Out Of Touch

My name is Katherine and it has been two weeks since my last post.

I've gotten a few calls and emails that have basically said, "Ahem. What is going on?" so I suppose I should hop to. I haven't posted, basically, because all I've really wanted to do since I got back from Halifax is to be around Mark and the kids. Meaning really physically around them (sort of like smothering), and not on the computer or even the phone much.

Instead of the usual Halifax hangover, which involves about a week of exhaustion and general bitchiness caused by time zone changes and cranky children, I've actually had extra patience and a need to suck up my family's presence. Plus it was the end of the preschool year and Liam's birthday (more on that tomorrow), so I had a lot to do.

It sort of goes without saying, but the trip was tough. Almost everywhere I looked in Halifax held a memory of my mom and, while at home I can forget that she's missing for whole blocks of time - half a day even - Halifax would have none of that. Couple that with a tangible ache for a hug from my husband and sniffs of my children's hair and, well, you can just imagine. I kept busy.

By the time I left for Denver, my brother James and I had touched virtually everything in my mom's house and made lots of piles (piles make me feel productive). We piled what we wanted: stuff I wanted, stuff he wanted, stuff too emotionally difficult to wade through (pictures, letters, and the like). We left what we didn't. Then I packed up the piles into moving boxes while James re-landscaped the backyard, which was beautiful before but lately neglected. We talked through the window while we worked. During such a difficult task, I'm quite impressed that James and I didn't fight once (bickering doesn't count).

(But then this past weekend James had to fill a dumpster with the stuff we didn't want and make several trips to Value Village. Thankfully he had Sam and mom's friend Judy to help him.)

While James continued in the garden, I walked (with my mom's littlest sister, Judy).

Twelve times around a track for Brain Tumors and, thanks to so many of you, I was the number two fund raiser in Halifax, with an astonishingly grand total of $1350. My god, thank you. I was also surprised to see one of Mom's earliest caregivers there, walking for Mom, along with a nurse that also cared for Mom along the way.

One of my friends mentioned that she wished she could walk with me, and that got me to thinking. So, just to make sure I remembered how blessed I am, I took y'all with me.

Thank you, thank you.

The walk was good. It felt productive and honor-filled. Although, strangely, it took some work to show off my honor. My aunt Susan had done the Spring Sprint in London a few weeks earlier and, not wanting me to arrive empty-handed, warned me that there would be a tribute wall. So of course I prepared a picture complete with tear-jerker quote (laminated, no less, in case of a Scotia rain storm) to add to the wall. But when other aunt Judy and I showed up to do some walking, the tribute wall was no where to be seen.

I asked about tributes while checking in and was told something along the lines of, "Oh yes, a spot for tributes will be up in a few minutes." Well, it wasn't up in a few minutes, and not even in a few minutes after that. So I asked again and was again told the tribute wall was coming. Again with the waiting; again with the asking. Still no wall. Finally, when the announcement came to line up for the start, and STILL no wall, I marched up and demanded a goddamn tribute wall. The slightly-exasperated response: "You know, you're the only person who brought anything."

I got my wall.

Honestly, I was very restrained for such an emotionally-charged set up. And the result? Pretty much every person there strolled over to see what the heck the big-yet-virtually-empty sign was all about.

And look what I got to bring home to the kids:

Stress brains. (I know, it's out of focus, but for some reason all eyes were upon me, even though I felt the picture made perfect sense. So I rushed).

There's more to tell tomorrow (as always). And you know, I've missed blogland. It's good to be back.

Comments

[knittingnurse]

I'm glad you took the time you needed to yourself and your family before blogging again. . . . that's important. We did miss you and we are so glad that you are back. I'll look forward to all your knitting and Liam escapades.

Hugs to you.

p.s. I would have b**ched about the tribute wall too! I can't believe you were the only one to bring something. . . weird.

[Steph VW]

Katherine - the person who was in the number 1 position ahead of you is a friend of mine!

[Holly Jo]

First - the stress brain picture seriously cracked me up. The mental image of you taking the picture and all these people watching you was too much.

Second - I agree that it is weird no one else brought something for the tribute wall, and I am glad you got yours!

Finally, glad you are taking some time with your family. The sniffing of you children's hair made me smile - I do the same with mine when I need to be close to them. Especially the eldest who does not tolerate long cuddles anymore. :)

[sue]

Good to see your musings again, Kathy. It is so important to know what you need and follow through- loving your family and holding them close. And you can rest assured there will be a tribute board set up next year in Halifax first thing. The one in London was anticipated and where I had photocopies of Sprint intentions with your mom's photo, others had beautiful, laminated tributes. Just like you had. And now the Scotians know.

And now it is June 6th. Happy Birthday to you. You were the light of my life in your babyhood and I learned lots about child development and loving care from your mom. You with your Fuzzy bear...The little cutie has become such an amazing woman!
Love you
Sue

[Karma]

Welcome home, dear. I can only imagine what an emotional time it's been for you.

And to think, you and your brother didn't fight? Wow! (wink wink)

[stefaneener]

Welcome home, and thanks for posting again. When I'm really beside myself, that head-sniffing can go a long way.

You're doing great. Really you are. Hang in there.

[Kristin]

My sisters and I never could have made it through a week like that without fighting. I am usually the glue that holds us together, but when I am upset, I turn into mega-b*tch.

Enjoy your family, I have a little monkey to go cuddle and sniff. Thanks for the idea. Sometimes cuddles make all the difference in the world.