Yes, Virginia, There Is A Santa Claus

Ron loved this saying.  He believed.  Ron loved everything Christmas.  He played his Christmas music all year.  He loved all the Christmas classic movies like Miracle on 34^th Street, Scrooge and Polar Express.   When we lived in our house he started a Santa collection and had always wanted a snow glove collection.  Living aboard was not the ideal time to enhance or start any Christmas collections.

Heck one year Ron purchased the 'fireplace' dvd so we would have a crackling warm fire on the boat for Christmas dinner.  That's my Ron!

Candles were also a big part of Ron’s life.  He was the romantic of the two of us.  There never needed to be a reason to light and enjoy the soft glow of a candle.  It was romantic and so was my husband.

It occurred to me that if I was going to enjoy Christmas in any way I had to incorporate and keep alive the spirit of Ron.  I stretched my brain to come up with a solution that felt so right it would put a smile on my face and fill my heart with joy.

First, there is the challenge every year of making Christmas possible for those less fortunate.  Ron and I have always been generous to each other all year.  I took time to write a heartfelt but brief note in a card to explain how this donation came about.  Then I took the amount that I would have spent on Ron put it in the card and donated it to Santa’s Anonymous through CFAX Radio Victoria.  This was all I needed to get started.  The next idea just appeared.  It was what to do for our kids, Stewart, Meghan, Kirsten and Ryan. 

In the spirit of Ron I knew exactly what I would get them.  Unbeknownst to me, the first step was far more difficult than I could ever have imagined.  Simply put, I could not go to the Mayfair Mall.  I drove around and around and around then drove away.  I could not bring myself to park and shop.  I had intended to shop at the newly created Christmas store. 

In the meantime, it was agreed that I would have Christmas with Stew (and family) and Meghan (and husband Blair) on December 10 in the Comox Valley.  I would celebrate with Kirsten and Ryan at a later date in Victoria.  This would work!  I was excited but now I really had to go into the mall.  In I go.  Good on me.  Out I went.  I could not bring myself to go into the Christmas store.  As anxiety set in, I bolted. 

Time was running out; the tenth was drawing near.  Into the store I go.  My goal was to purchase four Christmas snow globes; one for each of our kids.  This was the spirit of Ron coming alive at Christmas.  I stepped into the store and simultaneously the tears started to flow.  I sobbed and sobbed.  My vision was bleary.  I forced myself to walk around the store no less than three times to ensure that I had noticed every snow globe so I could pick four.  It did not happen.  I once again abruptly left empty handed. 

I had seen what I wanted I just had to muster up the courage to carry through.  On the morning of December  9^th I had no choice.  One day before our Christmas I mustered up the courage, marched in and objectively made the purchases.  There, the first step was done.  It only took three or four tries. 

Next, I purchased each of the kids a Christmas music CD – something Ron would have liked.  And then, I purchased each of them a pillar beeswax candle.  This gift was all Ron.  His spirit will live on at the homes of our children.  Needless to say, tears were shed when I explained the significance of their gift. 

From the kids, for their gifts to me, early in December I had requested they give to others less fortunate so those children could have a Christmas. The joy of giving temporarily released my heart from the pain of my loss.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. 

November 2011

November has been a month of mixed emotions.  In fact, I could easily say that the six weeks starting November 1 have been hell. I started back to work.  The routine has been excruciating.  The routine makes me feel like I am in prison and it is just another reminder Ron is not with me. We shared each moment of the mornings until he kissed me good-bye outside my work building.  Then he would meet me at the end of the day and we would walk home together.  

It has been great to be surrounded by so many supportive people.  Having said that, there have been countless challenges and changes.  Many people have left our branch for one reason or another.  None of these departures were expected – meaning I never expected them nor were there rustlings or rumours. 

For me, this has been a year of emotions being close to the surface.  It takes very little for the tears to flow.  The loss of some of my workmates has been just that – another loss in my life.  It takes a period of time for me to process this loss and park it where it belongs.  I am not sure if I am doing a good job of that but I soldier onwards.

My body let me down health wise.  My headspace was nothing but fog.  My thyroid was out of whack, my blood sugar was high and I had bronchitis.  I was so tired and without fail the headaches emerged every day.  Marry my physical self with the emotional self and I was a mess.  Would it ever end?  And Christmas is coming…

It was not until the week of December 12 did I feel I was getting some energy back.

Christmas has been another challenge for me.  In all honesty there were times when I just wanted to drop the F bomb and say F $%&K Christmas but in my heart of hearts and my little Ron voice told me this was wrong.  What to do did not come easy.  I struggled with reliving Thanksgiving, which was very difficult for me, and finding a compromise so the kids did not feel like I just gave up.  I also did not want to ignore Christmas as it was Ron’s favourite time of year.  Thinking Christmas, listening to Christmas and seeing Christmas pop up around Victoria and the office was paralyzing me.  Christmas was coming whether I liked it or not.

What's In A Box?

Did I ever tell you that whenever Ron and I did anything a story always spawned from the event?  While Ron is no longer in this world, this trend has not ended. 

When Ron and I were at Yuquot, we met a master carver, Sanford Williams.  Ron had suggested we purchase a bentwood box.  I suggested a bowl as it would be more useful on the boat.  The bowl idea won.  Ron picked the hummingbird to be carved.  This bowl was our last anniversary gift to each other.  Needless to say, I cherish the bowl. 

The idea of a bentwood box never left my mind.  When Ron passed away I knew he was to be cremated.  It was a natural progression for me to find a box for his ashes.  Meghan and Kirsten helped me on my quest by searching the internet.  The perfect box was discovered in Chemainus.  Passing through Chemainus, I telephoned (pulled over) from the car.  The box was for sale by online purchase.  I did not know this prior but did manage to convince the lady to let us into her home to actually see the box.  It was what I was looking for.  The transaction was completed then and there.

In my humble opinion the box was stunning with its wolf and whale carvings.  It was the perfect vessel for Ron’s ashes.  Ron and the box were on display at his celebration and soon thereafter our way to Hawaii. 

Ron and the box accompanied me inside the aircraft on the way to Hawaii.  Both were on display at the Hawaii condo.   The box and ashes accompanied us for Ron’s last sail off the coast of Honolulu.  It was a stunning sunset sail; warm and windy.  This was Ron’s last stop.  We spread his ashes, as he wished, somewhere warm.

The box, on the way home, for some fickle reason (size matters one way but not the other) was not allowed inside the cabin with me.  I had to repack and felt that I cushioned and padded outside the box enough to protect it.  I had not.  To my great disappointment the box was broken.  Damaged to the point that if repaired it would never be a true bentwood box. 

I had purchased it on Mastercard so knew that insurance would cover it.  This spawned a dilemma – to have the box replaced with a new and true bentwood box or have the original repaired.  I toyed with the decision and the consequences or rewards of my choices.  I procrastinated, I dawdled and I deferred.  It did not seem right to replace the box.  On the other hand, the value of this First Nations art piece had plummeted.  I still could make a decision, so I didn’t.

I cannot tell you why or how I came to my brainwave but let me say that I do believe that I was led down the path to my choice.  I have a friend neighbor who has had his own unique relationship with Ron which had transitioned to something more profound than either would have thought.  Enough said.  My neighbor is both private and modest and I have the highest respect for him and his family.

It came to me to ask him to fix the box.  My epiphany felt so right.  It was a forehead slapper – why didn’t I think of this before.  I asked the favour.  He took the box. The box was repaired with great respect and care as he is a fine craftsman.  I was moved to tears by this act of kindness for something that meant more to me than even I knew.  I am grateful.

For my friend and neighbor it was a personal journey repairing this box.  We shared a few words about Ron and then he said “You know, that box is not empty.” I felt the shivers cover every inch my body.

October

This month, as with past months, has had its challenges.  To catch you up, Ron and I own a house in Courtenay.  This was the year that we were going to take on the refresh challenge.   This is also the house where, for several years, I raised Stewart and Meghan.  It is the house I lived in when Ron and I started dating.  It is the house Ron and I refreshed 13 years ago.  You get the picture… this house is teeming with memories

To state the obvious, I bit off more than I could chew in the time constraints I placed on the project… again you get the picture.

The tenants were asked to vacate for the renovations.  Renovations include but are not limited to: new floors, new countertops, new heaters, new doors, new faucets, fresh paint and yard work.

To say that I have missed Ron is and understatement to the n^th degree.  The first few days were agonizing and miserable.  I felt I was tearing our past out of the house.  Making decisions caused immense distress.  You see, Ron and I would have been discussing all aspects of this project.  Now it was on me.  When others made comments  or suggestions I became extremely defensive.  My defensiveness brought on tears and sadness.  This in turn caused me to shut down.  I became very selective about the topics I would raise.  This, in turn, caused me to be confident in my decisions.  I learned to be positive, committed, and comfortable.  As I write, the project proceeds on schedule.

Thanksgiving was particularly difficult for me.  Of three invites I was emotionally able to fulfill one.  My sister invited me for a Saturday evening dinner.  My initial reaction was to decline.  My inside voice told me I should go – go I did.  I went late, maybe on purpose.  I remember sitting at the table and felt like I was removed from the party of eight.  I could see their mouths moving; I could hear voices but not comprehending the conversation.  I sat and ate in silence.  I got the sense that my behavior made some uncomfortable.  I did not care.  Although I have lots to be thankful for however, I was not feeling thankful.  Between courses I became aware of the conversation – death, funerals, and preparation for death.  I just wanted it to stop.  I wanted to scream.  Instead I stood and proceeded to the door.  As I put on my shoes, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I told my sister I could not handle the conversation.  I left.

Sunday night I was invited to my son’s house.  This was much more comfortable for me – a small number of family.  The little ones made me laugh with their many means of entertainment; dancing, stories, pictures and just being four and six.  I have said it before and I will say it again – it is the kids who bring snippets of joy to my heart.  I am thankful for healthy kids and healthy grand daughters. 

Thanksgiving Day.  On this morning you could find me in Leanne and Bill’s gourmet kitchen.  I baked a pumpkin cheesecake and stuffed a pumpkin with savoury bread stuffing to accompany the barbequed turkey.  Gracie and I also made Halloween Rice Crispie Squares for the visiting kids.  Bill and Leanne set about with their chores preparing for company to arrive at one PM.  As time grew near, I became very anxious.  By eleven thirty I herded Winston into the Volvo and we left.  I could not bear what was to come:  more people and giving thanks.  Once away from the house I texted Leanne with apologies and to let her know I would not be back until much later.  She understood.  I then called Meghan and sobbed into the phone that I just could not ‘do it’.  Meg joined me for the afternoon.  I was appreciative for her company. 

The very next day, I felt a profound and physical sense of relief that Thanksgiving was over.  It was the proverbial weight lifted off my shoulders.  Next is Christmas.

I have decided, based on Thanksgiving, that I will take Winston to Tofino for Christmas.  I have made reservations for a beachfront cabin.  My counselor asked if isolating myself will make it easier.  Quite confidently I stated no.  No, it will not be easier.  I have chosen an environment where I am completely comfortable to work through my heartache and pain, my anguish and sorrow.  I have talked to the kids and they understand.  I will also have Christmas with the kids prior to Christmas. 

Mid October I was feeling the best I have felt in months; optimistic, confident and energized.  How timely as November 1 was my return to work date.   I was looking forward to taking my seat again but this time I felt much stronger mentally, physically and emotionally.  I was looking forward to returning to a very supportive team of colleagues.  One unexpected communication changed my outlook.  I learned, just a few days after Thanksgiving, that a major change had taken place within my team; my comfort, my support. 

As sad and shocked as I was with the news of the change in the office, I knew that I had to and could work past the negative effects.  I coached myself to embrace the change and return to work with a positive approach.   It worked.  I noticed a marked difference between returning last May (with futile results) and returning November 1.  I could feel it in my bones.  Unlike in May, this time I was more focused, I was interested in the tasks and conversations and, I genuinely participated.  This is good!   

This past weekend was busy with house renovation work and my dad’s 80^th birthday.  We, my sisters and I, hosted an open house for the “Mayor of Royston”.  Dad had a very good time reminiscing with his old cronies who dropped in to roast and toast the Mayor.