Monday, December 17, 2001
Peter L. from work offered to take me along to the local Wal-Mart during lunch-time today. I still needed to get a tool-related gift for Erika as well as Bill W., so I joined him.
I found what I think will be a good tool-based gift for Erika, plus a silly stocking-stuffer for her as well. I won’t tell what they are here, because she reads this Web site occasionally, and I don’t want to give it away. ;-) But just as I was walking back along the aisles I spotted something I’ve been seriously thinking about buying for a while: a Meade ETX-60AT computerized telescope. This is my Xmas present to myself. ;-)
When we were at Deloro this past weekend Vanessa expressed interest in seeing the stars with me, and I dutifully took her out prior to her bedtime and pointed out some constellations and a couple of planets I could recognize. When the skies are clear, that place is an astronomer’s dream -- can’t wait to take the new scope up to Deloro to do some serious stargazing.
Still need to track down a couple of copies of MST3K: Manos Hand of Fate – one for myself, one for Bill. Okay, so I guess it'll be a stock-stuffer for me since I've already got a present for myself. ;-) (And if you know the film at all, make a point of clicking on the above link, as it leads to a very good article where a couple of people who were in on the movie "fess up" about its origins. Well worth the time to read).
We woke to a brilliantly snowy morning in Deloro. Snow hung from the trees like a Currier and Ives Xmas print. The river slowly carried small bits of snow downstream, and impossibly thin shelves of ice fringed its bank. We all happily settled down for breakfast, and soon after Vanessa took me out for a trudge through a snow-covered trail that flanked the river. We both had a blast.
I had a final grudge-match with Jennifer of Scrabble. We played a nine-tablet variant which I won, and a final regular seven-tablet game which I conceded to Jennifer, because I had to help pack the truck to head home.
Much of the car ride back was quiet – Vanessa drifted off to sleep, as did Annie for a while. Unfortunately, the last half-hour saw a car-weary Annie bawling her eyes out, and was inconsolable until we got home and Mommy gave her a comforting breast to feed upon.
I unloaded the truck, and I offered to buy any take-out dinner Erika wanted. So we ate Thai that evening.
We also found poor little Naomi. She was sitting by her food bowl patiently, as she always does. But now she is just skin and bones, covered with scabs from flea bites and obviously a bit unsteady on her feet. Erika was practically in tears as she gave her much-loved, loyal old pussy-cat her food, which Naomi meekly ate only the smallest portion of. She had spoken to her sister about Naomi’s state, and Jennifer advised her that Naomi should probably be put down to avoid further suffering. After I had put Vanessa to bed for the night, we talked about Naomi and what to do as she lay curled up and purring on Erika’s lap. I offered to take Naomi to the vet to be put down anytime Erika wanted, since Erika admitted she would most likely be a mess if she did it herself. I love the old girl myself, but Naomi has always really been Erika’s cat, not mine, so it is not as hard for me to do the job. This was when Erika said “if it’s not one thing, it’s another” referring to my Mother’s condition, Mary’s death, and now this. That evening I had to console a teary Erika in bed.
It’s been a rough season.
Saturday: To Deloro
That morning we had vowed to go hunting for Montreal bagels. Erika hadn't really had a chance to explore yet, (I had briefly gone out yesterday afternoon with Bryce and Jenny) so I gave her my bank card and charged her with a mission binging back a gross of bagels.
Turns out that Jenny took Erika on a mini-shopping spree to Ahkavan, where we had gone yesterday in quest of za'atar spice for Jenny. Spice shopping with Jenny is a dangerous thing. ;-) Erika ended up bring back several back worth of very funky-looking groceries. They also went to D.A.D.S. Bagels a block away from Marché Akhavan and bought a gross of bagels, upon which we feasted when we got back to "the cube". I ostensibly looked after baby while they were out, but she slept the whole time, so I read an interesting review of John Ralston Saul's new book in the Montreal Gazette, as well as a fascinating article about Django Reinhart and Jazz in Nazi-occupied Paris.
We dined upon bagels, smoked salmon and cream cheese. Yum! The conversation turned to family history, and Bryce mentioned that he was thinking about getting a slide scanner in order to archive his mother's large collection slide photos. Since I want to do the same thing with my late-Father's collection of slides, we agreed to trade info on hardware, and maybe to share in the costs of getting a decent scanner. I asked Aggie about her family history. Since she hails from Singapore, I imagined that she would have an extensive family history going back into China, which is after all a place long known for ancestor worship. I was quickly disabused of this notion by Aggie, whose own Grandfather had declared that they have no ancestors in China -- none that they'd want to get into contact with anyways. Apparently the fear is that once a long-lost cousin is located, what typically happens is that they ask for handouts from their "rich" emigrant cousins. A good reason not to go searching for one's roots.
Soon after breakfast we packed up and left. Much of the conversation on the road back to Jenny's place revolved around how unsatisfying Mary's service was.
We were greeted by geese, ducks, the children and Hugh upon reaching Jenny's place in Lansdowne. I unloaded all of her many food purchases in her kitchen, had a quick bowl of soup and we were off again.
We took the scenic route to Deloro instead of the 401. Glad we did. It was truly a winter wonderland, with snow everywhere (except on the roads, which was fine by us). Erika first spotted a magical effect of a low, thin fog hovering a few feet above the fields of snow which caught the final rays of a setting sun, and looked positively ghostly.
We got to Deloro just at 5pm. Vanessa was outside with David, and she came running up to us in the truck as soon as we had stopped. A stepped out and grabbed her and gave her a big hug, shortly thereafter handing her over to her Mom for the same treatment. Erika took the kids in and I unloaded the truck.
Along with Jean and David were David B. and Jennifer as well as her motley collection of dogs. The gross of bagels I brought in proved to be a big hit with everybody, and were part of every meal we had the rest of our time there.
During dinner, we told David about what we thought had been a near-encounter with an oncoming train on the way up at a level crossing. Her re-assured us that the train was probably much further and much slower than it appeared, though it was almost definitely closer than the ¼ mile we thought was standard for this. He then regaled us with some rather grisly stories he knew about people getting hit by trains. His best story was about a call he had gotten from another train about a body found beside the tracks. The train which had spotted it had put un its brakes, but it stopped a full mile or so from the scene (one lesson learned: don’t ever play chicken with a train – you’ll lose). So David’s train was coming on the other tracks heading towards it, and he was asked to stop and investigate, which is standard procedure under the circumstances. So he stops and finds a twisted body lying beside the tracks. He was alive, and froth was gurgling from his mouth. Poor bastard thinks David. Then, investigating further, he smells alcohol and finds a bicycle lying nearby, and a gap in the woods. Turns out the guy had not been hit at all but was just ferociously drunk and fell asleep beside the tracks. David got some water from the train, splashed it on the guy’s face and bodily carried the drunk away from the track. This was a relatively amusing story, though he has others that are not so amusing...
The rest of the evening was spent playing Scrabble with Jennifer and David B. Jennifer won.
Erika and I settled down to sleep in the living room, and I only occasionally got woken up by a cat or dog sniffing to see how awake I was.
Friday: Mary's Service
We arrived at Bryce and Aggie's place with an hour and a half to spare prior to the service. Bryce was in a full suit -- quite possibly the first time I've seen him so attired since my wedding -- and Aggie wore a very becoming dark green dress. We all got settled in and one by one got changed for the service.
We arrived at Loyola Chapel in good time for the service. We each got name tags upon entering, and we found an empty pew at the front, facing inward to the center of the church, Marie's brother Joe was there as well as Patrice, who had made it over from Cote d'Ivory. A handsome man -- Mary had chosen well -- though understably sad-looking and as Jenny said later, shell-shocked. Imagine hearing that your new bride had died in a land foreign to you, and then you visit the country not as a husband but as a widower. I can't begin to think of what must have been running through his mind.
As for the service, two words sum it up: lugubrious and unsatisfying. As the pipe organ droned out its dirge and people bowed their heads in silence, I couldn't help but think at how un-Mary the whole service was.
About a hundred or so people turned up at the chapel to send Mary off. It was an ecumenical service done by a pastor who seemed distinctly uneasy at times -- she tried her best but she never knew Mary, and a lot of the service rang hollow. While the official eulogies were okay, there was only one of the speakers -- who said her piece after the official speakers were over, and most of the attendees were serving themselves refreshments -- stating that Mary had made a difference to her life, that Mary knew how to live her life, and that she'll be missed. Erika and I thanked her for having said much of what we felt.
One of the highlights of the service was when Patrice was offered Annie to hold, and he held her close and smiled at her tenderly. All I could think of though was: "Mary would have loved to have seen this".
Both Jenny and Erika managed to write something in a book of remembrance for Mary. I managed to talk to a few of the other attendees, and gained some insight into some of the many facets of Mary's life: teacher, academic, music lover, giving aid to the Cuban community. helping the deaf and more that I undoubtedly knew nothing about.
Soon after we left, Jenny gingerly limped to the truck, and we found we got a $42 parking ticket. Thank you Montreal.
That evening I think we had a more fitting tribute to Mary when we ordered a bottle of wine and had a toast to her memory at a local restaurant.
The first snowfall of the year started that evening. I couldn’t help think of it as a fitting and appropriate closure for the events of the day.
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