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Tag Archives: loss

Why am I so affected by this past weekend?

The PolyBlog
September 26 2018

Over the last 24 hours, I have struggled to put into words, even in my own mind, why I feel affected so strongly by this past weekend. On the face of it, there are no particular traumas direct enough to affect me:

  • I didn’t experience the storm that ravaged Ottawa — I missed the rain before 4:15 p.m. as I was at work, and by 5:15, I was at home with Jacob hanging out and playing board games by flashlight, no real issues;
  • One of the tornadoes hit our “area” and in theory it *could* affect me, but it wasn’t MY neighbourhood, proximity is more tangental in that it hit close to Jacob’s school. However, the school itself wasn’t affected and while the actual neighbourhood is near where I used to live, that was 20 years ago, and I never went over near the area that was hit…it’s pretty removed from my life, and I don’t feel any internal, personal resonance to the location; and,
  • I was without power for 60 hours, but well, so what? Under the heading of #FirstWorldPowers, that ranks pretty low in impact. It was annoying, not debilitating.

I’m combing through the events of the last four days, but I can’t put my finger on something specific, or even feel like the cumulative effect should be resonating so strongly with me.

Friday

For context, Andrea left for work early, so I needed to drop the cub at the bus stop for his school bus. Made it just in time, and then while talking with another kid’s Mom who lives nearby that we’re friends with, it started to pour rain. By the time I got back to the house, a short two blocks away, I was soaked to the bone. It felt like I had gone swimming. I was still in casual clothes, so no big deal to change anyway, and then off to work. Good day, not as productive as I would have liked, but not bad. And then a little craziness to arrange transport schedules and logistics with Andrea from her day-long retreat and head home to get the cub. Nothing out of the ordinary but there was a tornado watch/warning in effect. Something that happens irregularly throughout the summer and usually turns out to be for naught. As we went up Woodroffe and got close to our house, traffic started to slow and it became obvious that there were lights out going down Woodroffe. A quick detour through our neighbourhood with other lights out and I dropped Andrea at home. Couldn’t get the dang garage door to open which I was doing from the street, and my first thought was the angle or the distance, and then we both suddenly realized, “Doh, it’s not just traffic lights that are out, our zone must be out too, therefore it won’t open!”. Of course. I drove to the other side of the neighbourhood and picked J up from the daycare, and voila, they still had power. So obviously not a “big” outage, right?

Back home, power definitely out, no biggie I thought. Andrea was getting ready for a girls weekend with her Mom and sister out of town, so they headed off and Jacob and I hunkered down to a couple of board games by the light of the patio doors, supplemented around 7:00 by a small lantern / flashlight and my astronomy powerpack that has a light on it. About 7:30 p.m., power still wasn’t back on yet, so I thought we might as well go out and grab some food somewhere. By now, I had seen some reports on Facebook and it was clear it was wider than we thought at 5:00 p.m., with some real damage some places nearby (Arlington Woods). I still figured that maybe it would take 24 hours for the power to come back on, but because I hadn’t seen much of any storm, I didn’t feel like it had been “that bad”. A temporary power problem plus some highly localized damage.

J and I drove over to Woodroffe and inched our way down to the Queensway. I had a choice to make — East towards downtown, Gloucester, Orleans, etc. but traffic didn’t look promising coming back. I opted to go West. Nothing for several blocks. Some buildings by Bayshore had power. Bells Corners looked dark, as did Moodie North. Near Castlefrank in Kanata, lights were on at the Legion, Wave Pool, and a new hotel (not sure it’s open yet), but a block or two South of that was dark. Centrum was mostly dark, and based just on the car lineups, if anything WAS open still, lineups inside would have been nuts.  I backtracked and headed down the 416. Fallowfield, Strandherd, Barrhaven South, all dark. I went another exit or two and reversed direction.

By this time it was getting closer to 9:00, and I was getting annoyed that I couldn’t find food for Jacob. If it was just me, I would have probably returned home, ate a bunch of little snack things, had some junk food, and moved on. Basically I would have not worried too much about the balance or health, just the fuel side. With Jacob, obviously I needed to be more responsible than that, so we gave up our tour search, and headed for home. I thought I would avoid Woodroffe and try going across Baseline, but when I got off at Hunt Club, I couldn’t go North on Cedarview. Lines down, trucks there trying to fix things, our first real signs of damage and repairs. I opted to go West again over to Moodie and back up to Bells Corners just in case anything was open, but it was all dark. Lights were out, but traffic was relatively light, and I made good time.

Near Queensway Hospital, power was on. The Hospital, traffic lights either side, a couple of buildings, all with power. And then we went by a Dollar Store and Fat Albert’s fast food place. Oh. My. God. I’ve been in that parking lot, which also serves an Appletree, when I thought it was busy at Hallowe’en or Christmas. This had about 3 times that many cars in it, and I momentarily thought, “Should I stop?” before my brain said, “Are you crazy?”. The rest of Baseline was fine.

I was trying to keep J’s spirits up, but we were now past 9:00 and he was thus both hungry and REALLY tired. I also didn’t realize that he had been still texting Andrea from the backseat while on my phone. I had given it to him to look at something, and he started texting her because, well, it was obvious when I got out of the car and read the history, he had been a bit stressed because nothing was open and there was nowhere to go.

We still had food of course back home, I just wanted something cooked and since I didn’t have an easy cooking solution, I had opted to go out. Instead, we ended up back at the dining room table eating apples, yogourt, a sandwich or something bread-like, and I think some chips too.  He was pretty tired, so I helped him get his lenses out, and he tumbled into bed. I let him sleep in his clothes, he was so tired. And gave him a flashlight as his security blanket.

Then it was my turn. I switched all my mobile devices to maximum power saving modes, and made do with what I had. But the real challenge for me in a power outage of this sort is that I normally use a BiPAP machine to help with my sleep apnea. Sleeping without it is possible, sure, but if I even take a nap on a couch without it, I wake up with a sore throat the size of Montana. My throat dries out big time and it feels like I’m swallowing glass until I can rehydrate. So I prefer to use it, it works well for me. But no power = no machine in my case (some come with power backups), and thus I slept without it. Which meant I woke up every 45-90 minutes throughout the night, and would rehydrate, roll over, and try again. I also am a bit of a music/white noise fiend. One song and I’m out usually, but without the machine or any music, I was struggling. Probably the worst sleep I have had in my own bed in about 4 years. And that’s saying something for me.

But, whatever, I thought, the power would likely be back on for Saturday, it’s never more than about 12-18 hours, and even that is exceptionally long.

Saturday

My alarm went off Saturday morning. I have it set for 7 days a week, but I turn it off and on each day, I don’t leave it running. Except apparently I did on Friday so it was still set Saturday morning, and it has battery backup. Ook. I tried to turn it off, but spoiler alert, Sunday showed me I had not done it correctly.

Jacob played on his tablet for awhile, then came into our bedroom and read by the big bright window. He was a little bored, but at least we could have normal cereal with still-cold milk. Plus apple juice, no toast, but doing okay. We started playing board games and that lasted until lunch time.

Information was a bit spotty about who had power and who didn’t. The Ottawa Hydro map was, at that time at least, borderline useless. Most people were relying on Facebook and Twitter to figure out what was happening, and crowdsourcing was helping.

Except in some cases it wasn’t. The official reports said Nepean was “out”. Yep, almost all of it. They also said Gloucester and Orleans in the same list, yet people were saying, “Nope, we have power”. Which looked like maybe there were some pockets with power. No, as it turns out the NEXT DAY (for me), what it actually meant was that tiny tips of Orleans and Gloucester to the South were affected. But the official reports just said Orleans or Gloucester the same way it said Nepean. So I thought they had NO power or rather were almost as badly affected as us. There were simply no really good comprehensive sources of info on Saturday morning. And some of the media pundits were pointing people to the badly updated, frequently crashed websites of Ottawa Hydro as if it was some great source of info. I get that linesmen were out busting their butts to fix the lines, and yay for them. But whoever was in charge back in the office of circulating info on Saturday, well, they mostly sucked. By late afternoon, it was improved; earlier, as an example, Centrepointe didn’t show up on the list of affected areas but did show up on the map, sometimes at least.

I went downstairs to the basement and sorted through camping stuff with J’s help for light. One Coleman stove and two bins later, and I could cook…something. It has a little BBQ grill plate plus a burner, and I found our camping pot, fry pan, and toast-maker. I was good to go. I was a bit low on bread though i.e. buns. Hmm…I wondered if anything was open in Bells Corners yet. I knew Merivale was closed but we could do a quick run down Baseline and see what was what.

En route, we swung by Home Depot. Twitter had revealed them open with flashlights and batteries available, and while I had found some more battery-operated camping lanterns, one of our small flashlights that we use at the cottage at night for Jacob had died overnight, and I wanted to get him a new one. Nope, everything was gone. We did snag some Twizzlers though. 🙂

As we were leaving, we noticed the Pizza Pizza was somehow open. Apparently their ovens were working, and there were about 40 people sitting around inside waiting for pizza. About a 40 minute wait. Interesting, but no. Off to Bells Corners. As I neared Greenbank, I noticed that Milano’s was also apparently open, and it occurred to me a bunch of the pizza places could be working their grills. Interesting. Maybe Pizza Hut in Bells Corners too? Apparently not.

But the same stripmall has The Butchery in it. And people were going in and out. Hmm…okay, let’s check it out. They were fully powered, which of course they would need to be with 1000s of dollars of meat in their freezers. Of course, they have a generator. So they were operational, including their indoor food counter. Burgers, hotdogs, fries, onion rings, etc. Why not? I only wanted some stuff to cook for dinner and some buns, but sure, why not lunch too…two awesome burgers, two onion rings, two waters, and we were set. I grabbed some buns on the way out, plus some fresh hotdogs (our fridge had now been off for almost 24 hours, so wasn’t relying on anything in it at that point). Jacob seemed okay with everything, and I thought, “Okay, some normalcy, all good”. And really, how much longer could the power be off? Even if they were saying “maybe days”.

Back home, we played more board games and I had a quick snooze on the couch. J seemed good playing on his dying tablet and reading, but apparently he wasn’t. He grabbed my phone and started texting Mom again. I felt bad as it was her birthday and her weekend away, and she was playing comforter to our worries.

We played some more games until 7:00 p.m., and then I had to call a time out to cook the hotdogs on the Coleman stove. I hooked up the stove to the extra propane tanks from the shed, got it lit, all good to go, and did three hot dogs. Not exactly gourmet cooking, but J chose the menu and I thought, “Why not? It is like camping after all.” We combined it with some dry stuff, all good.

Until right after dinner when Jacob promptly went into the bathroom and started heaving. All I could think was, “Oh bloody hell.” I get stressed under the best of circumstances when J is sick, partly a throw-back to when he was a kid and any little hiccup with feed or nausea was almost always a precursor to something new and different to deal with. A nasty portent of things to come. Except it wasn’t this time. He threw up twice, and was fine after that. He laid on the couch for awhile and then off to bed. Given the day, I followed soon after. I was worried though. He and I had eaten the exact same things for the previous 24 hours, and my stomach wasn’t great, plus I was feeling flushed. Signs of possible food poisoning, which I confess was not on my to do list for the weekend. False worry though.

And before we went to bed, I discussed and agreed to a new plan with Jacob. If we didn’t have power come Sunday morning, we were bugging out.

Sunday

Sunday arrived with the alarm clock again, sigh, but honestly, who was sleeping anyway? I had re-powered the phone and two tablets with my astronomy astropack and for the first time since I’ve owned it, it was actually drained of power. Two nights of 4 hours each of slewing the telescope never drained it but mild use on Friday and recharging other devices like a regular power bank did it in on Saturday.

Still no power, but it was time to start planning #OperationBugout. By this time, it was now apparent that Orleans had full power the entire time, including my brother-in-law and niece, but he isn’t active on FB so had no idea we were even looking for places to go eat, refuel the car, etc. Or crash. Apparently my brother’s house in Stittsville was with power too the whole time. Hello???? 🙂

Anyway, although we had agreed we were going “somewhere”, I was stressed about three things at this point.

  1. Wherever we went, I needed gas in the car. I had about a quarter of a tank, and while it would get me a fair distance, I needed to know wherever I was going would have power at gas stations when I got there so I could get fuel. I had thought about heading out on Saturday to go to Peterborough, but with no power near me, no power in Kanata, questionable power in Stittsville and Carleton Place, it would be Mississippi Mills before I hit a gas station not in the list of affected areas. And if I made it that far, and they DIDN’T have power and gas, we’d be screwed with a capital F.
  2. I wanted Jacob to be able to take his Xbox with him, and not somewhere he would find additionally stressful or someone bugging him to do something else just to get him off the game. He was bored without his games to play, something he looks forward to regularly on weekends, and it would give him some normalcy back pretty quick. His texting was showing signs of frustration and stress, and he had had some tears on Saturday. Poor little monkey. And this is the trooper who never complained once on the flight from hell coming back from Mexico.
  3. I didn’t yet know what to do about the freezers. Both were dead, but I hadn’t opened them at all, and I was hopeful they were still relatively frozen inside. We were coming up on 40 hours of the 48 hour cut-off, so if I was going somewhere, taking the freezer stuff with us was a huge potential plus.

I fully expected to go to Peterborough, but the freezer wasn’t going to work for that. And even if we did go, I needed to go get gas first.

Our friends Mary Ellen and Paul had been affected on Friday and Saturday, but their neighbour helped them out on the freezer front by running a cord from their generator over to power their freezer. Then they got their power back completely, and were offering us refuge. Gas was available en route, they were close by, Jacob loves them both (they like games like Catan and Ticket to Ride too!), and they were happy to let him bring his Xbox. Sold!

Well, I should rephrase. I was sold, but I wanted to give J the options and let him make the decision he was most comfortable with too. I made some toast on the Coleman stove, and while munching, he agreed Paul and Mary Ellen were his preferred option. Our plan was in place.

We packed really badly. Way too many little bags, probably could have left half of it behind. I didn’t tell Paul and ME, but we actually brought enough clothes for three days if need be. Eek! I was cognizant of the Mark Twain quote about house guests and fish both beginning to smell after three days, so I hoped it wouldn’t go that long.

The freezer stuff was really interesting though. I knew we couldn’t take it all with us, just not enough room at the inn, but I wanted to save two things at least. First, the major meat in our pantry freezer. Lots of chicken, pork and beef in varying forms. Actually way too much and we regularly say we should use some of it up. Second, Andrea just did an outing to SupperWorks which is not only a bit expensive but also a bit of work. I couldn’t take a bunch of muffins and things she JUST MADE LAST WEEK, which was a bit sad, but I could take the big stuff. Two big coolers and a small cooler.

Here’s the really interesting part though. I had worked out with Jacob that we would load the car with everything but the food, and we would do that last so that it would minimize time out of the freezer. Usually when we go to the cottage or something, Jacob helps move bags around a bit near the door so I can grab them more easily, but this time he carried stuff out to the car directly for me. Then, when we started the freezer, I asked him to help, and I handed him meat while he put it in the cooler. Normally he would complain everything was way too cold, blah blah blah, but not this time. He was the perfect little helper. Then when the first cooler was full, I took it out to the car and he kept going. More like shoved me aside and took over while I made a run to the car as pack mule. When I got back, the freezer was empty and he was ready to start on the fridge freezer. We did that together too, and we were good to go. About an hour in total from the time I said “go” until we were bugging out. In retrospect, I wonder if part of his engagement was not just simply something to do, but a clear role he could play to help take charge of his situation.

I had heard Costco on Merivale was open, and it was, but not the gas bar. Lights were out all the way to the river, but just after we crossed the bridge to Riverside, a wondrous sight appeared. I knew the strip mall there was open, but the sight to behold was a functioning gas station with only six cars in line ahead of me. I pulled in and was ready to kiss someone. Then, as we sat in line, I realized some people were getting to the front, talking to the woman running the line, and then pulling out and leaving. WTF? Oh, maybe cash only or something? Nope, turns out they didn’t have any regular gas left. Or the next grade. Or even the one after that. They had only the super ultra gas left, albeit at the regular price. I said YOLO and pulled in. But as I started to get ready to pump, I remembered a niggling sentence in the manual for the car about not using the higher grade fuels or something. Anyway, everyone else was, but I still asked one of the workers if the high end hurt the cars if it didn’t require it. He said no, I shrugged and filled the tank.

I couldn’t believe how more secure I felt after having filled the tank. One of my big stressors was gone. If I had to go to Orleans or Peterborough, I was golden. Jacob and I celebrated by going into the store to get popsicles. I joked with him that I felt like we lived in the middle of nowhere and were coming to town to see this new “electric light” technology for the first time, “ooh, lights!”. I felt the same way about functioning traffic lights, like in a one-light town.

We arrived at Paul and ME’s place, unloaded stuff into the entryway and then moved all the frozen stuff into the freezers. It all fit. I couldn’t believe it. Except for two pizzas, which I don’t even know why I tried to save, but they were starting to thaw, so we decided to have those for lunch.

After we started moving stuff downstairs to where we would sleep, Paul took Jacob into the TV room and set up the Xbox right away. It was awesome. I went in about 10 minutes later to check on him and he was lost in the game, everything for him coming up normal for a bit. Eternally grateful just seeing him distracted. He said he was fine throughout, but not only was he texting mom and giving lie to his state, he also insisted on taking his flashlight with us just in case there was another storm or tornado.

We had pizza for lunch, another “normal activity” and we heard a bit about their experience over the previous two days. I didn’t even think of the fact that they’re on well water, so no power = no water, something we didn’t have to deal with at all.

After lunch, I needed to crash. Andrea was on her way back with her sister and would be swinging by the house before joining us, but I had gone two nights with really crappy sleep. With Jacob in excellent hands, I doubt he even noticed me down for the count, and I was out for about three hours I think. With my machine keeping me under. It was awesome.

And Andrea arrived in time for supper, but I thought Jacob would have launched himself at her. Nope, he played it cool. We had a nice old-style Sunday dinner with potatoes, roast beef, veggies and dessert (via Andrea) in the form of apple strudel. Sweet Jesus, it was nice to be back to real food with real cooking power.

Although I have to confess, I had had an option that I didn’t know was safe or not. We have a natural gas BBQ with a direct line off the house. I suspected I could use it in the power outage, but I wasn’t sure if it was safe since I didn’t know if there were any internal regulators that relied on power, for instance. I didn’t want to test it to find out, and I kept forgetting to ask anyone or google it. But since I had the Coleman stove, it wasn’t a big need anyway. Would have been easier though. Except the real problem was not having food to cook without opening the freezer or being able to buy something fresh somewhere. Still, I think if I had known it was workable, I would have risked opening the freezer for more real food. The accoutrements would have suffered, but well, next time, perhaps.

After supper, we played Ticket to Ride on networked tablets which was a lot of fun. And then I surfed for awhile on my tablet, which along with all my other devices, were now fully restored to power. We also saw that the government had basically decided everyone should stay home on Monday and not clog the traffic lanes just to commute. Which was good, cuz I wasn’t going in anyway.

I crashed around 11:00 and slept through the night.

Monday

If I thought the alarm clock going off was jolting, it has nothing on their security alarm going off accidentally first thing in the morning. 🙂 But easy to take in stride when you’ve had a great night’s sleep and power is available.

Shortly after awakening, Andrea had a text from our neighbour — power in our zone was back on! Apparently, it had come on the night before, somewhere between 11:00 and midnight. Or approximately 60 hours after it had gone out.

We had breakfast, I grabbed a hot shower, we played some more Ticket to Ride on tablets, and then we packed up and headed home. We were religiously following news reports on social media and links from friends like Aliza whose home was in a safe zone, and we knew that most people were back up now. Small pockets remained near Jacob’s old and new schools, and it quickly became apparent that J’s school was unlikely to be open on Tuesday either.

We got back home and started the fun of repacking freezers and throwing all the old stuff out. It’s pretty heavy, so we couldn’t fill the garbage bags that full, but we did use four of them to empty everything out, while making notes of all the staples to restock on. Condiments, dairy, juices, veggies, etc. Some of it may have been salvageable, but I have no interest in playing Russian roulette with food poisoning.

By the time we finished, it was lunchtime, and we decided to try our luck out and about while running some other small regular errands like going to the drugstore. Subway was open, and so we grabbed what they had available…paninis, no subs. It was okay, nothing special, just fuel. J was a bit disappointed that he couldn’t have his normal sub though.

Afterwards, we drove around a bit in the area to check on things, go to the drugstore, etc., and make a veggie run to our favorite local produce stand in Bells Corners. Which was open and everything working great. They had had a bit of damage, but easily reset. Then on the way back, we did the bad thing we’re not supposed to do. We played disaster tourist.

I know, I know, we’re not supposed to, but we wanted to see what was going on around J’s school. At least that’s my rationalization and I’m sticking to it. I actually expected detours around the hit areas and then suddenly found ourselves going right by the main hit in Arlington Woods. We weren’t intrusive or anything, just not quite what I meant to do but there’s only one road through that zone. J’s school is fine, from the looks of it, but buildings at the back of the yard took a hit (other properties) and some of the debris is still in their yard. The road in front of the school is still completely blocked off and it quickly became clear even end of day Tuesday would be optimistic for the school.

Then we went back home, cleaned the last of the fridge, put some of our new veggies back in it (yay, us!) and I headed to the grocery store. I had been a bit worried that if I left it too late in the day, it would be decimated by the time I got there. Maybe some small parts had been, but overall, I needn’t have worried — they didn’t have anything to sell in the key areas anyway.

The Independent Grocer off Merivale at Meadowlands is my local grocery store of choice. I hate the huge busy stores; while their selection and price might be a bit better, it’s a lot less stressful at the smaller stores. The fruit and veggie area was heavily picked through, but no more than it usually is after a busy weekend. Fresh salads were all blocked off as not for sale, but bread was plentiful. The deli area was completely bare of all products and obviously no fresh stuff had arrived (there were multiple delivery trucks in the parking lot which is unusual for that store). As I turned the corner, I was surprised a little to see not only was all the regular meat gone, but all the hot dogs and packaged stuff too. If they had generators, apparently they didn’t stay going to the end! Equally, all dairy was blocked off (still on the shelves but not fit for sale) and they had emptied all the freezers of the frozen aisle. Massive loss. I did find Nestle Quik though, even if I didn’t find any milk, so it wasn’t a total loss. 😉 Mostly I just stocked up on things like condiments.

Back home, we restocked part of the fridge, and had BBQ burgers for dinner with nice green beans and apple strudel and cinnamon buns for dinner. The rest of the night was pretty much back to our normal biweekly Monday night activity — cleaning up our crap around the house so the cleaners can come on Tuesday.

Tuesday

I mentioned earlier that J’s school was closed, and it is now confirmed as closed until at least Thursday. Their plan is to reopen Friday, but I won’t be surprised if we get a new message Thursday saying oops. Nevertheless, I had emailed yesterday to work saying that with Jacob off, I was staying home. But I have to confess. With all the stuff still in flux on Monday, I did not feel mentally ready to even consider work today.

Part of the reason I’m working through this blog entry is to help me figure out what’s going on. I wasn’t severely affected, but I feel like I’ve been through a wringer.

Are my recently depleted energies that low that this just taxed them further? Was it worry about Jacob that was ramping me up, like I had to handle it better for him? Was it that Andrea was away and I was helping him alone for a change? Was it that my normal backup support system would be to buy my way out of the situation with accessing local stores and restaurants but those options were not available? Is it that in the event of an apocalypse my family will have to rely on the kindness of strangers to survive? Is it that my sleep was so screwed up that it just didn’t let me cope well for the 48 hours that I really needed it? Is there some other cause, related to the energy question, that is running me down and I’m just resonating with this situation in lieu of the other one? Did the limited gas make me feel “stuck” in the situation, unable to get away, a common ailment from when I was younger with much emotional trauma tied to it?  And who invented liquid soap and why? (Sorry, small Sure Thing movie reference).

Andrea headed off to work today, and Jacob and I stayed home. The cleaners came around 10:00 and we bailed a short while later, headed for Orleans to access the stocked grocery stores. I didn’t need meat, that had been saved, but I did need deli, dairy, and the frozen section. Here’s where my reaction starts to get a bit weird.

J was hungry so we had lunch before our shopping. He didn’t get his normal sub on Monday, so he wanted Subway again. Okay, no worries, in we go. I felt while standing in line that I was somehow in a foreign land. Or, in conjunction with an experience a bit later, more like I wasn’t used to this level of service and selection. Almost like it was gluttonous. At SUBWAY?

Anyway, we finished, went over to Metro, walked in the door, and I felt like I had been living in a developing country all my life and had never seen such opulent displays of available food. I have heard of people returning from postings and having that reaction, which makes sense, but today, *I* was having that reaction. I felt like it was gluttonous again. Overwhelming. Just too much food available. Selfish even, that I could simply walk in and buy what we needed, mere groceries, while people had lost their homes. A neighbour to survivor’s guilt, perhaps, since the simple fickle hand of fate did not touch my neighbourhood or my house? I don’t know.

The feeling passed, but when I was going through the deli, I felt like I suddenly wanted to tell someone MY STORY. The deli woman didn’t care, she was actually quite rude, but why was I suddenly wanting to ask people questions and have them ask me? Was it partly that I am, by nature, not the most social of creatures, but now wanted / craved alternative social attention? I didn’t regale the cleaners at all, and they’re young attractive women. Nor the guy at the Subway. But here, in the opulent grocery store, I suddenly felt the need to talk. Was I trying to ease my guilt by somehow suggesting that I, too, had suffered and was there as a humble refugee seeking food as my homeland had none? WTF?????

We stocked up, three full bins of frozen and dairy. Then again, while going through the cashier line, I suddenly felt desperate to know if they’d been busy, and tell them my short tale of mostly limited woe (oh, scary, I lost power).

In another strange element, I saw that Metro had different brands of back ribs than I have been trying of late…we’ve been taste-testing a bunch, and worked through six different brands, with Jacob, Andrea and I ranking them simply in terms of taste. Why is that relevant? Because as soon as I saw the two other options they had, I immediately HAD TO HAVE THEM TONIGHT. This, after Andrea and I agreed recently that we had been having them once a week for several weeks and could take a break for a week or two, and even then only sporadically. But that didn’t seem to matter to me, this was something NORMAL (I think that’s the reason) and I HAD TO DO IT. Again, WTF?

J and I got home, filled the freezer, played some online games, and then he and I played some board and card games (Dice Forge, alleys/Tok/Tock, and Quiddler). After supper, we forced him into a routine of piano and bath while Andrea and I addressed the more mundane / routine tasks of making lunches and loading/unloading the dishwasher. Normal life again.

Yet as this blog clearly shows me, I don’t feel quite like I’m there yet. I feel like I’m neither back to normal nor even really ready for nornal. I don’t know why, and it puzzles me. I feel almost like it’s some sort of post-trauma reaction, but without the acute trauma. Puzzling.

Posted in Family | Tagged affected, emotions, loss, OperationBugout, Ottawa, power, storm, tornado, weekend | Leave a reply

One of those weekends…

The PolyBlog
March 28 2016

Just under a year ago, I posted a message about feeling loss around the time of Easter (An emotionally difficult weekend). Basically, it’s a holiday that for me has always been associated with my mom. Not that she was a giant “Easter” person with egg hunts and stuff, maybe just because it is at heart a religious holiday and my mother symbolized my Catholic heritage. Since her passing, I’ve struggled with grief in varying forms.

For the first year, most of the time was taken up with logistics of her estate and the grief was kept at bay, at least in part. Then, as time passed after closing the estate, I noticed that I was run down. My normal psychological tools weren’t working either. Normally, if something is bothering me, I have three tools available to me.

First, self-reflection. If I think about things, try to quiet my mind, and simply reflect on the times when things are bothering me and what some of the triggers might be, I can often figure out pretty well who, what and sometimes why. Not always, but it works pretty well. This is a direct result of my tadpole years where I stripped my psyche bare and then rebuilt it by hand. I know the pieces pretty well, and while I can still fool myself, quiet self-reflection is often enough.

Second, I can just tune out completely. Separating myself from whatever is going on, at least mentally, and going to bed, often allows my subconscious to bring it to the surface first thing the next morning. It just pops up like my brain has been working on it all night and the computing is done, ready to spit out the answer card. Doesn’t always work, but sometimes it’s awesome.

Third, I have my “sore tooth” method. This is a bit more mechanical, more linear. Rather than using method one which is more intuitive (getting in touch with my psyche), or method two which is even more intuitive (letting my sub-conscious do it’s own thing), method three is very analytical. I call it the sore tooth method because it is like having a sore tooth — you aren’t exactly sure which of the teeth it is, so you gently probe the area with your tongue. Is it that one? No. Is it that one? No. Is it that…argghhh! Yep, found it.

I can do the same mentally when I’m having a problem. I run through a list of possible causes, test each of them. Is it a conflict with a family member? Is it lack of progress on that goal or any goal? Is it something with work? Sometimes I have to go a lot more granular but the sore tooth usually kicks back a response to guide my analysis.

Of course, I know myself well enough that I don’t have to be so detailed most of the time, but for deeper concerns, one of the three methods will reveal what’s niggling at my subconscious.

In Year Two after my mother died, I knew something was bothering me but I couldn’t figure it out. I tried quiet reflection, and I suspected there was grief mixed in, but nothing came out of my meditation. Sleeping on it didn’t help. When my tongue probed “grief”, no response. None of the my self-analysis was presenting any resonance with me at all. Through work, we have access to the Employee Assistance Program, and I called them for a therapy referral. I didn’t think I needed a psychiatrist, or psychologist, more someone to talk through what I was feeling. I ended up with a retired social worker who does some basic counselling, and I think she is mostly aimed at family practice. I had out-paced my own knowledge and options, and I needed that extra perspective.

We worked through a couple of scenarios, but it was grief that resonated the most strongly with me. Partly as it explained why none of my normal “receptors” were coming back “sore tooth” — since grief often acts like a wet blanket dampening down everything. Almost like an interference layer too. And knowing WHAT it was allowed me to push past some of it, and manage it a little better.

However, as I said last year at this time, I am feeling still the loss of my roots. Peterborough is very clearly part of my past, not my future, and I’ve almost reached the point where I will have lived in Ottawa longer than everywhere else combined. This is my home, my roots are (trans)planted here. Yet at Xmas, I was feeling run down. Not grief exactly, more the isolation factor that I had allowed to creep into my life unchecked and even unrecognized. I felt a distancing, but was in active denial to even probe it, let alone deal with it. Part of my new year’s goals has started to address it, but at Xmas, I was drained. I went to Peterborough for the holidays with my wife’s family, and don’t get me wrong, they’re awesome, but I couldn’t handle the social interaction. I had no energy for it. I’m not an extrovert by any stretch, but this time, I actively had to limit my exposure to groups and even had to spend some of the time in the bedroom reading.

In February, I took a mental health break from work to get my shit together, and I’m slowly rebuilding my energy levels, while also ticking off some goal boxes. Those are not separate things, actually — I re-energize myself with blue energy projects and I’ve been deep diving into book reviews, reading, organizing my website, etc. My energy levels are starting to return. I had enough energy to blast through a bunch of stuff for medical stuff this past month. New dentist, new hygienist, a few torture sessions in the chair to get me back on track for now with a plan for the future. I followed up with the sleep clinic, inspired by a friend’s success, and have my new sleep machine routine going. Not raging success or fully in my habit yet, but improving. Saw my regular doctor, had a checkup on a bunch of things, altered some of my blood pressure meds. Hearing test is next on my list probably, although I might have overdone it with visits this month (more red energy than blue, but came out a bit even I think overall, might need to pause for a week or two). I’ve called the social worker for another session, will set that up likely for next week or two. Kind of a mental tune-up, check in, nothing serious, but I am a bit harsher on a few things of late, adjusting my balance from previous years. I was feeling pretty good as the month wound down.

Which prepared me not at all for Easter. I was smart enough to realize that spending four days in Peterborough would wring me out like a wet towel, but I like the idea of Jacob getting the time to spend with his grandparents. So I convinced Andrea to go on without me, and her and the cub took the bus to Peterborough on Thursday night. In the snowstorm. Not ideal, but actually everything worked out fine for them. Leaving me Thursday night, Friday, and all day Saturday to hang out by myself in Ottawa. It was heaven. I did a deep dive into my computer on Thursday night and emerged sporadically throughout the weekend for food and daylight, and to talk to them on the phone, but not much else. I plowed through 5 years of old files, something I thought would likely take weeks to accomplish, and I did it in a single go on Friday morning. The mental boost was huge. Great plan.

So, gearing up for Sunday morning, I felt like I was going to be good to go. Nope. I slept like crap on Saturday night. Tossed, turned, couldn’t get comfortable at all. Stressed I think about going to Peterborough. Not the family side. I wasn’t even sure what. Until I got in the car and started driving.

It took me forever to even get in the car, hoping to have left by 8:30 and I didn’t leave until just after 11:00. Turned on the radio, listened to some tunes, and every song was unacceptable. I didn’t want to listen to anything. I wanted something to totally distract me, and it wasn’t working. My brain was going 200 miles per hour and my car was doing 60, but I couldn’t distract myself. I hid it from my brain for almost 90 minutes, but as I reached the half-way part of the trip, the music stations start to die, and the landscape changes to farmer’s fields. Just like the landscape out by the lake where we camped when I was growing up. I came around a bend and it was like hitting a wall.

I didn’t want to go just because it was Easter Sunday. I could lie to myself when I was in Ottawa, I could ignore my mother’s absence when I’m there, but Easter Sunday in the town where she lived her whole life? Not a flipping chance in hell of avoiding that hit. There’s nothing to do about it, really, it’s just the nature of the situation. Going to Peterborough is different now. We used to have to adjust our schedule to go see Nan for part of it, do the balancing act of who is having dinner when, maybe cover one year with the inlaws and one year with her, etc. But that is gone now. As annoying as it was, I feel it’s loss.

Don’t get me wrong, I was not a blubbering idiot all day. I just noticed it, that it was weighing me down. Kind of like the lyric, “Hello darkness, my old friend”. And I know that the only way out is through. But yesterday I didn’t really want out. I wanted to feel the grief in part because it is a connection to her. To feel the link that is mostly gone. To feel the place where the sore tooth used to be, I guess.

Dinner was nice, as it always is. There is little drama in my wife’s family, and little tolerance where there might be any. And I suppose in part because I didn’t grow up with all of them, there is no history to get in the way either, no old slights that might trigger drama. At least not for me, nor apparently for anyone else. It’s just easy. Relaxing almost. I love that Jacob not only gets to spend time with his grandparents but also his great grandfather Doug. I never knew my grandparents so it is doubly special for me to see him have the opportunity.

I really had only one particularly painful moment. Bittersweet perhaps. This morning as we were getting ready to go, Jacob was playing on the piano. Nana and Andrea had taught him some of the Sound of Music, since they’re going to the NAC in a few weeks as a big family outing. Jacob loved the movie, likes the music, and he likes playing on the piano. Today, he was actually playing something. Just the Do-Re-Mi song, but he was quietly doing it by himself, practicing and singing, everyone else was gone to other parts of the house and I was sitting back away in the room. He wasn’t playing for ME, he was just playing for himself.

And I felt the stab that I would love to be able to show that to my mom. She would have loved it. So innocent, so pure, so perfect. And that is the greatest source of grief for me I think. That she doesn’t get to share in these moments, except in a metaphysical sense. She loved Jacob, maybe even in part because she knew it was the golden baby of the golden child, the last of her children to have children, her last grandchild. I weep for the fact that Jacob doesn’t get to see or feel her love and pride in his accomplishments. He’s my awesome possum, but she didn’t get to share it enough.

Then the day ends, the weekend ends, and life returns to normal. Another Easter survived. Life continues.

I miss you Mom. Happy Easter.

Posted in Family | Tagged easter, family, grief, heritage, loss, mother, personal, Peterborough | Leave a reply

Grief is a fickle mistress

The PolyBlog
September 29 2015

Grief is one of the strangest emotional processes that I have ever experienced. I never knew my grandparents really, so their loss was quite minor to me. Equally, I wasn’t super close with aunts and uncles, so when they passed, it was relatively unaffecting. My first brush with death was when I was in about grade 3 and one of the kids in our school drowned in a winter creek. I wasn’t close to him, didn’t know him that well, but kind of in line with some of the emotions you see in the movie Stand By Me, there was some sort of effect.

Fast-forward to age 28, and I lost my father. The exact cause wasn’t determined, we didn’t do an autopsy, but he had been a heavy smoker and he had had several heart attacks over the years. In the end, he was having blood clots and the bypasses were only partial remedies. He deteriorated over the course of a year, always bouncing back but never quite as high. So, while it was to be “expected”, it was a shock when he was gone. The big strong man in my life suddenly felled by time and nature. I went through most of my grief alone. It wasn’t something I talked about with people, and for most of the first six months, I shunted it aside to help my mother. But you can only push that aside for so long before it no longer budges.

Looking back, I know I was depressed around age 29 to about age 31, although I didn’t recognize it as such at the time, and am frequently curious looking back to see if it was general depression or simply unaddressed grief, or a combination of the two. I wasn’t happy with my life, and it eventually catapulted me into a difficult five years of self-reflection — what I call my tadpole years — and allowed me to come out the other side with a re-integrated psyche, for the most part at least, and a much greater acceptance of who I am and what I wanted out of life.

Fast-forward again to age 44, and my mother’s passing. She too deteriorated over the course of a year, and very obviously downward in the last 8 weeks as ring-cell cancer ravaged her body. The blessing was that she was without pain throughout that time; the hell was that she was in palliative care and basically not eating anything so that her body would eventually fail. Almost 7 weeks in palliative care. Which gave us time to mentally prepare. Except there is no real preparation I suppose. We talk about it like it will be easier, but who knows? She was 83 years old, she died relatively at peace with her life, loved ones by her side. There are worse ways to go.

Yet the grief hit me far more profoundly and more visibly than it did with my father. I have a better support network now — including my wife, son, my wife’s family, some of my siblings. It’s a different world that I live in now than when I was 27. Yet the grief knocked me on my ass for almost 2 years. The first year was dealing with all the estate stuff. The second year was dealing with emotional stuff.

For me, grief was like a heavy blanket thrown over everything. I was sluggish in all things. My normal senses for detecting problems were dulled, my reasoning flawed. I knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t quite tell what. I am pretty good at figuring out what’s bothering me…I call it the “sore tooth approach”. Kind of like touching your tongue on various teeth, probing to see which one is sore, I do the same thing with emotional issues. I “probe” my psyche…am I worried about money? No. Is it an issue with work? No. Is it this, is it that? And usually I can gauge my response to see if I get a disproportionate level of feedback from my psyche to tell me, “Ah-hah, you’re upset with x or y”. But with grief, I probed my senses to see if it was grief, and got no feedback. Which I interrupted as being “Okay, so it’s not grief.” Yet I kept probing and couldn’t figure it out. I went to see a social worker / therapist through a referral from our work’s Employee Assistance Program, and working through some of the classic signs, we were able to narrow it down from depression or a specific cause to more general dampening from grief.

For me, as I said, it dampens everything. I feel listless. I lose interest in things I normally enjoy, I just don’t get the positive output / feelings from them. I distance myself from others. I feel even less extroverted than normal. The energy required for social settings is a greater tax than normal on my system. I need longer recovery time afterwards to want to be around people again.

So why am I writing about grief? Because it’s hitting me again this week, and from what I would have thought before was an unlikely cause.

A coworker at work lost her husband last week. He was 55, in good health, and the death was both sudden and unexpected. He has two daughters, was training for a marathon, etc. There is very little in his profile, or even my teammate’s, that I can identify with…I don’t know her well, although we work together regularly. We’re not social outside of work. I have a vague recollection of maybe meeting her husband in passing once, but that is all. There’s nothing in this relatively distant event that should trigger grief in me. Sympathy, sure. Compassion, sure. Empathy, maybe, although again, hard to draw a lot of links between loss of a parent and loss of a spouse, so more imagined than from experience.

Yet grief is kicking up its heels over the last week. I feel less patient with delays at work. Things that regularly wash over me with no effect are pissing me off with wild abandon. I feel the urge to tilt at windmills and say, “Seriously? This is your idea of a high-performing organization? THIS is what you waste your time on creating?”. I’m a corporate planner — I drink the kool-aid for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, it goes with the job. Hell, I even have to make it and serve it regularly to others. But my tolerance level is down. I almost blew off dinner with Jacob and Andrea last night as I didn’t want to be around people. Or more specifically, around people I have to interact with. I’d prefer to be faceless in a small crowd, like at a sports bar for wings. I’ll likely go Thursday night.

But planning for the funeral this week has been odd. I often find the dance around visitations and funerals confusing. Generally, my view is that if you didn’t know the people socially, or didn’t work directly with them, your connection is too tenuous to attend the visitation or funeral. While the grieving might find it supportive, I find it too intrusive, almost like an imposition. Some people treat it like a social occasion, to catch up with old friends, but for me, funerals and visitations are about three things only:

  1. Saying goodbye to the deceased;
  2. Paying your respects to both the family and the deceased; and,
  3. Supporting the family through a difficult time.

Nowhere in there is there anything about socializing. If you are close to the family, the order probably reverses; if you are farther away, maybe that is the order. I also generally feel like visitations are for extended family and friends, whereas the funeral is more intimate, more personal, more for family and immediate friends.

So, like most coworkers, you do the dance. My parents would have never had to think about it…there were certain norms they were used to, it was obvious to them whether they went or not, and to which. I never cracked the code, but it was obvious to them. Not so obvious to me. So I debated whether or not to attend the visitation or the funeral, or both. “Neither” wasn’t an option, I obviously feel a strong enough connection to my teammate that I would go, but to what? Similarly at work. I did some in-person notifications, and sent out a nice note to the directorate with the details. We avoided the “group card” where everyone scribbles in corners with something that I thought was potentially weird and turned out quite well — I bought some simple blanks cards and envelopes, pretty much just folded construction paper really, and people are writing notes on them to put in a box for now. We’ll collect them at the end of the week and pass them along. I haven’t written mine yet, will do so likely tomorrow. But it’s going well and giving people an outlet to move forward.

It didn’t, however, solve my question about which event to go to. And then, my wife shared a little phrase that I am sure I heard my mother say a 1000 times and that never really registered with me. “Visitations are for people who can’t make it to the funeral.” Maybe it’s a Peterborough thing, but that resonated with me strongly. And I realized some of my hesitation.

At the visitation, I would feel incredibly awkward trying to comfort the daughters I have never met, or pay respects to the deceased who I also barely met. I would feel like I was intruding in what should be, if not private, at least reservedly intimate or personal. I would feel like a looky-loo at a traffic accident. Whereas the funeral, by contrast perhaps, is more manageable. Part of a large group, no need to intrude into their personal space, their personal grief, their experience of saying goodbye to their husband and father.

And with that decision, my body has released some of its tension. I have been close to tears several times in the last few days, with thoughts of my mom and dad, but never so close as right now writing this. If anyone asks, I’ll swear it’s allergies. 🙂 I found it difficult even talking to people last week — I told about 5 people and that was my limit. I was starting to lose it. Talking about the death of someone I barely knew.

Grief is a fickle mistress who comes into your life, uses you up, and discards you at her whim. But at least I have a way forward. I will attend the funeral. Odd that a simple cliche is what is comforting me today. I should ask my wife for her advice more often. 🙂 Just don’t tell her she sounded like my mom.

Posted in Family | Tagged coworker, family, grief, loss, parents | Leave a reply

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