 5:00 pm with a Kimchi bowl and a Ristorante pizza. Right. And what the hell time will he be ready for supper? (Really, Rog? You had a bowl of pasta at like, 3:00 pm? You can’t be in any rush to eat supper, can you?)
So, here I am, just before 7:00 pm, writing this post when my cell rings. It’s my neighbour’s (ok, 5 houses down, neighbour) alarm company telling me they are dispatching a police cruiser as their alarm went off. I tell them I shall go see what’s up and let them know. Right. Put on my boots and coat, grab their house key and off I go. Waitaminute… is that wise? What if there IS someone in the house? Who am I to go snooping? OK. Breathe. This is CANADA. I get there, the house is dark and silent. I open the gate to the backyard, see no footprints towards the back door. I call the company and tell them all is quiet and ask should I go in? Get some inane, “Well, should we cancel the police?” answer. How the fuck should I know? I decide to put my on big-girl pants and open the door, turn off the alarm and go in. All is quiet. A walk around the main floor confirms there is nothing to worry about. Hey, did the grandkids put all those stickers on the patio door? Cute. Gonna have to mention it to Parvin. I tell the dispatcher to cancel the police, reset the alarm, lock up and leave. False alarm. I can breathe.
Get home and realise that Iain is too busy chilling with Luca so I make a quick pasta using his sauce. Add some pancetta, chopped veg, his sauce and toss with pasta shells. Voilà! Supper at “l’heure des riches” (Rich people time) at 8:00 pm!
Come back to my post but end up chatting with my new buddy Marc(o) from Sorryless. We have become fast friends (thank you, Frank!) and chat about anything and everything. He writes divinely and is very encouraging to me as well as being just the right amount of nudge. Yes, I will find someone to tape my cooking videos!
The day has come to a close, it is almost midnight. I don’t feel as disturbed and maybe I’m not fully centred but I am definitely working my way towards it.