Petula Clark

As a postscript to my Alzheimer's post ....The $64000 dollar question is...Why do some folks have Alzheimer's and others don't? For an interesting interview with the 81 year old  Petula Clark, have a listen to Michael Enright's conversation on the Sunday Edition. She sounds great. Her hit "Downtown", was the first 45 I ever bought. She is still performing! And yes, only us old guys remember that expression...the sixty four thousand dollar question.

Too tired to talk on the bus

Ah, home sweet home! I have just returned from yet another trip to Peterborough and Toronto...our seventh trip to Peterborough since September. The purpose of this visit was to complete the process of settling Pat's mom into her new retirement home and to do the final cleanout of her old apartment. We also figured we had time for an overnight trip to Toronto to visit adorable Avery. What didn't figure into our plans was him being sick again. He was so lethargic (with another double ear infection) that I changed my plans and stayed in Toronto for an extra few days. Thankfully, on Monday he perked up and was active again; climbing up stairs and happily playing with his toys.

So on Tuesday, I found myself on a noon hour bus, feeling good about my visit, but looking forward to my own bed. Upon entering the bus I was pleased to see few fellow passengers. Everyone had their own seat! "Hurray!" I thought. "I can spread out, eat in peace and sleep comfortably." So I was in a pretty good mood as we travelled down the Don Valley to the 401. Silly me. I forgot we'd be stopping at the Scarborough Town Centre to pick up more passengers.

As we made our stop I looked out my window and counted only 5 new passengers. Almost all of us on the bus had 2 seats to ourselves. Just who was going to lose their private space? Longing for peace and quiet, I looked at my winter coat and purse on the empty seat beside me. What to do? Should I move it and make it easy for someone to sit down? Should I close my eyes amd pretend to sleep? Should I sit in that aisle seat, making it pretty well impossible for someone to crawl over me to the window seat? What was the best strategy?

When I'm on a city bus, it drives me crazy to see someone hog two seats when there are people standing. I have always wanted to say something like,"Excuse me. Can you please explain to me exactly why you think you are entitled to two seats when these people are standing? You must be very important." Not wanting to get punched on the bus, I have never really asked that question. Anyhow, my point is, I did not want to look like a seat hog so I picked my stuff off the extra seat and piled my coat and purse on top of the lunch and magazines on my lap. It made a pretty high pile. I could barely see over the top of it. Matters were made worse by the fact that the young woman in front of me had her seat fully reclined, leaving me precious little space.

The five new passengers entered the bus and started off down the aisle. First came three people travelling together who headed for the back of the bus. Next came a middle aged woman who walked very slowly and stopped at my seat. As she hesitated and looked around, I screamed in my head, "Keep moving. Keep moving". Magically, she moved on! And then came the last of them...an older Chinese woman. Again, she stopped at my empty seat and looked around, weighing her options. Again, in my selfish head, I screamed, "Don't stop. Keep moving." Alas, she sat down beside me. She then turned to me, flashed me the loveliest smile and said hi.

I scolded myself for my selfishness and resigned myself to a seat mate. I just hadn't bargained on this. I had been up early for many days and had counted on sleeping during this drive. I did not have the energy to make a new friend. On other occasions I have made more of an effort but this time, as we got back onto the 401, I buried my head in my magazine.

It was about fifteen minutes later that the noise started; a kind of rattling tin, engine sort of noise. It was loud and irritating. There would be no way to sleep with that racket. I looked around. No one else seemed bothered by this intrusion into an otherwise silent bus. The driver was encased in a plexiglass bubble and unable to hear the noise coming from the back left corner. Again, what to do? Should he be alerted? Was this a safety issue? How stupid would we all feel if the bus suddenly exploded and we had done nothing about this warning noise?

My seat mate and I both turned again to the direction of the noise. Then we started talking. I suggested that perhaps I should tell the driver. She was as concerned as I was and said it was easier for her to move so she went to the front and told him. He was not concerned; he said it was only the cover for an air conditioner unit, not a safety issue. And so we continued, with the offending noise. The ice had been broken and while I won't say we had an animated conversation, we did talk now and then and both enjoyed the spectacular scenery. It was a lovely sunny day with fresh snow on all the trees.

As we got closer to Ottawa we talked more; where we lived, where we had worked and our families. I was surprised when she asked if someone was picking me up at the bus station. I told her no, that I would take the city bus home.  She was silent after that, then pulled out her cell phone. After she finished her call she smiled and announced that her husband would drive me home! She had spoken in Chinese on the phone so I would not be dissappointed if her husband had said no. I was totally taken aback by her offer. Although I said it was not necessary she insisted that she would be pleased to drive me home because she had enjoyed our conversation so much.

As we drove into Ottawa, traffic was very congested on the 417. Near the station she said that she was a very practical person. The traffic was so bad that her husband would probably not arrive for some time. Therefore she would understand if I wanted to go ahead and take the bus, which would arrive much sooner. In the end, that is what I decided to do. Although I didn't end up in her car I was touched by her offer. I felt ashamed that I had almost denied her the seat beside me. She thanked me for the pleasure of my company!

And, so, I went home feeling tired and blessed. We had settled Rita into her new home as best we could, I had been able to stay with Avery to see the remarkable improvement in his energy level, I had a dinner out with Norah and then encountered this lovely woman, who gave me a valuable lesson with her gracious nature.  Life is indeed good.

Alzheimer's

When our kids were little, we restricted their tv viewing so closely that for a long time they were unaware that there were any stations other than CBC and TVO (TV Ontario). They are still my favourite stations.

For many years we had dear Ely Yost hosting Saturday Night at the Movies. Sadly, Elwy and that show are no more. TVO is now showing documentaries on Saturday nights. While the very word documentary may sound too serious for a Saturday night, so far I am impressed. (I know, I am showing my age by actually watching shows as they are aired.)

Tonight's show, The Genius of Marian, was very moving. I have seen other shows about Alzheimer's and they were good but this was really special. This 2013 film follows 61 year old Pam White as she and her family cope with her decline. This family is just so caring, devoted and compassionate. One of the realities that the film reminded me of, is that Alzheimer's affects a person's physical abilities as well as their memory. And so her husband helps her to dress, among many other daily tasks.  This beautiful former actor and model must now have someone with her at all times.

There is much to appreciate in this film: the home movies interspersed with current footage, the paintings of Marian, Pam's mother and the sensitivity of the filmmaker, her son Banker. In the intro before the movie, TVO's host states that, " in the end, it is above all, our humanity and common sense that is most helpful to people with the illness." Something for many of us to ponder.

peace and quiet

The following piece I wrote last week, while in Toronto. Now that we are back home and the dust has settled, I will attach the photo and post it.

I have just enjoyed the most peaceful, blessed hour! After a week spent packing and helping my mother-in-law to settle in at a retirement residence, we are visiting Norah and her family. Yesterday we sent little Avery to daycare for a large chunk of the day, so today we decided to keep him home with us. The morning was spent playing and taking him for a walk. By noon we were all ready for a break. We put him to bed and counted on a very long nap. However, less than an hour later there he was, sobbing unconsolably. Our plans had been thwarted by a gigantic poop!

After we cleaned him up he was still crying, so I sat with him and he quietly snuggled in. It reminded me of similar times with my own babies. Often those quiet snuggles, after a nap were the most peaceful time of the day.

Today Avery seemed so content, I wondered if I could take it a step further. If we laid down in bed, would he possibly go back to sleep? I carried him back upstairs and we got under the blankets in my bed. For a little guy who is constantly on the move, it was surprising and lovely to just lie quietly together and listen to the sound of his breathing. I loved the feeling of his little head nestled into my shoulder and the warmth of his body next to mine.  For the record, he didn't sleep. However, I kept drifting in and out of drowsiness. As he made his little noises I suddenly had a flashback; not to the 80's with my own babies, but way back to the 50's.

It was a hot sunny day and my own mother was trying to get me to have a nap. I know it was hot because I remember listening to the cicadas and the sounds of kids playing in the park across the street. I remember wanting to get up but feeling somewhat trapped by her body beside me, so much bigger than mine. Now I realize that she must have been exhausted. I was the eldest and my three sisters arrived within 5 years of my birth. On that particular summer day, perhaps the younger ones were down for a nap and she thought she could fool me into having one as well. Isn't that the perennial hope of parents and grandparents...a little bit of rest in a busy day?

Avery was content to lie still for about 45 minutes. As he awakened more fully he played with my fingers and started to make his funny noises. Our special time was ending.

I tend to make job lists and keep busy all day long. Along with the usual new years resolutions of exercise and better diet, I should really try to carve out some time for rest. Without Avery, my rest times would be very boring, but I could close my eyes and pretend. Here's to all the young parents out there, desperate for a short break.

Christmas come and gone already

With Matt's funeral on Dec. 7th and then another celebration of his life in Peterborough on Dec 21st, our Christmas preparations were pretty rushed. In between those two events we came home, decorated, shopped and wrapped. Everything was simplified to save time and to reflect the basic fact that all the frills do not really matter. The only important thing was to be together.
Lucky me, no turkey to stuff; as usual we ate Christmas dinner at my parents' home.

As I wrote on Nov. 23rd. Alison Moyet said that " happiness occurs in minutes, suspended in pedestrian years."  And so, during this Christmas, I enjoyed a series of sweet moments, often at unexpected times.  I remember thinking about that, while lying on the couch. It wasn't one of those planned out moments like the opening of the presents or sitting down together for an elaborate meal. It was just me lying on a couch, listening to all the sounds of my family...people cooking, chatting, consulting on a crossword puzzle, laughing while playing cards, playing with the baby, playing the piano.  It was very ordinary and yet quite perfect.

From the other photo you might have the impression that we really are on top of things. However, this is really what our living room looked like for most of the time the kids were around. I'm fine with the furniture out of place and the Ikea tunnel in the middle of it all..it was a happy kind of chaos. Looks like our angel had a bit too much to drink.

The New Years Grinch

You would think that after all the goodies I have consumed over the holiday period I would be feeling fat and jolly but no, just fat! Still grouchy after all these years. It does seem a shame that my first letter to the editor for 2014 is me complaining again but, I could not resist. With the incredible cold and snow that winter has delivered so far, I thought it wise to link these conditions to the many proposed buildings in our downtown core. Planners simply do not take this amount of snow and/or cold into consideration when they draft these new developments. Anyhow this letter is in today's Ottawa Citizen.

So, welcome to winter in Ottawa! Ever since November it has felt like mid winter. The city was forced to start their snow removal program early because we have received so much snow. Frigid conditions have been hazardous. Have Mayor Watson, city councillors and our planning committee noticed the weather?

 

Whenever I attend meetings about proposed infill houses or massive condos, the draft pictures are always set in summer scenes. There are benches, flowers, blue skies and scraggly new trees. When you talk to city officials, staff or councillors and dare to ask where people will drive or park you are sometimes made to feel like a dinosaur. Driving is the new smoking! 

 

City officials claim that the residents they are cramming into my West Wellington neighbourhood and all downtown areas, will not come with cars. They will jog to work, bike to the grocery store, walk to their gym and do yoga on the benches outside their condos...year round! Hardly anyone will drive anymore. We will take public transit, not cars.

 

I do take buses and think our transitway works well. I look forward to the light rail system and will be happy to use it. However, I will not sell my car. I will still drive many places. I will bike when I can, but I will never bike from November to April. I will not attempt to walk down a sidewalk when it is covered in ice. This is Ottawa folks. 

 

You can't prevent these new residents from bringing their cars with them. The traffic in our section of the city is already crazy. Don't attempt to drive Byron Avenue during evening rush hour. Parkdale is impossible at any time. We can only imagine the permanent gridlock from morning to night once all the new condos are completed. And these new houses which are sprouting up like mushrooms; the ones with no yards, no grass, no living things anywhere? Where do you think they are shovelling their snow? They have no front yards to put it on, so it is going on the snowbanks and streets; another reason for the early snow removal.

 

Next time I attend one of those planning meetings I'm going to ask for the mid winter version of their drawings.

The snowbanks on our block

  

To Everything there is a season

Where to begin? It has been said that bad things happen in threes. If so, perhaps we are finished with death for a while. In September Pat's aunt died. Verna was the last remaining sister of Pat's mom, Rita.  Although very frail for a long time, she was sweet and had her sense of humour right to the end.

In late October we were shocked to learn that our brother- in- law, Gale, had died. He was only 67. Gale was the father of three and husband of Pat's sister Janice. Once again we were in Peterborough to attend his funeral and try to help our nieces, nephew and Pat's mom cope with this huge loss. Gale is mourned not only by our family but by his many patients.

As sad as these deaths have been, it is this third one that has hit us the hardest. Our world simply stopped and shifted dramatically three weeks ago, when Pat's brother, Matthew died unexpectedly while on holiday in California. Matt hated winter, so every year around this time, when the days are so short and dark he would get laid off from his job and head south. He would usually stop in California to visit his cousins before going to Guatemala for a few months. In March or April he'd make his way home, resume work and take up residence again at his cabin in Douro, outside Peterborough. His home was known by many names, most often Windswept Meadows or Shaughnessy Research Labs.

Matt arrived at his cousin Peggy's about noon on November 26th, just before American Thanksgiving.  Once there he soon collapsed and although family and paramedics worked on him, they were unable to save him. It was hypertensive cardiovascular disease. Matt was only sixty but had high blood pressure, high cholesteral and diabetes.

We are comforted by the fact that Matt died with Peggy and her family, in their home, where he was very much loved. Being able to speak with them, as we dealt with his out of country death, has made the whole process more bearable. We will always be grateful to them for the loving care they gave Matt.

Matt was quite a guy; a unique character. Over these past three weeks there have been countless tributes written on Facebook and many heartwarming stories told at his funeral. He has been described as rambunctious, larger than life, a man of many amusing titles. Peterborough Examiner writer Ed Arnold wrote this special tribute.

In the days ahead I will share more about this whole experience. It is like we were in a time bubble for  two weeks and then gradually emerged back into the real world.  I have nothing earth shattering to add to the literature on the subject of life and death. For now I will simply suggest the usual: that we all cherish life, make the most of our days, create good memories and nourish our relationships.