Goodbye 2014, and good riddance

I guess it has been a whole year since I added to this blog.  It has been a pretty awful year, and I just need to make a list of all the bad things, and then try to come up with some good things to be thankful for.  I know that many have it much worse, no matter how bad things seem.  Trying to stay positive and remember what's really important in this life.

In December, 2013, my Dad's mom, our Memere, passed away.  She lived a long life, and thankfully went suddenly without a lot of suffering, aside from being old and the aches and pains that go along with that.  She was a role model to us all, and is missed.  Her husband, our Pepere, passed in February 1987 after suffering a battle with cancer.

In February my Dad's brother Gus passed away.  He had cancer too and was not well for a while, but he made it to Memere's funeral, barely, to see extended family one last time.  Too young to go, more sadness.

Then in March, my Dad found a lump.  Of course we didn't think it was cancer.  Hoped it wasn't cancer.  It couldn't be cancer.  But then another lump, and another, and another... On April 11 the diagnosis was confirmed.  Stupid cancer.  He was only 69.  This couldn't be happening.  But he will fight and get better right?  They can treat it right?  Then more bad news - Stage 3, melanoma, spread through lymphatic system.  Worse yet - also lesions in his brain, who knows where else.  We tried to stay positive.  Chemo, radiation, in and out of hospital, weaker and weaker, I can't describe or imagine the suffering.  My Mom trying to stay strong for him, looking after him, all of us so helpless. He never complained, never felt sorry for himself, stayed positive, joked around to the end. On August 11 he took his last breath in palliative care with Mom, my sister and me by his side, and his sisters and one of his granddaughters were there too. I remember it so clearly, and yet it seems so foggy like it couldn't have really happened, maybe it was just a dream, maybe he's ok.  But it's not ok, and he is gone, and it will never be the same and we miss him so much.  I can't stop the tears. There is so much more I could say about those months, but it's too sad, it hurts too much to even think about it.  The few days I was able to spend with him, in the hospital, back at home, having a hospital bed in the living room, helping him at night, trying to get him to eat something - anything. Watching TV with him on Father's day. The days I wasn't able to be there. Seeing him change so much from one visit to the next.  Maybe in time I will be able to say more.

Through the 5 short months from the first lump to his passing, it wasn't enough that Dad was dealing with cancer and we were dealing with the emotional roller coaster of trying to stay positive, knowing in our hearts he was getting worse fast - life had to throw a few more curveballs our way.

In mid-May, daughter #2 Kimberly had pneumonia - I was visiting Dad in the hospital in Saskatoon, she ended up in Emergency at the hospital in Regina.  I talked to her on the phone and remember thinking how strange it was to be at one hospital talking to her in another hospital, so torn on which hospital I should be at.  She was only there for the day though, and medication did the trick. Kristin has also been sick earlier in the month, and looking back she probably had pneumonia too but didn't have an x-ray done.

Then at the end of May, it was Bob's turn to fight pneumonia.  He was really sick, and I feel bad for teasing him about his 'man-cold', because it he was seriously ill and in need of medication. He did not end up being hospitalized, but we thought for awhile he would be.

On June 5th, I was in a car accident.  Thankfully I wasn't hurt, thankfully the kids were not with me, thankfully I was going below the speed limit, but the car was totalled when someone turned left as I was going straight, through a green light. It happened in slow motion: "Oh crap. Where did he come from? He's turning right in front of me. I'm going to hit him, I can't swerve left or I'll crash into that truck, but I can't go right or I'll hit those cars, maybe if I brake he'll make it past before I hit him. Why is there so much traffic?  I can't see a way to avoid this. My poor car. My Dad is going to be sad, he loved this car..."  Crash. Why was I at that spot at that time? What if I'd gone a little slower, left a little sooner or a little later, been going slightly faster or slightly slower - it could have been worse, or it may not have happened at all.  But I was there at that spot at that moment in time.  So thankful no one was hurt, but now I had to deal with an insurance claim, taking the car in for assessment, a rental vehicle so I could still go visit my Dad in between, then the news it was written off, negotiating a settlement, looking for a replacement vehicle.  Enough already universe.

Then in late June pneumonia struck yet again, this time our 7-year old son Jack. At first we thought it was just a bad cold, but the fever got worse, so on June 26th (his last day of Grade 1and our oldest daughter's birthday) I took him to the doctor instead of to school.  They sent us to Emergency, to meet the on-call paediatrician, fearing not only pneumonia but possibly meningitis. It was not meningitis, thankfully, but it was worse than pneumonia.  CT Scan and X-Rays showed a nasty sinus infection, pneumonia and Empyema - lung infection had gotten into the lining of his lung, similar to pleurisy. No wonder it hurt to breathe, no wonder he had such a fever, no wonder it wasn't getting better. They pulled out the 'big gun' IV antibiotics. He had an allergic reaction to one, kept blowing his IV on another but started to improve, July 1st he was released with a round of oral antibiotics. They didn't work. On July 9th, he was readmitted to hospital, had more bloodwork and was put on another IV antibiotic.  We were so worried, and I kept having flashbacks to the first 7 weeks of his life, but we kept reminding ourselves that this wasn't as bad as his heart surgery, and he would be ok. But more x-rays showed his lung was worse, and the doctors wanted to surgically remove the infection from his lung lining, but because of the heart surgery he had as a baby we were reluctant to authorize his being put under for surgery unless there were no other options.  So they consulted with infectious diseases, consulted with his cardiologist in Saskatoon, did an ultrasound and echo cardiogram to check on his heart.  On July 11th they did a surgical procedure to put in a drain tube in hopes of draining the infection from this lung.  He spent 24 hours in ICU, had issues with the morphine, suffered through 5 days of painful antibiotics being injected into the drain tube to break up the pockets of infection so they could drain out, truly a horrible ordeal.  Finally, on July 17th he was discharged from the hospital with one last antibiotic, to be given at home orally,  to ensure it was looked after.

Through all of this I was fighting a cold, and as these days in the hospital wore on, I was feeling worse and worse, but sleeping in his room on the little cot, looking after him day and night, helping him with his IV pole, keeping him occupied, I just thought I was run down.  One afternoon while Bob stayed with Jack, I ran across the street to the medicentre to make sure I didn't need antibiotics. X-ray showed I had pneumonia too.  What are the odds? Pneumonia is not contagious, even though the infection that causes it may be.  According to the pediatrician at the hospital, it is luck of the draw whether it infects the lung or not, so just bad luck. By this point, stupid stuff happening is starting to seem normal. At least he said I didn't get it from Jack, nor was I a danger to Jack by being at the hospital with him.

On June 29th, while Jack was still in the hospital, heavy rains caused flooding that resulted in almost a foot of water in our basement.  Worried about Dad, worried about Jack - did not need to be dealing with an insurance claim, cleaning out destroyed belongings, ripping apart the ruined flooring, walls, insulation, knowing we would have to do all that work again.

On July 13th, also while Jack was still in the hospital, I had a call that my sister was rushed to emergency. For the second time in as many months I was in one hospital, talking to a loved one in another hospital, wondering why so much is going wrong.  Her heart had gone into tachycardia, got stuck in a super-fast loop, wouldn't slow down.  They had to stop her heart to get it back to normal, paddles ready if it didn't start again.  Thankfully, it worked and she was released from hospital with heart medication and a referral to a cardiologist.  She will need a surgical procedure in January.

August saw Dad's funeral, and the numbness and disbelief and sadness permeated all of us.  It is hardest on Mom, because her life is completely and irrevokably changed, every day.

September and October seemed calm in comparison.  Maybe things were settling down.  Back to school routines, Carly in Grade 5, Jack in Grade 2.  He started hockey skills, kids were in skating, Carly joined girl guides.  Everytime I phoned Mom, I would think "I wonder if Mom or Dad will answer", but then I would remember.  Dad won't be answering.

Then Gem, our 12 year old German Shepherd, started having issues with her hips. We thought it was her hip dysplasia acting up, but it was more than that.  The vet prescribed pain medication that helped a little but we knew there was nothing that could be done, surgery may or not help.  We suspected an immune disorder common in shepherds that causes them to loose control of the hips in addition to causing other issues.  A blood test may have confirmed that, but the vet said there was not a lot of options, especially at her age.  On November 8th, we made the decision to put her down. She was getting worse by the day, and suffering.  Now she is gone to join our Golden Retriever, Ranger, who we said goodbye to in January 2013 when he was 10.

Also in November, on the 25th, Mom had to have surgery. Thankfully, it seems to have gone well and she is on the mend. My sister got her there, and Auntie Coco stayed with her the first couple days she was back home.

Last week the sewer backed up in our basement.  Seems like no big deal after everything that's happened this year, but still frustrating and one more thing to deal with. On the plus side, the basement still hasn't been redone, so there wasn't much damage.

I feel like this is the opposite of one of those 'christmas letters' where people recap the highlights of their year, and I'm recapping the lowlights of the year instead.  There were some good things that happened too though, Bob and I went to Mexico in February with friends, before Dad got sick.  Jack was sick, but he got through it and is ok now.  My car was totalled in June, but I got a decent settlement and a nicer car to replace it.  The basement flooded, but we got a fair settlement without having to fight for it, so that could have been worse.  We managed to spend time with family and friends over the summer, and spent some evenings around the firepit.

As the new year looms, I have to be hopeful that it will be less eventful. I am trying to resist the urge to just curl up into a ball and ignore everything, hoping nothing else bad happens.  But it really isn't so bad, we live in Canada, we have jobs and a house to live in and food on the table.  We have family and friends. We can sit down with popcorn and watch a family movie, and just enjoy the simple things in life.  Breathe in, breathe out. Time goes on.

I had the honour of reading this at my Memere's funeral on December 7, 2013 as part of the Eulogy.

Memere was the kindest, sweetest, gentlest person I know.

As the oldest granddaughter, I got to spend a lot of time helping with little ones. There’s a whole slough of them around my little sister Bonnie’s age.  Memere was the master at quieting a crying baby or a screaming toddler.  She would distract them with a calm quiet voice, “Oh goodness, what’s this over here, look at this” and suddenly a photograph or a mirror or a book made the baby forget mommy wasn’t in the room or made the toddler forget they were having a tantrum.  A true role model, I never saw her angry or speak harshly to anyone - although she did raise my Dad, so I'm guessing she may have raised her voice on occasion - She had never-ending patience, and was always calm and capable no matter what task she took on.

We all have memories of spending time with Memere in the kitchen – Tourtiere, flapper pie, pate chinois, making snow taffy, Sucre a Creme - in the little blue glass dish with a handle - baking bread – and after kneading you always end by poking the sign of the cross in the dough before you cover with a tea towel, Always cookies in the blue cookie jar, and always a pie in the cupboard when you reached for a plate.  I remember her garden was always brimming with raspberries to pick and peas to be shelled, and I remember  the tummyaches from eating too many of the raspberries or too many of the peas. 

I have older memories too.  One of my oldest memories is of being potty trained.  My Dad remembers pulling into the yard, and she had me hanging over the edge of porch railing, telling me to feel the cool breeze, or in the bathroom she would turn on the tap a little bit and tell me to listen to the sound of the running water.  To this day I can’t drive by a waterfall without wondering where the nearest washroom is. 

But she didn't just potty train us. Memere was always teaching without you knowing you were learning.  When I was a little girl – only 3 or 4 years old? - she would let me help her in the store they had in St. Denis.  How to put the prices on the items, how to count money.  She even had a dish of money next to the till, so if I wanted something I had to ‘buy’ it with money from the dish – my bar six or Cuban lunch or little icy cup in the foil cup.  She showed me how to use the old wringer washer, and how to make salad dressing – mayonnaise, vinegar, salt and pepper, always in the little blue plastic mug with a handle and she'd let me stir it with a fork.  Memere never made you feel like you were too little to help or too little to try things, or that she didn't have time for you.

Somehow she managed to make all of her grandchildren feel special, when you visited her you never felt like just 1 of 19, you were 1 of 1 for that time you with her.  As a teenager, watching soap operas with her on a visit, she would fill me in with a hushed voice “You know, he’s sleeping with her, but married to the other one...”  So out of character for her, but she loved her soaps!  Her sharing that with me made me feel special.  Even at age 40, visiting in the nursing home, she not only knew exactly who I was but even gave me heck “You never come from Regina to visit me”.  It made me feel like I mattered, like I was special.  She remembered that I was the one who lived in Regina, she cared that I hadn’t been there in a while, just as she cared about every single one of her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.

Janelle posted a picture of Memere holding  baby Michael, and it reminded me of countless similar pictures of her holding babies, but especially of one I took of her holding her first great-grandchild, my little Kristin, 21 years ago, and also one of her holding little me many more years ago, always with the baby in the left arm, the right hand ready to smooth a shirt, wipe a tear, tickle a belly, stroke a cheek.  That’s what I remember most, Memere’s love for the little ones.  They were all a joy to her, each and every special one. 

But none of us are as special as she was.

Rest in Peace Memere Aline.

Easy French Toast!

I always loved french toast, but hated fighting with the bread trying to dip it without it falling apart and then frying each one separately, and trying to keep the first ones warm while you made the rest. But now all these problems are solved - use frozen bread, and bake it in the oven!  Genius!  I got the idea to bake it from Pinterest, but the recipes I found required you to make it the day before and refrigerate overnight. That's great if you plan ahead, not great when you suddenly want French Toast for breakfast.


Here is the recipe I made this morning, and got rave reviews - even the husband commented on the great smell in the kitchen and ate it quite happily.

OVEN BAKED FRENCH TOAST
Adapted from "Cooks.com"

2/3 c. butter
2 tbsp. honey
3 tsp. cinnamon
3 eggs
1/8 tsp. salt
1/4 c. milk
1/4 c. orange juice
6 slices of frozen bread (frozen bread is much easier to dip)
Maple Syrup (optional)

Put butter and honey in 9x13 pan, place in oven to melt
Stir melted honey and butter together, then sprinkle 2 tsp. cinnamon over top
Beat together eggs, salt, milk, orange juice and remaining 1 tsp. cinnamon
Dip both sides of bread in egg mixture, place in pan in a single layer
Put in oven at 350 degrees for 25 minutes

Serve each slice upside down, so the honey/butter coating is on top.
Drizzle with maple syrup.