My husband is in the midst of an art project. We have several transom windows in our house—windows above windows that are about eight feet wide and a foot and a half tall. They let in a lot of light, especially later in the day. A friend suggested we cover the transom windows with stained glass, and my husband fell in love with the idea.

He went out and found a stained glass artist. She has been creating stained glass for years and has taught it at various schools and organizations.

Together, they are building large stained glass windows to cover our transoms. They’ve converted our dining room into a little stained glass workshop. Since Thursday evening, they’ve been hard at work and finished the first window by Saturday evening.

We invited a few friends over to help mount the stained glass in the transom. It was a bit stressful. While stained glass is tough, when a piece is eight feet wide, it’s easy to accidentally bend or break it. The four of us had to carefully coordinate as we carried it to its destination.

Of course, once we mounted the window, someone noticed the number “14” in magic marker on the back side. We had to unmount the window and tilt it forward while I reached behind to erase the 14.

Despite the stress, it turned out well in the end…

Politics... politics... So much of it of late. I try to keep my politics are simple. First, I vote. Second I donate to candidates in purple states. Third, I keep warm up relationships with those who may disagree with me. At this point I'm not under the illusion that I can stop extremists or the over sharing over of fake news. The least I can do is not burn down those relationships.

My friend Clem is thinking about flying to a purple state and participating in a door knocking campaign. I've volunteered for telephone campaigning in the past. Perhaps I'll do so again.

As I get to know my neighbours, I've realized that we are surrounded by a little COVID baby boom. There are half a dozen kids here that are around three and a half years old. All other children are in their mid-teens or older. 

Tuesday was National Night out. Our little neighborhood held a potluck in the street. We meet more of our neighbors, exchanged numbers and took notes. 

@bathwater... get well soon. My sister in law had Meniere's. It can be tough when it flares up. 

We had a house warming party on Saturday. It turned out well. I think about 50 people passed through our doors. We got to know some of our neighbors better. I hope we continue to build these relationships.

We have many leftovers in our fridge and shall be eating pasta salad for a few days. 

C2 has dropped by for a few days. Currently he lives in San Diego, and was a contractor for the military. His last contract was not renewed, so he finds himself without a job.  With his spare time,  he drove up to spend a few days with us. Now he is off to visit friends in Portland, Idaho and Denver.

Wonderful summer weekend. Not too hot. Not too cool. Ate too much-- had dinners and BBQs with three sets of friends. Exercised a healthy amount.

skin care

​I went to my dermatologist today. I am fair-skinned and prone to various skin anomalies. Nothing dangerous, but there's always some bump or growth that I want an expert to look at.

The dermatologist examined, poked, prodded, and biopsied various bumps and spots on my body. He also offered some advice: I am beginning to develop "old guy skin." The bumps and spots will become more common in the years to come, and I will need to be more diligent about regular checkups and sun care.

Sigh

Seattle is lovely this time of the year. Temperatures are pleasant. 

My husband's step father has passed away. The relationship between my husband, his mother and his step father was always strained. None the less, my husband is planning to attend the funeral. 

Sunday was a horrible travel day. Our trip back took ten hours longer than expected and had three delayed connections.

But, we are back home. 

Leaving

​Our week in the Valley is over. It was good to catch up with family. 

One of my brothers and his wife are staying with my father for two more weeks. He will help dad clean up the property, get it back in tip-top shape.

Dad lives on a lovely fifty acre bush lot. It takes alot of maintenance without which the trails and fences will vanish in the growth. Dad puts much effort into this, but, as he says, his body is constantly reminding him that he is eighty. So, this brother spends some extra time with dad each year to complete the more difficult chores. 

The Task…

Dad has given us a job. He has asked us to remove Mom's clothes and jewelry, to split the jewelry as we see fit and then donate or throw out the rest.

It's a little weird going through Mom's effects. She was frugal and never threw anything out. As her dementia advanced, she started saving papers and masks in plastic bags... so many masks buried under piles of clothing. 

It is heartwarming to read her old cards one last time. She kept them too

In the Valley

We are up in the Ottawa Valley for the week, visiting my family. Since Mom's passing last winter, this is the first time in years that we've been here and Mom's care hasn't been our main priority.

It's pleasant here. Temperatures are in the high 70s. Everything is verdant green, with many flowers in bloom.

Selling a house involves signing and initialing many documents. For previous houses, we've visited escrow companies to do this. This time around our documents are all esigned and remote notarized. 

Today, the husband is on the east coast for work. We just got off a video call with a remote notary. She verified our ids, walked us through documents and then had us esign them. Very convenient,. 

With that, our part of the paper work is over. I understand that the buyer has also signed and sent his funds to the escrow company. If everything goes well, our sale will complete on Thursday.

Monday evening,  we accepted an offer for the old house. It was a very good offer. Now all we have to do is pull out the staging and keep the plants watered before until the new owner takes over.

It's easy to be sentimental about the old house. It was a great place to quarantine during the pandemic. I hope the new owner takes good care of it. 

Our old house is on the market. There have been a few showings all ready. The old house has a video doorbell that lets us see and hear conversations around the entry. It is tempting to listen in to discussions.

Guests have been coming through our new house. An old friend of the husband is spending a few days here. I had some coworkers over last night. Our new house is much closer to where young singles live, so it's easier to host dinner and drinks for them. 

At our new home, we have rented the dadu. The renter is the daughter of a friend.

The old home goes up for sale on Thursday. It's clean and well staged. The photographer did a great job taking pictures.

Now we wait. 

We are over the hump when it comes to the move in. The house is more usable than not. Most of what remains can be sold or donated. 

Our new house has a dadu-- detached accessory dwelling unit-- a studio apartment above our garage. We will meet our first potential tenants later today.  

We've also invited our first guests over. A nice forcing function to get everything into ship shape. 

The past week has been a whirlwind. Despite juggling multiple projects, we managed to pull off a surprisingly smooth move. The movers worked tirelessly for 11 hours, ensuring that most of our belongings found their place in our new home. On Sunday, we enlisted the help of our cleaner and her sister to tackle the remaining unpacking and organization.

As we settled in, we faced decisions about what to keep and what to discard. Some knick-knacks and decorative items didn’t quite fit our new space. For instance, I questioned the need for my five-year service award from my old job when I also have a fifteen-year award. Perhaps it’s time to part with both? We’re considering donating or even having a yard sale.

Working from home during the pandemic, my husband and I used to claim any available space. Our makeshift offices lacked intentional design. Now, with this move, we’ve taken the opportunity to organize and transform our rooms into proper workspaces.

Back at our old house, we’ve completed painting, cleaning, gardening, and touch-ups. Soon, it’ll be staged listed for sale which should be next Tuesday.

Tuesday, we received the keys to our new house! This weekend, we hired movers to handle the heavy lifting. Meanwhile, my husband and I are shuttling back and forth, bringing over essentials, tricky-to-pack items, and lightweight belongings. Currently my vehicle is full of pillows and cushions.

As we get acquainted with our new abode, we’re discovering its unique features and charming quirks. Fortunately, nothing major has cropped up—except for a corner of the house that’s been invaded by ants. Time to call in the pest control experts!

Our new house follows a different philosophy of living compared to the old one. Although it’s roughly the same size, it offers less storage space but compensates with more living and presentation areas. The layout feels more spacious, yet when it comes to stashing things away, we find ourselves searching a bit more. This shift is prompting us to confront the items we store but rarely use.

Surprisingly, the new house boasts a wine fridge and two wet bars with an ice maker. Despite our sobriety and moderate drinking, we’ll find creative ways to utilize these amenities.

Moving

​A lot is happening over the next week. On Tuesday evening, we get the keys for the new house. The main move is scheduled for the following Saturday. Between Tuesday and Saturday, we're having the carpets cleaned and moving what we can. The packing and planning causes a certain amount of tension, but my husband and I have lovingly promised each other that we won't divorce in the next two months. This promise will hold through the stressful transition.

We are buying a new home.

It's a nice home, slightly smaller than our current house. It's in a much more walkable neighborhood.

There is a little bit of drama. To prep for selling our current house, we had it inspected. The inspection came back clean. Unfortunately, part of the inspection was a sewer scope. After the scoping, the inspector didn't properly reinstall the cap. So, for the past few days we've had a slow drip out of the sewer. It doesn't look like there has been major damage. It does make your heart sink though.

 SB has passed on. He passed peacefully with his daughter and a friend with him. 

We have spent the past few days in North Carolina with some old fiends of a the Husband's.

Saturday we attended their daughter's graduated university. We also helped her pack for a move. It was a long emotional day. That evening we drove down to Surf City NC to enjoy a week a the beach. It's very pleasent here. The weather has largely cooperated. Even the rain has been warm and gentle enough that walking in it is pleasant. 

Travel day

​i’m heading out this morning. I’ve already said goodbye to dad. He cried a little then left for his morning bus route.

It’s a travel day for me. I am already getting notices that my flights are delayed.

We have designed and put a down payment on a tombstone for mom and dad.  We put much thought into it. It's simple and elegant-- very similar to other family tombstones, yet reflects my parent's tastes. Mom's side has a little decoration on it. Dad wanted his side to be plain. 

My brother and his wife have just left the family farm for their return trip home. I'm staying a few more days then flying off to a week of vacation with my husband.

The interment was lovely. It was well attended by family. The weather cooperated.

I'm realizing how little I actually know about much of my extended family. I recognize their names and faces, but I probably wouldn't travel to their funerals. Perhaps I'm overthinking this. Most of the family is retired and lives within a 15-minute drive of the church. A few live a few hours away. Only my brother and I must travel across the continent.

My brother puts much effort into memorizing family dates and names, births, marriages, and deaths. On Sunday, we toured other family gravesites. He noticed that I have a cousin who was born less than three months after his parents' marriage. Dad had a good laugh. Dad has always known that uncle and aunt had a shotgun wedding. They kept it hidden as my aunt was training to be a nurse in a city that only had Catholic hospitals. The secret was kept well enough as my aunt went on to have a successful career in nursing.

And my father—he is doing well. There are moments when a little grief creeps up on him. But, by and large, he is in good spirits. He is taking much better care of the house than the last time we were here. He regularly visits neighbors and relatives. He is also enjoying his job as a school bus driver.

May Internment.

​I am back in the Ottawa Valley for my mother’s interment. “What is an interment?” I hear you ask. Well… my mother died last February. In this part of the world, in February, the ground is deeply frozen. People who die in the winter can’t be buried at that time. The burial then, the interment, happens sometime in spring after the thaw. We get together and host a mini funeral. 

My brothers will also be at the internment as will other family. One of my brothers and I both flew red eyes into Ottawa. We will drive the last leg up to my parents home together. 

Every few years I must relearn why I shouldn’t fly red eyeS. They sound attractive— they are less expensive and I can travel without loosing a day, In practice I sleep badly on the jet and can only get a couple hours of shut eye. I’ll be exhausted today. Fortunately, being exhausted is acceptable at a funeral. 

Last night the topic of our next move came up. It started off as an argument, but ended as a good discussion. I think we got to the core of differences-- the mortgage and monthly bills. I feel very safe and comfortable in our current house. It's a fantastic investment and it will alway be easy to sell. I am in no rush to change that.

The mortgage keeps the husband on edge. He feels like he can't even consider retirement until we live somewhere else. Owning our residence out right would give him piece of mind. Work has been very stressful on him for the past few months and he feels like he has no option but to keep working. He would love to transition to a less stressful job. He seems to be uncomfortable about retiring unless I retire with him.

I think that I'm in my early fifties, in my peak earning years and working in an industry that has a history of ejecting its elders. Doors will close should I hint that I'm looking at retirement.

My mother-in-law has bought a new dog. From what I understand, it will be a four-pound Shih Tzu. My husband and mother-in-law will pick it up at the airport this afternoon.

When my mother-in-law first mentioned she was purchasing a dog, I saw my husband try to hide his emotions. He forced his face to look neutral. My mother-in-law has owned several Shih Tzus over the years. Historically, instead of training the dogs to relieve themselves outdoors, she has let them use pee-pads indoors. The smell in her previous home was terrible. Neither of us have fond memories of them.

My mother-in-law is an 85-year-old woman who lives alone. She has friends at her retirement home, but like others in their 80s, they are passing away. If a dog will bring her some happiness, then let it be.

Work appears to be calming down. It's all over except for the slide decks.

The husband and I continue our house hunt. We've been arguing about it a little. He says he wants to visit open houses for fun. But when we are actually looking at a particular house, I get this feeling that he is ready to leap, to sell our house and start something new.

I think he would say that our retirement is coming up, that he wants to be prepared, and that I am passive-aggressively dragging my feet.

What does my transition to retirement look like? In my fantasy world, I get a job with less stress. My husband is looking for something similar. He is uncomfortable retiring before I do. I've encouraged him to retire before I do, but it's very important to him that we are on equal financial footing.

We had dinner with SB last night. He seems to be in good spirits. SB has problems speaking loudly for longer stretches, so a friend shared more details. SB has been assessed by a psychologist and a 2nd doctor and qualifies for the assisted suicide. Sometime in the near future, SB, SB's daughter and another friend will travel somewhere for the actual process.

Allan and Even have bought a new home. They have moved a little farther away from Seattle. It's a nice home and not far away from the water. It is in the flight path the SeaTac Airport. Outside there is jet noise every few minutes. Inside, with the windows closed, it is pleasant.

Their move has renewed my husband's and I discussion about our next home. I've been able to put off thinking about our next home. The husband has not. He still regularly searches through the apps for great houses.

We both agree that moving where in SeaTac's flight path, while very affordable, is not something we want. 

I try to limit this blog to my personal experiences, but sometimes outside stories creep in.

SB - I've known SB for years through my husband and the rooms of AA. He is in his eighties and has a few health problems - Parkinson's and Multiple Sclerosis. A few days ago, my husband was invited to a Celebration of Life Party for SB. Of course, we assumed that SB had passed away. My husband brought this up with a friend. The friend corrected him - SB is still alive but is choosing medically assisted suicide. The Celebration of Life will be his sendoff.

This sets off all sorts of emotions in me. I don't think I could make this choice. But having watched my mother slowly decline and die, there is something to respect about choosing how you die when your future is a certain decline.

These past two week at work have been stressful. We've had a bunch of service emergencies. The emergency has quieted down. Now the executives are digging in and trying to understand what went wrong. Fortunately, so far my team is unscathed. The fingers are being pointed at a partner org who has failed to execute. 

I feel little like I'm whistling past the graveyard. My org has plenty of its own challenges. 

Roderick Asks: What Is a Vibrant Gay Community?

The succinct answer is that a vibrant gay community is a place where I don’t find myself complaining about my surroundings.

We seek a community where we can stroll to restaurants and shops, and where we have a few gay neighbors. Currently, we reside in an extremely suburban neighborhood, teeming with families and school-age children.

Deciphering my husband’s priorities is a challenge. His desire to be free of our mortgage is clear. Beyond that, he grapples with the ensuing trade-offs. If we purchase a house outright, the budget we’ll need necessitates a significant lifestyle adjustment. Not necessarily a negative change, but certainly a shift.

Wishing everyone a joyful Easter! On Sunday, we hosted an Easter brunch for my mother-in-law and a few friends.

We have paused our search for a new home. My husband sensed my hesitation. We had a good discussion as a result.

I think he was a little miffed at me for encouraging him yet not being all in.

It has cleared up a lot of what we need to settle on before retirement-- how much we want to have in investments, where we want to live, what our commute can be like while we are still working.

I am also comforted that, with very little searching, we found three great houses. If they are that common now, we will find them again in five years. 

Roderick commented...

Do you really want to be compelled to drive - one day each week - for THREE HOURS in all types of weather in the years remaining until your retirement? Are the house itself and its location attractive enough to justify so doing? Roderick

Agreed. On that front, we've spotted a condo closer to home that could be a nice "forever home." It meets many of the requirements-- a great walk-able location with a view, we can buy it without a mortgage, and the commute isn't too bad.

It's much smaller than our current house, so we would need to greatly downsize. It's also not an ideal condo for guests to have an extended stay as the second bedroom is small. Maybe that's OK. We generally don't have many guests.

It's also less of an investment and more of a luxury. That doesn't overly concern my husband, but it is something I keep in mind.

Something I've learned about myself through our property hunt is that financial security is probably the thing that drives me the most. Usually, it manifests itself in healthy ways-- we never have credit card debt, and we invest much of our paychecks.

There is an unhealthy side to this-- being cheap to the point of negligence, being cheap and not frugal. This is common in my family. I have relatives, including my father, who brag that they live on less than $40K a year. I know I'll receive a certain amount of blowback from these relatives for acting better than them, for not living a simple, humble life, for not donating my money to causes important to them.

Most of my relatives would likely be happy for me.

And maybe I shouldn't care about the judgements of either.

My father is going to drive the school bus again. He drove the school bus for years after his retirement but stepped away from it about six months ago to take care of mom. His bus driver's license subsequently lapsed. When we were talking today, he told me he had passed his test and would start driving again next week. His old employer was grateful to have him back.

It's been four years since the start of COVID-19 and quarantine-in-place orders. Four years since my frequent gazing out the window revealed a Rufous hummingbird that was dominating our backyard.

The Rufous hummingbird is back, though I can't say with certainty that it's the same one migrating back to our yard every year. 

As always, he is way more territorial than the other hummingbirds in the area. When I'm outside, I frequently hear him dive-bombing and chirping at other birds.

What a gorgeous day! I went on a hike with some old friends earlier. Even though we brought jackets just in case, a t-shirt was all that was necessary thanks to the beautiful warm weather.

For some time now, my husband and I have been keeping an eye on real estate listings in various areas around the Pacific Northwest. These could potentially be our future retirement home. We love our current house, but it's simply too large for just the two of us. We'd also prefer to live closer to a vibrant gay community and be within walking distance of shops and restaurants. Additionally, Seattle real estate has become quite pricey. By relocating elsewhere, we could pay off our mortgage entirely and still afford a wonderful home.

This past Saturday, a very nice property popped up on the market west of Puget Sound that ticked many of the boxes for both of us. My husband was quite excited about it and reached out to a real estate agent right away. As expected, the agent asked the obvious financial questions - are we truly ready to make such a move?

The property is about a 90-minute drive from where I currently work. Now, while I only commute to the office once a week these days, I find myself hesitating. Is this the right timing for such a life transition? It's an odd feeling, but I'm just not quite ready to pull that trigger yet. My husband and I have had some good conversations unpacking these thoughts. When will we both feel prepared to take that next step? Only time will tell.




Let me know if you'd like me to modify or expand anything in this combined draft blog post.

One month

​This past week marked the one-month anniversary of mom's death. We called dad that night. It was somber, yet also optimistic that every week gets a little better.

I was cleaning up my notes this morning, and I found the list of hymns that we sang at mom's funeral. I'm recording it here for my own personal reference:

Amazing Grace Great is Thy Faithfulness The Lord is My Shepherd Abide with Me

A few days before mom‘s passing, our minister and his wife were over to visit. They sang the Lord is my shepherd together. I don’t consider myself an active Christian, but listening to them sing was one of the most beautiful moments of my life.

Oahu

My husband and I are spending a week in Hawaii. He has business to attend to, while I am working remote. Naturally, my brothers tease me a bit during our conversations. “But I am working here,” I insist.

“Why don’t you work from Dads home? It’s only -2 degrees.”

They do have a point.

My husband has decided to retire from his job. It's been a long, tough decision. I don't think he's going to retire-retire. He's frustrated with his current manager and sees no way out. Retiring offers more benefits than quitting, so he's filed to retire in a few months but plans to use some of that time to look for another job afterward.

Friday Update... My husband's VP reached out to him and found a better role for him away from his current manager.

 

I am experimenting with AI again. I've discovered an AI tool (GPT4ALL) that allows me to run chat bots on my home computer. It feels like chatting with a stoned librarian. It seems to handle grammar and spelling well, but fact checking and math-- warning, warning, danger danger.

I think I could use it to generate ideas or to copy edit a document that I later verify with other sources. I would not rely on it for learning or finding facts.

Dad grew up on a farm about five miles down the road from where he currently lives. After he married, he and Mom bought a farm next to his parents' farm, as did a few of his brothers and sisters. Dad has spent his whole life surrounded by family.

Now, he's an eighty-year-old man who finds that all of his siblings have either passed away or require assisted living. Without Mom, he's alone and unsure what to do with his time.

My brothers and I have started calling him every day. I've invited him over to our place, though I'm not sure he wants to travel.

The community is also there to help. I've heard that other widowers in the neighborhood have stopped by for coffee. There's also a community club just down the street, always looking for volunteers for maintenance.

Hang in there, Dad.

Life is returning to normal. My brother has a job interview next week. So he and my sister-in-law are departing later today. I fly out early Saturday morning. 

Friday evening Dad and I had dinner at his favorite restaurant-- a lovely local Schnitzel Haus. Some of the waitresses who have worked at this restaurant for years learnt of mom's passing and offered their condolences. 

Mom has been popping up in my dreams. Not as a ghost, or warning, or to deliver a message. Just someone present, paying attention, trying to understand what's going on. I look forward to these dreams.

I look forward to home, to spending time with my husband and dog, sleeping in my bed, going back to my routine, to my exercises and hikes.

Third Weekend, Wake and Funeral.

​The past few days have been a whirlwind of visits and planning. Saturday, my husband flew in. It was wonderful to have him around. 

Monday afternoon and evening were dedicated to Mom’s wake, which was well attended by relatives, friends, neighbors, and fellow parishioners. Ninety people signed the guest book.

The funeral took place late Tuesday morning, with many relatives present whom I haven't seen in more than a decade. The pastor delivered a moving sermon, and I had the honor of giving the eulogy.

Among the attendees were my friends GM, J, and SG. GM's husband passed away last summer, and she mentioned that last night marked the first time she hadn't slept in her home since his passing, making this trip doubly emotional for her.

Emotions have been catching me off guard as well. One moment I'm fine, and the next, a memory of Mom overwhelms me, and I get choked up.

The Planning Begins

​The night of Mom's passing, while we were out for dinner, my brother asked how I was feeling. I responded that I was exhausted but felt lighter and relieved. He said he understood. Taking care of Mom was a huge burden on us all. 

For the first time in weeks, we all slept through the night and slept in the next morning.

While we have been preparing for the wake and funeral, we have been collecting photos and sifting through Mom’s possessions.

Over the past two years, as Mom’s dementia progressed, she would frequently lose her purse. After searching, we’d find it in strange places. It became clear that Mom was losing her purse because she hiding it from who knows, then forgetting about it. About a year ago, the purse just vanished, not to be found again…

Until last night. Dad found it in the back of her closet, underneath blankets.

Life moves on.

​Mom passed away this morning.

Yesterday Mom was struggling to breathe and much more disconnected than usual. As the evening approached, her breathing became very agitated and labored. The nurse gave her sedatives to help her to relax. My brother and sister-in-law stayed up with Mom through the night.

This morning my sister-in-law and I were discussing mom’s care and how it needed to change. Then the room got very quiet. Mom had stopped breathing. My SIL checked on her and asked me to gather the rest of the family. We gathered around and said our goodbyes. 

The rest of the morning has been a blur phone calls and discussions. 

This has been the most heartbreaking and loving thing I have ever been through. 

Second Weekend

The days go by quickly. Relatives, nurses, service workers regularly pop in and out of our house. 

Saturday, I managed to getaway for a short hike. I enjoy the peace and quiet. 

Mom's conditions continue to evolve. Every day brings new challenges of varying degrees. It's stressful on our family and the cracks are showing. 

As I joked to a friend "I need to teach collaboration and teamwork to people who learnt from the oil patch and the barn yard." Of course, some of that is on me. I have to accept my family for who they are, not presume that it's my place to coach to them to be more effective, whatever that means.

Ups and downs. Victories and losses.

Mom's strength has improved over the past week. Her lung capacity has greatly declined. She is now strong enough to standup from her chair without assistance. This activity exhausts her and she collapses.

Two days ago my brother said it may be OK for me to fly back to Seattle as our mother had adequate family and medical support for the current situation. Last night he said he changed his mind, the decline in her lung capacity has all of us concerned. 

The weather is wonderful today, sunny and crisp. It reminded me that winter can be lovely.

We continue to refine our system, our roles and plans. The medical system provides much support for end-of-life care at home, but you have to know what to ask for. Part of that is getting the family to understand and agree on the options.

Yesterday, Mom spent much of the day sleeping. In the evening, Dad and I helped her into bed before we  watched a bit more TV. Later, as I was heading to bed, I heard Mom calling out. She was attempting to get out of bed but had become entangled in the blankets. I carefully untangled her and provided comfort, although she expressed a reluctance to lie back down. Instead, she wanted to be with Dad. I gently sat her up, placing my arm around her for support.

In her slow and labored voice, she began to speak. It became evident that she was aware of her fading memory. She explained how she had no grasp of her location or how she had arrived there. She knew that was wrong. That scared her. The only certainties she held onto was that I was her son, and that that Dad was somewhere out there. Patiently, I reassured her, explaining that she was in her home, in her bedroom, and that Dad would join her shortly. This seemed to offer solace, and her breathing gradually relaxed. I continued on, telling her that family would always be near to her, even if she couldn't see us.  I asked her more about how she felt.  She struggled to articulate her thoughts and spoke a few sentences that ultimately trailed off.

First Weekend

​We've settled into our routines, caring for Mom, who is now more disabled than she was at Christmas. Despite this, she seems more at peace and accepting of our assistance.

Moving Mom safely now requires two people. My middle brother and his wife have been invaluable in providing much-needed help. My sister-in-law, a healthcare worker, is well-versed in her job and has been teaching us how to lift and transport the disabled, as well as helping me manage Mom's medical care.

While here, I'm navigating life and missing my husband, but I won't rush back. I'm preparing some old snowshoes and cross-country skis for use this winter… a way to appreciate the valley for what it is.

For all the stress there is on my family, things are going about as well as can be expected. We have switched mom from curative to palliative medicine. That quickly changed mom's medical care. Out went a prohibition against drinking alcohol. Now the doctor recommends we break out the good stuff. Soon our home will have a hospital bed, a commode and other supplies for supporting someone is getting weaker every day.

And I am back in the Ottawa Valley.

On Sunday afternoon, Dad called me. He was on the verge of tears. He explained that Mom was getting weaker every day—barely eating and struggling to stand up. Someone needed to be by her side even when using the toilet.

I flew up later on Sunday afternoon. Fortunately for me, Ottawa isn't a popular destination in January, making last-minute seats easy to get and not too expensive.

My husband (Thank you, sweetie!) is taking care of home and the dog while I am away.

My brothers and I have planning to do. My sister-in-law, who works in elder care, has reminded us that Mom could live for weeks or months. There is no way to know for sure.

I've been sorting through palliative care options with my father. Mom is not suffering, but she is very floppy, having difficulty moving or sitting up in her chair. My sister-in-law is teaching us how to move Mom safely without hurting our backs or manhandling her. For now, Mom will stay at home.

I want to understand how quickly we could get Mom into a proper hospice if she starts experiencing pain. To answer that, my job for now is to project manage the different care providers. Dad doesn't know how big hospital systems operate, what questions to ask, or how to be assertive in seeking information. He tends to be too polite and passive, trusting that all care providers will get back to him when needed.

And how is Mom? She is quiet, tranquil, and claims not to be in pain. My sister-in-law agrees. There are no signs of wincing or flinching. Mom sleeps a lot, listens when you talk to her, and smiles and laughs a little. Maybe she'll ask you to repeat yourself when she doesn't understand, and then she lays back and naps a bit more.

The doctor and dad have talked. Mom has stage four cancer. The doctor recommends palliative care instead of treatment. 

My brothers and I have discussed. While we don't know how long mom will live, we want to spend time with her while she can still appreciate our visit. I'm planning to fly up for a month. That's a large commitment. I need to coordinate that with my husband. We will need to figure out dog care as my husband frequently travels for work and I take care of our dog when he is out. My work should be OK with this. I'll be able to work from my parents place, though with east coast hours.

My brothers and I will stay at our parents place for this trip. One struggle with that is the spare bedroom mattresses are old and uncomfortable. They are literally the beds and mattresses we had as kids. Dad is not one to spend cash on creature comforts. My brother joked.... "If those mattresses were good enough for you when you were a kid, then they should be good enough for you as an adult." 

We are sending some mattresses to our parents. As remote as my parents are, Amazon ships there. 

My youngest brother will drive up to my parents tonight. The neighbors and family have been updated to give dad some space. When dad is ready, the visits will begin.

My home office window overlooks our backyard, where a hummingbird feeder has been attracting these birds for years. This morning, I noticed that the feeder had frozen due to first big dip in temperatures. This is not uncommon in the Pacific Northwest winter. Hummingbirds are equipped to handle it.

Midway through the morning, I received an email that the results of my mother’s latest chest scan were available. My mother is on the decline, sleeping more, coughing more, and eating less. My father asked me to call when the results came in, hoping they would point to the cause.

And they did. My mother’s lung cancer has returned. My husband and I read the file together, and he helped interpret the dense language spoken by doctors.

I don't think I could process the emotions of the situation so when I looked up and saw a hummingbird buzzing around the frozen feeder, I decided that I immediately needed to help the hummingbirds by providing them with a thawed feeder. I made some new hummingbird food and swapped out the frozen feeder for the fresh one with the new liquid food. Two hummingbirds rapidly flew to it, but instead of sipping from the feeder, they attacked each other and then flew away. This happened a few times. They are so greedy and territorial.

After a while, a lone hummingbird came back to the feeder and took a long drink rather than its usual quick sip. He flew away, and then the other flew in. Things could be so much better for them if they knew how to share.

I video called my parents and shared the news. My father’s voice wavered a little. I think he was also a little relieved. The cancer explains my mother’s symptoms.

Mom was frustrated with the conversation. Her dementia doesn’t allow her to remember events more than five minutes ago, so we had to catch her up and be as simple and blunt as possible about the situation: she has lung cancer, but it has not spread beyond the lungs and is treatable. In a few days, dad and she will discuss treatment with the doctors.

After the call with my parents, I informed my brothers and a close cousin. We will talk later and decide what we must do and how we can help.

Work is a peculiar blend of pressure and relief. The relief comes from the absence of upper management and some colleagues who are either sick or on vacation. The pressure, however, is due to the looming deadlines for significant commitments next week. Those present are striving to complete as much as possible to prevent a crisis. In the meantime, I’m making decisions that ideally require our VP’s input, hoping there won’t be too much to rectify upon his return.

The chill of winter is finally upon us. The season’s first snowflakes are gently falling outside my window. This morning, a hummingbird was spotted at our feeder, preparing for the cold snap.

On a personal note, I’m working to minimize distractions and reduce my reliance on my cellphone. I haven’t completely abandoned social media, but I’ve stopped checking my cell first thing in the morning and only use it when necessary during the day. This change has freed up more time for me to engage in activities of my choice, such as writing, reflecting, thinking, and exercising.

These minor distractions are everywhere. Even opening a web browser for work presents enticing notifications that attempt to divert my attention from my tasks.

Back to work

​This week at work remained calm with many colleagues still on vacation, I focused on preparations for an upcoming meeting. This was a little challenging with the absence of key collaborators.

Saturday we caught up on errands, such as packing away Christmas decorations and organizing the garage, lunch with the mother-in-law plus a garbage run and grocery shopping for the week. A productive day.

New Year

​Vacation is over. Flying back to Seattle now. We have consumed far too many sweets. My belly has grown. Maybe we shouldn’t call something delicious if it makes you feel like a bloated cow.

It was wonderful to catch up with friends. I’ve known many of them for years, decades really. Together we’ve gone through many of life's challenges.

We spent as much time with GM as we could. Her husband passed away last July. She has recovered well, though this is her first Christmas as a widow. Her husband didn’t have a will. This has slowed down probate. Financially, she’s OK, but the extra delays are frustrating.

My husband and I also don’t have a will either. There is a draft that we’ve been kicking around for over a year. We need to get that done.

A few of us are also starting to experience parents who have aged to the point where they struggle to take care of themselves. No easy solutions here. We can only patiently support each other through the heartbreak of watching your parents in the last decade of their lifes.

My husband and I are also having good discussions around where we want to retire. It won’t be Toronto. Perhaps we’ll stay there now and then when the weather is pleasant. Winter is too cold and gray.

We are within three or four years of having enough savings that retirement won’t be a financial shock. We still have to answer the question “What will we do with our time? What shall we do with our lives?” A life with little more than travel and socializing would drive me nuts. So, here I am in my fifties reasking that age-old question “What is the meaning of life?” Perhaps I am better able to tackle that question now than I was in my youth. Nonetheless, the question still stands