In memory of Tim ~ 1957-1999

On January 29, 1999, I flew into Chicago to attend a conference for work. Being from a relatively small city in eastern Canada, Chicago was a whole new experience for me. I was travelling with one colleague whom I was looking forward to sharing the trip with, and remember feeling like I had the world by the tail. I had been on a very successful weight loss journey since the previous August and had already lost almost 50 lbs. I felt like one of those Ally McBeal types - with my cute little outfits and ability to fit nicely into the plane seats and all. I had a great new assignment and exciting opportunities lay ahead of me. This was the first of many planned excursions with this new job.

We checked into our hotel, which was located on the "magnificent mile" in the downtown area. I can recall getting a kink in my neck and worrying that I was going to get pigeon poop in my mouth if I didn't stop staring upward, gawking with my mouth hanging open!

I moved through the conference sessions, listening, taking notes, meeting people from all around the USA and enjoying my odd status as an "international visitor", being all the way from Canada and all, you know. I was having a great time. On January 30th, I made arrangements with some new friends from California to join them at a taping of the Oprah Winfrey show - we were hoping to attend a show on the Monday or Tuesday of the conference. Then I met up with other new friends who actually lived in Chicago for supper. We went to a local bar in their neighbourhood where I watched my friend's son and daughter kid each other - dancing and hanging out in that very cool brother and sister way. I remember telling them how they reminded me of a time when my brother, Tim, lived with me and we used to hang out together like that - and how lucky they were to have such a great friendship with each other. They laughed and shrugged it off ... the way you do when you're with your sibling.

And then on January 31st, I watched as those in attendance at the conference successfully petitioned the organizers to cancel the afternoon sessions so that they could gather in various rooms and the hotel bar for a Superbowl party. My colleague and I joined our new friends in the bar, experiencing Bud Girls and giveaways, but most importantly, the Superbowl commercials!!!

I went back to my room, feeling very cosmopolitan and grown up. Tucked my prizes and purse away, and crawled into bed. I woke up very early the next morning to a ringing phone. The phone call that would change my life forever.

It was my secretary at work - an incredible woman who had become a good friend. All she said was "you have to call your parents. If you want, call me back after you speak to them".

I pulled my cell phone out of my purse to make the call home, and saw that I had missed 28 calls the night before. The noise in the bar had been such that I hadn't heard the phone ring once.

I knew something was very very wrong. I called my parents' number, and when my father heard my voice, he started to cry. My mother picked up the other line and started to cry as well.

They managed to get out the words "oh Sandy...it's about Tim".

And I knew.

My only brother was dead. He had committed suicide.

His wife and daughter had been away, visiting her family for the weekend. They came home on Sunday. Their daughter raced into the house and up the stairs - excited to see her dad again. She was the one who found him, lying in his bed, dead. The autopsy revealed that he had most likely died on Saturday. I can't even begin to imagine the horror that little 8 year old girl went through - finding her father like that.

I have always avoided describing how he killed himself. The recent media coverage of the mother who assisted her son to commit suicide, however, has brought the horror of Tim's chosen method back to me. He used the same method with which this young man chose to end his life.

I have been a certified teacher of suicide intervention since 1986. I had long ago dealt with my own feelings about the right of choice, and had helped countless others recognize that their feelings about suicide directly impacted their ability to be effective as someone who would intervene with a suicidal person. All the skill in the world couldn't help me to intervene with my own brother.

For a long time, I raged against this man and his book. We found a copy of the book in my brother's home after his death. It had been opened to the page that described his chosen method so often that, when it was found, the crack in the spine made the book open naturally to that page.

I don't know what the purpose of writing about this today is ... except that Monday, January 30th is the 7th anniversary of the date that Tim chose to kill himself. The ongoing debates about assisted suicide and the right to choose have been keeping his method of death first and foremost in my mind.

I've watched my parents age dramatically in the last seven years, most of it in the first two years after his death. I've watched my niece that found him struggle with her life and her emotions. I've watched his other daughter, who lived with HB and I for a year, just recently begin to say her dad's name again and be able to look at pictures of him.

I hate that Tim never got to meet my incredible husband. I'm pissed off and angry at my big brother that he chose to leave my world before I was ready for him to be gone. I'm angry with myself at how busy I've allowed myself to become .... too busy to see my aging parents and my one remaining sister on any kind of regular basis ... knowing that the day is coming very soon when one of us will once again be racked with guilt and regret that we didn't make that one hour trip to spend time with each other. I've been having regular thoughts about death again - feeling that very soon we will experience another death in our family.

HB's brother, who is an active alcoholic and drug addict, but who is also receiving dialysis three times a week, was admitted to ICU this week. This is the brother that HB used to hang out and use with when he was practicing. For many reasons, HB has had to choose to put distance and space between them. HB's been clean and sober for quite a few years now, and is grappling with what he is meant to do in this situation. He has forgiven his brother in his heart, and has accepted responsibility for his actions in the situation ... but he's never had a conversation with his brother, who is still actively using, about all of it.

I'm just feeling overwhelmed today. I miss my brother. I love you Tim.

Heart and Soul

Thanks for all the confirmation to my last post. I managed to survive this last period - both the period of time and the period itself. Actually I did more than just survive. I actually accomplished some stuff.

First, I had dinner with a classmate whom I had not seen for 22 years. How is it possible that I have college classmates from 22 years ago? I'm far too young for that! Actually we do laugh about it as I was the pup of the class. I turned 20 that year, and almost had a meltdown because I no longer had "teen" in my age.

This guy is amazing. He and his partner were the first gay men in their province to legally adopt a child. I read about the strength of the couples who are choosing adoption all the time, but hadn't completely thought through what the ramifications for a family such as his would be in adoption. And they didn't make it easy - they have created a bi-racial, same sex parent family! I left that dinner feeling in awe of what my former classmate is accomplishing with his life. He is a trailblazer, and his children are lucky to have him as their dad.

Secondly, I have now successfully completed my second lessons in the master's program. I've accomplished all the readings and managed to get all my assignments in on time. I've had a few flutters of confidence. I had to have HB sit and read my first assignment before I hit send. He's so amazingly supportive. Made no matter to him that he had no clue about the subject matter and I restricted his commenting to my grasp of the subject matter.

I spent yesterday morning with Frodo and Mini-Me while HB was at a meeting. These Saturday mornings are turning into our time together, and we're getting to redefine our relationship in a majorly cool way. Frodo had a hockey game so I got to spend some time with their mother as well ... not my favourite thing but it actually turned out alright. I stroked her motherhood ego for a bit, but couldn't help but do a teensy bit of internal gloating when Mini-Me stayed seated beside me instead of her for the whole game.

Last night I reconnected with some girlfriends for dinner. There was a time when we would see each other on almost a daily basis but have been totally neglectful of those friendships in the last year or so. We corrected that last night. We rented hotel rooms, went to dinner theatre together and then went back to the hotel for drinks and chats. Long overdue.

I'm taking care of my heart and my soul this week. It feels great. And I may actually have a life that doesn't necessarily rely on being a biological mother. Who would have thought it?

Tomorrow is election day here in Canada. I'm terrified that we are going to swing to the right tomorrow and lose all the hard won battles about freedoms that have been won in this country. I have to cast my vote very first thing in the morning before I hit the road for the rest of the week again. There's too much at stake tomorrow. Way too much. So if you're Canadian, get out and exercise your right tomorrow as well.

Oh...and send some good thoughts to Julianna this week. She is mustering the courage of a lion on Monday and she needs the lionesses gathered round her.

The Lioness Needs Courage

Ollie voiced what I'm sometimes afraid to say out loud. Go ahead and read it. I'll wait.

Ok, so it wasn't that I'm afraid to talk about Robert Plant being a geek out loud. I said that many times.

But that last paragraph? The one where she asks whether she really wants to be a mother anymore? Yep. There it is.

My period is starting today. And I feel a bit relieved. I got a sick feeling in my stomach just even typing those words. It's like I'm being totally disloyal to all my infertile sisters. In fact, to all women in the world. It's like by saying that out loud I'm accepting that it's never going to happen for me.

In 38 days, I will be 43 years of age. I am quite set in my ways. I like my house to be kept in an ordered fashion. I like to go out for dinner when I want to, and to a restaurant of my choosing - not just one that has high chairs. I like to have big dawgs that can drool all over me and romp through my house without worrying that they're creating an unsanitary environment. I like to be able to accept interesting assignments at work that can sometimes take me away for days and weeks at a time. I like to travel to Cuba and get a glorious tan while laying on the beach. I like to lay in bed on Saturdays sometimes and just read a book.

I am quite set in my ways. And I'm selfish. I'm not convinced I want to give up any of these things.

And yet I know I would in an instant if I found myself pregnant. I've already proven that to myself during those times that I have been pregnant. I've just never had to actually live out my brave words of conviction since I've never managed to bring any of those babies, you know, home from the hospital with me.

It's such an uncomfortable place to be - half of me still hoping, wishing and praying for a baby. The other half of me hoping, wishing and praying that I'm moving on.

____________________________________________________________________

And by the way .... I hear that it is (or maybe even was) delurking week. I see all kinds of visitors in my stats, and wonder if you might take a moment to introduce yourself. I'm particularly interested in meeting my fellow Canadians - especially my visitors from right here in the province. This is not a beg for comments ... I'm a big believer that people comment when they feel moved to do so, and I, for one, didn't start this blog to get comments. I started it to maintain my sanity on this journey.

Edited to add: Wow! I just realized how rude that sounded "particularly interested in meeting my fellow Canadians" after reading Cricket's comment that she wasn't Canadian! I sure didn't mean to limit myself to only meeting the Canucks that may read here ... sorry about that! I swear. The Pamprin has gone to my head.

From monster to mom

I've been having the most amazing day. The. Most. Amazing.

HB has a commitment that takes him out of the house every Saturday morning for a few hours, and will continue to do so until the middle of March. We discussed it before he accepted, and decided that I would make myself available to be with Frodo and Mini-Me on those mornings, rather than leaving it up to HB and the kids' mother to handle. We've finally learned that if we involve her in these things, our lives become way too complicated.

Anyhow, my point is that this decision has been one of the best gifts I could have given to myself and the kids. We've been having time to spend together, and we're developing our own little relationship now ... which is kind of neat.

So today Frodo had an 11 a.m. hockey game. This means that they need to have a good breakfast, beds need to be made, showers taken, hockey geared packed, teeth brushed, and warm clothes put on ... all in time for us to be out of the house by about 10:15 at the latest. Shouldn't be too hard a chore except that we're all procrastinators, and inevitably we end up cramped for time at the end ... with the house exit being very hurried and frazzled. This morning, they both did everything after one request. And with no whining or fighting. We left the house at 10:10 a.m. ... a record!!!

The other thing that was going on was that the team was hosting a bottle drive right after the game. HB was going to meet us at the rink after his meeting to take Frodo to the bottle drive.

Mini Me decided that he was going to pass on the bottle drive and hang out with me at home. Now I suspect that his true motivation was a completely uninterrupted afternoon of solo time on the PSII, but hey, I take my strokes where I can get them - so hang out with me it was going to be!

We went for lunch with HB and Frodo, and then started to head home. Our plans got completely turned around, and instead of an afternoon at home, we ended up spending most of it in the car together, driving around delivering stuff to either HB, or meeting up with their mother to pick stuff up. He was fine with that - and consequently we ended up in a place where we were gabbing away with each other in the vehicle.

And somehow that gab turned to a conversation about the band Kiss. Don't even ask me how we got there...but get there we did. And here's where the day gets amazing.

I casually mentioned that "way back in the '70s when they were really popular, I went to a Kiss concert".

His eyes widened. His mouth dropped open. And then he said, "can I use your cell phone?".

He called his best friend, Joey. And then I heard:

"Joey? Yeah. It's Mini-Me. Guess what? My step-MOM (wow!!!) says that Kiss used to be really popular waaaaaaaaaaaay back in the 70s. And guess what else? SHE SAW THEM IN CONCERT! How cool is she???"

I almost had to pull the car over. From stepmonster to stepmom with a 'cool' thrown in ... all in 30 seconds.

Yeah. They're worth it.

Trying to focus...

I'm back at work today after having 14 straight days where I wasn't involved with anything even remotely work related. Consequently, I've had a hard time refocusing today. I've not accomplished much worth mentioning or worth my paycheque, to be honest. Instead, I've been sitting here in my little cube, bouncing random thoughts and realizations around in my head.

My course materials arrived today. I start both classes on Monday. This program is conducted mostly on-line, with what they call "intensives" at the end of each semester. The intensives are two and a half days long. The course material is all reviewed and then the final exam or assignment carried out. I spent a good chunk of the day reviewing the materials and getting both excited and freaked out. The one course excites me and looks like it's filled with material I'm comfortable with ... and even have some expertise in. The other course completely freaks me out. It's all about financial administration and accountability.....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.......but a necessary evil. Better to get it out of the way now I guess. I'm reserving the economics course for a few semesters away.

I wonder if I will have the discipline to move through this program and actually complete it. I have a lot riding on this opportunity. But me and computers? I seem to have a form of ADD when it comes to being in front of the computer. I sit down with all good intentions to work, write, research, whatever. Then I think that perhaps I should just check a blog or two....or play just one game of Snood...or my current favourite...Bounce Out. The next thing I know it's after midnight and my work is still sitting undone.

This will not be an option any more. I really do need to get disciplined about it. But I have always worked best under pressure. I can pull off the most amazing pieces of work in one night. I just don't understand why I put that kind of pressure on myself.

Driving to work this morning, I learned of this story. I wanted to throw up. Or cry. The radio announcer, who is usually pretty upbeat, went on about all the people in the world living with infertility, or looking to adopt, and how these animals were allowed to have children. True words...sadly.

I've been moving through the month not really thinking about conceiving or trying, or temping, or anything. It was just over a year ago that I started clomid, and had a positive test on the 10th of January. I presented the test to HB as his 40th birthday gift. He was cautiously delighted, and obviously, I still owe him a present for his 40th birthday. Double damn.

I actually had to look at my blank chart this month to see where I was in my cycle. I guess that's a good thing, right?