Six months later. Dear Albert...

9pm. I climbed into bed a after getting our grand girlies in to bed. I glanced at the clock to double check the time to see if it was a good time to call you and tell you about my day.

Oh yeah I guess I can’t call you.

Those flashes of lapse of mind are still regular, though I do it acknowledge, not so frequent.

It’s been six months today  since you left me. While  I have generally felt like I’ve been floundering through my days, if I honestly examine where I was and where I am, I could admit that I am learning to wear my big girl panties most days.

I’ve had to make many solo decisions regarding our home, my finances, my future and even my daily attitude. I think you’d be on board with all of it. Except maybe those last two pair of flip-flops. I know I didn’t need them. But today, six months since you left me, is my first pension payday. I am officially on a fixed income and I vow to stay within budget. I am saving a considerable amount on the wine budget. So there’s that.

Among my big girl decisions, I have decided to take the long way home from Kamloops a few days early with a detour to Edmonton. Oh babe, my broken heart is just crushed for Greg. And my greatest wish is that I can impart even a shred of your wisdom and love of  Jesus as we lay his beloved April to rest. I know you greeted her in heaven with enthusiasm equal to that of the angels.

I think I was drawn to her as my closest friend in high school around the same time I was drawn to you for similar reasons. You both have always stayed strong in your convictions knowing what you want and what you were willing to accept. And screw those who didn’t like it.

Neither of you were easily Influenced by the world around you if that world was not offering something you were comfortable with. Both were strong personalities, who were also capable of being meek and gentle. Both were leaders without wanting, or possibly even realizing, the power of it.

Alas, I have managed to reach six months without your physical presence, but truly your 38 years of leadership will forever be imbedded in my psyche. And for that I am forever grateful.

Closed for the Season

This season is closed.

I'm sure eventually I will have a blog post that doesn't start with the opening line "Today was a hard day..."

It's been about 11 years since we first set foot on the property at Vivian Lake while in search for a location for Ken and Jade's fantastical medieval wedding. And I knew from the first greeting we received from Arlene and Brian that this was a place we could call "home."

To be sure, it was nothing fancy. But I am not fancy folk. But it was a place of beauty and quiet and calm and respite. And we have taken advantage of it with grateful hearts ever since.

However, the property was purchased from Arlene three years ago and the current owners have decided to discontinue public use of their property. They are completely entitled to this decision and I hold no ill will toward them. (We had every opportunity to purchase the property had we wanted to be the ones to call the shots.)

So today was moving day.

It's amazing  how much stuff one can accumulate in a small 20x20 cabin over time. But more than 'stuff' I have accumulated memories. Many many incredible memories.

Packing up, I managed to reduce the 'stuff'  I hauled home to 4 chairs, 2 Rubbermaid containers of odds 'n sods and a yard train made of logs with a chainsaw.

But the memories are immeasurable.

I am so grateful for the help and support I received today in cleaning everything up and hauling stuff away. If you were a part of this, you know who you are, and please accept my love and gratitude. And I must acknowledge that Arlene, the original owner, came out for a while. What a huge blessing that was and shows you just why we fell in love with her and the property in the first place.

I stayed at the cabin for a while after everyone else left today to "just be," take some photos and empty the piss-pail one last time. And yeah, I cried. Sobbed even.

It was hard to drive away for the final time.

I took one last photo as I stopped to close the gate behind me.  "Closed for the Season" were the words on the sign at the gate. My heart and mind registered the words as "This Season is Closed."

And truly I believe this is so.

I have faced many changes and challenges in this past five and a half months since saying goodbye to my Albert, my partner, my caregiver, my sustenance, my all. I have taken many steps in moving forward in my new reality. But I will never "move on." For surely everything I ever do will be rooted in the life we shared since I was 15 years old. But by the grace of God I can move forward.

For now it is my intention to keep the house and enjoy the huge blessing of being in a position where my husband continues to take care of me, even in his death.

In the past couple of weeks I have sold the sideXside and the hot tub, and my gracious and generous son Ken has helped to clean out and organize the shop and my garage.  I am trying not to make too many rash decisions, especially in this first year of grief, but I believe it has been a good and healthy purge of stuff.

And so, coinciding with the coming of spring - a melting of snow to uncover new growth and fresh life, I move forward and view the "This Season is Closed" sign in my rearview mirror.  And hope to God my internal GPS steers me in the direction I need to go.

Make the most of your days folks...

Oh, I don't even know where to begin. 

Today was a day unlike any other. 

May 4 is my Mama's birthday. So in and of itself it is always a day with emotional impact for me. I miss her and I acknowledge and thank God for her incredible influence on my life. 

But May 4, 2019 was a day that hit me like a tonne of bricks wrapped in a hug. Or is that a hug wrapped in a shitload of bricks.

My lease is up and I have to be out of the cabin at Vivian Lake by the May Long. 

I chose today as my first day back to assess things, get the papers from the trailer so it can be insured before removal after 6 years, and spend some time just being.  Next Saturday I will bring a crew and actually do the final clean up and move.

Turns out most of the regular seasonal people were also there today cleaning up and saying goodbye to this lake front property we have been blessed with this past decade or so. I was grateful to connect with them briefly and exchange hugs one last time. 

But I also felt slightly guilty as I sat at my fire pit drinking wine and just soaking, while the rest of the folk scurried about cleaning up their sites. I plan for next weekend to be my time of scurrying. Today was a day of reflection for me. 

Oh my goodness, I am so grateful. Grateful that we had 7 amazing years in this cabin. Well, really 10 summers since Ken and Jade's most incredible wedding introduced us to this place. 

Sometimes one can't help but think "if only I knew." 

If only I knew that 2018 was my last year with my Albert. My last year with our cabin. My last.....  

If only... 

But usually it's good that we don't pre-know these things. So our memories consist of real moments and real joys and real life instead of contrived things we might be inclined to make up just to make the most of the time we have.  

The real lesson here is to make the most of the time you have because ... because...because. 

No words. Just because. Make the most of your moments folks. Make the most of your moments. 

I'm sure I had more to say but this post just winded down on me. Just make the most of your days my friends, make the most of your days. 

Picked up my Vanderhoof dinner jacket from the cabin today. It smells like campfire smoke.  It looks like redneck. And it's cozy and warm and feels like memories wrapped in a hug.  I may never wash it. 

I cannot even describe this.
I arrived at the cabin for the first time since Albert's death and our flag was flying at half-mast.  Seriously. I cannot even remotely explain it. This has never happened in all the years we have occupied this site and maintained this flagpole. 

Hot dogs!  It's been 7 months or so since I had a hot dog, but it seems to fit the bill today. Soooo yummy. 

 

Finally! For the first time. After all these years I have gotten the grass to grow around the campfire.  An accomplishment to be grateful for none-the-less. 

So amazing to have the loons come in close to acknowledge me and say goodbye.  They don't usually show up until closer to the end of May. 

This. 

I'll miss that little clump of trees affectionately known as the Kardashians (because they don't really do anything but somehow always end up in our photos) I will pack the "train track" home and assemble the train in my front flower garden. 

So rustic. So comfy. So home.  I crawled into our bed and had a wee cry, a wee nap and a wee  goodbye this afternoon. 

Oh Vivian.  Oh my heart.