Wednesday, June 29, 2005

This picture sits in a frame on my night stand now..

Times They are a Changing...

The first day that Kyli, my sister came home with her boyfriend, Joe I couldn't help but feel somewhat saddened. I was very happy to have her home for the short period of time, but on the other hand, I knew that once they left, so would our little puppy, Dixie. Now I don't mean to sound childish but I can't help but be lonely for her now that she no longer resides in Hinton.

The visit itself was a very productive one I must say. We accomplished everything that I was hoping for. We cleaned out the entire basement, scrubbing walls that had never been and making it new again. We went through most of the boxes in our garage, filling twenty or more garbage bags and many garage sale boxes. I feel that we needed to go through some of those things together, because alone, we might not have made it so far. It was sad going through our parent's lives basically in twenty or more boxes. We discovered home videos filled with footage of Rudi on them. We treasure the box full of pictures of us growing up with Rudi and all of the fun things that we did. It was a beautiful experience looking at our happy faces in so many of the pictures. We worked for hours, going through tea sets and old bills along with old knick knacks that brought back flashes of memories. I feel a sense of closure from going through all of our things. I feel better because I found those pictures of us with Rudi, and the videos of him being completely nutty. I realized that he was constantly goofing around making everyone laugh around him. Now watching the videos, it was like he had a glow about him, that was positive and contagious. If he was laughing, everyone was as well. He made people smile, and want to be around him.

It had been a long day that we cleaned and sorted through the garage. But part of me didn't want it to end, knowing that that meant I was left to deal with the rest of the mess on my own. Also knowing that the way I felt looking at those pictures would end and I would have to leave my safe place in my mind, remembering that we were moving our lives far, far from where we made the memories in the first place. I knew that I wouldn't have my puppy, Dixie around to keep our minds off of the stress.

Sunday night I sort of felt panicked, like I didn't want to go to bed. Even though my back ached and my body was exhausted from all of the work accomplished. I wanted to stay up all night, so that it wouldn't end. Paul had to work in the morning, so that helped me to let go, and surrender to time. To let go. Now that's a hard one to do. It's not easily done and almost entirely impossible to do on one's own. Like every night before, we picked up our exhausted, dead to the world pup and took her to her bed that she made for herself, under the jackets, on top of a pile of shoes. We added a pillow and blanket to make the place more comfortable for her months ago. Tonight, Paul and I layed her down together, hugging and kissing her fuzzy face. Telling her that we'd see her soon and that she was loved. Like she was a child or something. But it almost felt like that. She came into this family at the worst possible time, when Rudi was first diagnosed, and later during and after his death. She was forgotten and looked at more like an inconvenience more than anything else by most. But Paul and I fought to keep her. We took on the responsibilities, feeding and cleaning up her mistakes. We were even promoted, maybe at the time demoted to the title of Mommy and Daddy. She was our problem. But we didn't look at it that way. She was our baby and she knew that. Letting her go was really hard for me.

Mom told me about a month ago that I had to give her away because the place that we're moving to doesn't allow more than two dogs on the property. Luckily, Kyli and Joe stepped in and said that they would love to have her.

No more than a month later, she is gone. The morning that they left, I hid in my bedroom. I wanted so badly to get up and see her again. But I knew that it would only make things more difficult for me. So I fell back asleep and the next time I woke, they had been long gone. I cried in bed, thinking that I had been a coward for not saying goodbye. Later I realized that it was for the best that I stayed away. It would've made it worse for the dog and my sister, who already felt like the bad guy.

Last night Kyli phoned to inform me that Dixie was taking to the city well, not barking at passerbys anymore. Going to the bathroom outside, rather than in their quaint apartment seven floors up. She was taking walks in the park and entertaining them for hours on end. My heart smiled and I feel better knowing that she's with my sister. She'll treat her well and now they have themselves a little family. Maybe this will make them want children sooner...

I felt like I was losing everything that I loved. But I was just being too dramatic. Like Bob Dylan said, "Times they are a changing." And I just have to get used to that...

Monday, June 20, 2005


In A White Haze

Yesterday was Father's Day. So it would seem appropriate to write about my dad, Bernard Parenteau. But, I didn't even want to phone him yesterday. I felt a curious urge to somewhat resent all dads that were still here on this earth. So unfair of me, but I didn't really care yesterday. I was bitter because my dad, Rudi wasn't here. He loved father's day where he'd get all choked up over the mushy card I carefully selected for him. He would tell us that he didn't want anything for father's day but secretly I know that he did. He could always use a new set of darts, or a new juicer, or something useless in the kitchen. He loved useless things like deep friers. I call them useless because he seldomly used anything like that. Maybe once or twice.

This morning, I woke at 9:14 and I thought to myself, I have to get up to help mom with the house; washing walls, throwing out the huge bags of unwanted things, and most importantly organizing the garage sale stuff. But, I returned to sleep most likely just from dozing off and not having enough ambition to wake. Then I woke again at around 9:42 and I was having the same thoughts, about what needed to be done today. I was thinking about my dream I had about Rudi, and as I was about to give up on getting up. A loud, yet subtle enough knock, with one knuckle it seemed was hitting my door. It was noticeable to me, but at the same time it wasn't loud enough for the puppies at the end of my bed to wake and notice. It wasn't mom, and well I may sound nuts but I do not care. It was Rudi, hitting my door telling me to get the hell up and help my mom. So I did.

The dream, wow what an interesting dream. At the time in my dream I wasn't aware of how important and significant the happenings were until later when I woke up and analyzed them.
I was out at the bar and had to follow my really great childhood friend, Jessie to her weird house. Now this house was big, and it was set up very strangely. For some reason, Jessie was on a snowboard in front of me going down her steep hallways and I was on a board with a thin yellow rope following her, having much difficulty. (Perhaps my mind wanted it to be a tobbaggan but maybe I'm not that creative..haha) Jessie went off past a door and down a dresser around a corner and I was very uneasy about doing so. So I looked around to see if there was an easier way out. That's when I heard a voice. I thought it was Jessie's dad from down below, but there Rudi appeared. To me, in the dream I acted like this wasn't a peculiar occurence, yet I was fully aware that he did indeed pass away. I was up higher than him and it wasn't possible for me to really reach him without jumping down, but I couldn't do so. I don't know if I didn't want to, or if I just was unable to. I don't recall what exactly he was wearing when I think about it now, but I know that I thought; Why is he wearing all white? Out of my dream there is an obvious answer. He was his 55 year old self, grey hair and grey kind of mustache. He was happy to see me and I wasn't really all that excited to see him though I knew it was a rare thing to see him. He asked me a lot about my mom and how she was doing and if she was alright. I told him the truth, and made sure he knew that she was doing okay but that she had her days where she was really sad. I told him that she was keeping herself busy, but I didn't tell him why. In my head, I thought that maybe mom had warned me not to tell him about us moving because it might upset him. I really wanted to ask him if it was okay for us to move, but I didn't. Now I wish I had. He got a little teary and apologized for dieing and putting us through all of the pain. I wanted to cry a bit, but stayed strong thinking I couldn't cry, not infront of him. So I told him that it was okay and that we were getting through it and that we were strong. I don't really remember my exact words, but it was something like that. I remember just wanting to get away, like I was in a hurry. So I rushed him and he came over to hug me. But I was so high up that all he could really reach were my bare feet. So he kissed my feet. And then I believe I bent down and gave him a funny angled hug. And he helped me get out of Jessie's house. I didn't see him after he hugged me though. I just remember I got out of Jessie's house, with his direction, but he wasn't there anymore. Oh, and before, I told him that I had his car, and he asked how I was doing with it. He was always so concerned about that damn car, it's no wonder he asked me in my dream how it was doing.

This dream means a lot to me now. Even though I hate my behaviour of constantly wanting to get away. Not out of fear. I was anxious to leave, but now I wish I could have stayed longer and asked him questions. Even in my dreams I stay strong and don't allow him to see how I am hurting. I was in so much anguish yesterday. I missed him so much, and constantly thought about him all day. We all did. The day wasn't as bad as I had thought it might be. But I sure did miss him entirely. I feel priveleged that I got to dream about him in this way, where I actually had an intelligent conversation with him.

I hate how dreams vanish, even from memory almost completely. I felt the need to share it with my mom as soon as I woke and to write it down so that I can read back to it. Because slowly the very image of him and the words that we shared are fading away. Soon the dream will be nothing but a white haze in my mind...

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Easy Pleaser

I think that I am relatively easy to please. Today for instance, I have to tidy up my house because my mom is returning either today or tomorrow sometime. She's not being specific of course, so I have to clean today. But all I wanted to do was sit with a fluffy pillow on my lap and an afgahn blanket surrounding me with a novel that was requested for me to read by a dear friend. Reading, how I love it. I feel like I really can escape in a good fictional novel. I become the characters, and like I have recently discussed with my friend that shares the same passion for reading, we find that we are still thinking about the characters and their situations when we're away from the book. Now that is a good story!

Today there was a possibility that Paul might have the second half of his day off. But instead of hoping for him to not have to work, I hoped that he would so that I could read some of my book. It sounds awful, but it really isn't. Only a reader would understand what I mean. I sat in the living room, my not one, or two..but three dogs laying around me as I read on. The book I am currently reading seems to just be really getting interesting. But it's at the transitional phase of too much detail and I was beginning to lose patience and drift off to sleep. But then again, sleeping, more like napping on the couch is another one of my favourite things to do. The day isn't waiting for me. The sun is hiding behind clouds and I am sure I won't be seeing until tomorrow morning when I am too tired to really care. So I found that I slept for a good hour or so. It was so pleasant; a great way to spend the afternoon.

When I am reading a novel, I constantly am thinking of the author typing the very word that I am reading. My mind runs away with me and I image him cursing and deleting things that wouldn't fit as well. I imagine him putting in some of the lines and being insecure, wondering if his readers will identify with it or think he is a fool for writing such a mess. I wish so that I could have that very skill of detail that this author has, or the ability to make a character so real that you can actually see him.

I hope that one day I will have a few masterpieces out written with my blood and sweat. I hope that there is a reader much like myself imaging how I wrote the book. How I felt when I wrote this line, or how I came up with that line. I hope that I am successful like all the others I so fondly read. I hope that I make people want to be alone, so that they are finally with my book at last, to find out what happens next. I just want to write and I hope that I can follow my dream and not be discouraged, draft after draft. This is what I feel I need to do...what I am here to do. Write on...

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Alex and I much younger

Alex and I

No Escape

Small towns are cliches aren't they? I don't think that just Hinton itself is the only kind of small town there can be either. There are plenty small towns within Hinton. Think about it.... Everyone's work place is like a small town because there is a group of people within it that are the centre of any talk that may be conversed. Everyone knows everybody at work, for the most part. Everyone knows eachother's business and we all have our own little cliques. I personally am a bit of an outcast at work because I am the youngest and the things that the other ladies talk about are their children, recipes, etc. Things I am not very interested in. But there are a few ladies that I would rather work with than others. I am not ashamed to admit that I have had discussions with other ladies about someone else's questionable work ethics. See, just like a small town. Another very obvious kind of small town, is school. More so high school because it is so dramatic, with all of the new hormones floating up and down the hallways. No matter what we do, we can not escape small town bullshit.

So even though I am moving to another province, a better provice, I will still be subjected to the usual small town dramatics. I am moving to a small town, surrounded very closely to two others. I know that once I get there, I will be the new girl... I will be that person everyone is going to quickly try and categorize. I will be categorized based on my appearance first. Then by who I am with, as well as who I will warm up to first. In my case, my very spunky, outgoing cousin, Alex. There it is, I will be put in Alex's group, whatever that may be. I am prepared for it and quite happy that the two of us have always been very much alike.

My cousin Alex has always lived miles and miles away. She is my best friend, since we were just little, even though we didn't always get along. But that had to do with the same small town behaviour that lyes in each family. Her family moved around often and too often it was farther away from me. I visited her in Louisiana, Wainwright, Edmonton, Qualicum, and Dallas. Well I didn't visit her in Dallas, but that's all the different places that she's lived in while we were growing up. Now she resides in Qualicum, which is quite close to Coombs, where I will be living. We have always been the type that rarely keeps in touch when we're away, but once we reunite, it's like we never left eachother's sides. I am very fortunate that my mom decided that moving to the island was the answer.

I realize that all of my last few blogs have been related to moving. But my whole world, each day I think about it. There is so much to be done and very little time to do it. Yet I am sitting here at my computer writing about it, instead of actually doing it. Am I avoiding it because I am lazy and don't feel like tidying up or is it because subconsciously I am afraid that packing up makes leaving that much more real?

Thursday, June 09, 2005

One of the many left behind..

Thursday, June 02, 2005

From The Mountains To The Sea...where will I be?

To stay in a life that I know and have learned so much in....
Or to go off to an unknown land far away, to learn so much more ... struggle, warmth, my saviour perhaps?

My mom bought a home outside of Coombs, British Columbia yesterday. We know very little about the island and it was something surprising for all of us. She wants to up and move by next month. Sometimes I think that she hasn't even thought of us yet. Paul and I are young and just new to living together, after EVERYTHING that has happened in my soap opera life. We struggled for awhile to make things pleasant and we have succeeded. So just when everything was starting to sort of feel normal, well as normal as life can be at this point..... We are moving away. Away from everything that I know. From everyone that I know. As much as I complained about this place, I am terrified of leaving it. When I moved I expected my parents to live here forever and for this to be my home forever. Not necessarily this house, but Hinton in general. I understand that my mom needs to leave this town for many reasons. But it's so sudden and the part that hurts the very most is she's running... and I know she'll never look back. Rudi would be proud of her for leaving, I know. But his memory lives in Hinton and with that, this town means everything to me. Even though I despized it for so long. I need to know that I have a home here and I will no longer. It's tough to stomach...

It also doesn't help that with moving, I have to give up so much. Thankfully, my shining star is coming with me with very little hesitation. I am not really sure what I would do if he decided to let me go... He still could, I am not sure. I just don't want him to rescent me or my mom for all of this. He has to leave his entire life behind, as well as his new nephew and his family that are all still in town. Again, how do we cope with that? There is a lot of frustration swimming around us and questions with answers that I fear will be so procrastinated, that we will be left even more discouraged than before. A lot on our plates I must say. Will we last through all of this? Is this our ultimate test? I thought we were through with the harsh tests on our love for one another. Apparently not. But I do know that if only after a year of dating, and we overcome the loops and jumps on the bumpy path we can do anything together, forever. Which will be the most rewarding feeling out of all of this.

This. I have no words to describe 'this'. This is my life and this is how I am to deal with it. Deal with it. I could go on forever, wondering and worrying about what is to come...
I am sick of worrying and bitching and hating my situation. I think from now on I need to live. Let myself live life that I am so very blessed to have. Rudi would want me to just be. Live. Exist for him and let nothing stand in my way. Even if that seems impossible. I can do this. This.

From the mountains to the sea there I'll be...