The Difference?

Random thought…
Let’s imagine that I start making moonshine in my garage. Now of course there are laws in place and it is against federal law to distill hard alcohol (even for personal consumption) without a license. This prohibits me from legally making moonshine, but it really isn’t that difficult to do. All of the ingredients are readily accessible, it just takes some inexpensive equipment and a little know how and boom, the moonshine is flowing. I’m not allowed to legally sell it either obviously, but I soon discover that there are people who love my moonshine. In fact the demand is higher than I anticipated so I decide to quietly start selling my precious blend for cash. Hey, I’m just giving the people what they want, and if I make a few bucks in the process I’m helping the economy! Soon things are going great and my secret business is booming. My customers all know to keep quiet and we can continue our relationship forever. They all quickly grow to trust my discretion and expertise. One day I decide my moonshine would taste better with a little cyanide in it. My clients still trust me of course so they continue to drink my product. Suddenly my customers are turning up dead by the hundreds, or even thousands. In fact, cyanide laced moonshine quickly becomes the number one cause of death in males aged 19 – 39. I don’t care because I’m making a fortune, so I continue producing and selling my mixture.
While I am careful, this is a risky business and one day I slip up; the police finally catch me. I am caught red handed with a bag full of cash and a trunk load of cyanide poisoned moonshine. Upon my arrest I would expect to have some serious mental health assessments done. What kind of a madman would purposely poison his clients, or anyone for that matter? Assuming I was found mentally fit to stand trial I would then be stuffed in a jail cell for my remaining years. I would most likely make international news in fact. Every news department in the world would carry the story of the mad Canadian who was poisoning people with cyanide.

Now replace the words “cyanide laced moonshine” with “fentanyl laced drugs” in this tale and try to figure out why we dont lock up drug dealers and throw away the key?

Grow Long and Prosper

Everyone I know enjoys that quiet time at the end of the day when you get to relax. You know the time – a long work day is done, dinner is done, chores are done and you get to curl up in bed with your spouse and watch a movie or your favourite series on TV. So relaxing! I was enjoying just such an evening when one tiny error changed my life. You see, I forgot to shut the closet light off. Normally not a big deal, except – the closet light caught my face just right and my charming wife noticed that I had a long eyebrow hair that was a little rogue. She sat bolt upright and said she had tweezers handy and would (I quote) “just pop it out quick”. In hindsight I now realize that the look on her face upon spotting this renegade hair was the same look of excitement a wolf gets when it spots a defenseless bunny casually eating a dandelion – and, like the bunny, I was oblivious to the horror about to befall me.  Naively I thought “sure why not” after all she plucks them on herself all of the time and I’ve seen her do it without even flinching. At this point I really believed that she was being helpful. It turns out that she was actually plotting a form of medieval torture – and she had the audacity to look me straight in the eye with a smile when she said I would hardly feel it.
I laid back and closed my eyes while she leaned in with her dainty little tweezers and grabbed a hold of this hair that somehow had pissed her off. She gave a quick little trial tug and I started to have doubts: not only did the hair not come out, but it was far from “hardly noticeable”. In fact it kinda hurt, but I wasn’t going to let her know. I cracked open one eye slightly to peek and watched in growing concern as she pushed her sleeves up and leaned in again, now wielding the tweezers with a white knuckle grip and a crazed look of evil glee in her eye – I began to worry more.
She took hold of this sad, innocent hair again and said “ok, on three – one, two…” and yanked! On two!! I opened my mouth to tell her that she cheated but before I could speak the burn set in. Now, when I say “burn” what I mean is it kind of felt like she had hit me in the face with a shovel. Since my mouth was already open to call her out on her cheating, there was nothing to get in the way of the scream that followed. While the neighbors were undoubtedly locking their doors and preparing to call 911 to report the bloodcurdling cry, I panicked and clamped my hand over my eye, assumedly to stem the flow of blood. I quickly looked to see if she had ripped my entire brow off of my face or only half of it – but no, the tweezers were clean. Expecting to see blood sprayed across her face I glanced at her next, her lip curled back maniacally shouting “I got it!” with a purely evil Dr Frankenstein expression. At least I think she said “I got it” – she may have said “It’s Alive!!” I honestly expected to hear lightning and thunder outside of the laboratory…err, house.
It is at this time I realized that the particular hair she was so angry with must have been very long indeed as it obviously had its root firmly implanted in my backside. That’s right, I am 100% convinced that she had just pulled a hair from my ass out through my face. That is the only possible explanation for the depth that I can feel this pain.

The tears were still streaming down my face and the full shock was just setting in when I think she said that she had spotted another one. I’m not sure; I didn’t stick around to hear the rest of her sentence.

If anyone needs me, I have currently locked myself in the closet until she falls asleep. If anyone knows a good therapist please give them my number.

Conspiracy 101 – use your tin wisely

Lately the subject of “tinfoil hats” has come to my attention a few times so I feel it is necessary to help dispell some inaccuracies that are common around their construction. Whether it’s 5G networks, mind control rays, chemtrails, space lasers or any of a number of other conspiracies against you (the list is endless really), you may find yourself wondering how to make a proper tinfoil hat. On the surface it seems easy, you grab some good old Reynolds food wrap and shape it as you wish over your somewhat vacuous noggin. But hold on, it’s not that simple! First off, after the Second World War, tinfoil was supersceded by the cheaper “aluminum foil”. If you’ve been making your tinfoil hats out of food wrap over the last 75 years or so you have not been getting any tin protection. While aluminum does help with some things like chemtrail fallout, it does nothing for 5G waves. You need to know your material properties! Pure tin sheeting is expensive, but really can you put a price on saving yourself from brain eradication?
I prefer a multi-use type metallic hat just in case there are conspiracies out there that we don’t know about yet. Copper, for example, is the most conductive non-precious metal you can buy – 65% more conductive than aluminum! – and it comes in tape form, which makes it absolutely perfect for hat assembly.
What I like to do is start with an old beanie type hat as your base – it helps keep your hat from getting itchy on your scalp so you can wear it for more hours of the day. Since tin is expensive, you can limit its use to about a 10cm wide rectangle for the forehead area and two small squares, one for each temple area. Those 5G waves are targeting your frontal lobe so this is really all you need to protect with tin. (Note – take a look in the mirror and increase the size depending on how big your forehead is)
Once you have your tin cut out, go ahead and hot-glue gun those plates directly onto your beanie base. The glue will not affect the reflective qualities of the tin however I do strongly reccomend taking the beanie off of your head before you hit it with hot glue – but you do you.
Now you are ready for the first layer of aluminum foil. You want to be careful that you orient this layer correctly and ensure that you put the “shiny” side in. This will keep your thoughts from escaping to where others can read your mind. Keeping your thoughts secure in your head will honestly make the world a better place. I also like to leave a couple of foil flaps hanging down at the back to cover the neck area – an alloy mullet if you will. I’m not sure if it does anything but it looks super cool.
Up to this point we have been using all non-ferrous (non magnetic) materials. As an extra layer of protection you can wrap a coil of good old-fashioned galvanized fencing wire around the hat now. This layer doesn’t need to fully cover the surface area, just 6 or 8 wraps will sufficiently disrupt any magnetic impulse beams trying to penetrate your deepest and darkest secret thoughts. (Helpful hint – Leave a loop of free wire at the back that you can grab with plyers later to twist and tighten, so that no NWO agents can pull it off of your head)
To hold the wire wrap in place, cover it with the copper tape. Use as much of this as you like, remembering that copper is very conductive so if you are outside during a storm later you may just become a 5 or 6 foot tall lightning rod. Some risks cannot be overcome. In fact, as a functionality test you may wish to actively search out a thunderstorm to stand in. (Note – please video this test and send it to me. Please.)
The final step is what will give your hat its “traditional” tinfoil hat look. Cover the entire assembly with your second layer of aluminum foil. Be sure to put this layer of foil opposite to the first layer, with the “shiny” side out this time – to reflect the mind control rays away from you. Some people like to put the foil into a point on top. This conehead look is very aerodynamic and is also quite dapper – style is style and you want to look as good as you feel. You just never know when you will stumble across the love of your life. Of course, you won’t stumble across anyone while living in your basement so now that you have a stylish and functional protective hat, get out there and meet some people. Just be sure to update your Tinder profile pic.

Seasonal Pillows

I recently had a friend ask if we had “seasonal pillows” in our house. After a brief discussion, I learned that there are people who change out their cushions to match the colours or themes of the seasons and holidays throughout the year. This got me thinking about our humble couch and I realized that we have seasonal pillows as well:

During the summer our pillows are bright and warm, perhaps even starting to fade a little as the sunshine beats through the windows onto them. These cushions are a deep, natural green – and they are covered in dog hair.

During the dark and cold of winter we have pillows that are soft and cozy, lit up by a flicker of orange from the wood stove, the perfect place to sit with a cup of hot cocoa while the snow falls outside. These winter cushions are a warm, comforting green -and they are covered in dog hair.

At Thanksgiving the cushions transform into extra seating for family, with the smell of turkey and stuffing and ham and pie spread throughout the room. The Thanksgiving pillows are an inviting green colour, perfect for visiting with family – and they are covered in dog hair.

At Halloween they transform again, holding up skeletons and witches or perhaps stuffing a costume that needs filling out. They provide a place of rest for little ghosts and goblins to sit and sort candy, happily examining and organizing every piece of the evenings treasure haul. These Halloween cushions are a dark, haunting green – and they are covered in dog hair.

My favourite seasonal pillows however, are the Christmas pillows. These cushions are full of laughter and love as family and friends sit together and catch up on the year that has passed. They often smell of candles and fresh baking. They often smell of Ham and potatoes and butter and bread. They can be covered in crumpled up wrapping paper, or used as a seat on the floor on Christmas morning. They are lit up by the glow of lights from the tree, reds and blues and yellows and greens all twinkling across their surface. Beneath the shimmering lights of the season, these Christmas cushions are a rich, festive green – and they are covered in dog hair.

I love our seasonal pillows.

I See You

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In the darkness, I am watching. I see your face as it relaxes as you let out a soft snore, only to be pulled back in a grimace as the pain rears up again. I watch as you roll from side to side, asleep but not really, searching for a position where your body will be comfortable. I watch as you finally doze off again, lying on my arm this time, your breathing finally settled into a calm, easy rhythm. The tingles as my arm goes numb tells me that I should move but I dare not for fear of interrupting what few moments of peaceful slumber you do get. There it is, perhaps three or four minutes pass this time before your legs decide they need to move. Your brow furrows and your lips pull taught as you shift again, still convinced, or at least hopeful, that a new position will bring comfort. I check the clock; I know you were up long past me, waiting for the exhaustion to finally overpower the pain and allow sleep to come. The nights are not always this bad but when they are I can only lie here and try to not disrupt you. Its nights like this that make it impossible for you to have solid plans on any given day – I know tomorrow morning will not be a pleasant one for you. The pain coupled with the lack of sleep will combine to keep you away from doing many of the things you love. If I, or most people for that matter, have a bad night’s sleep we struggle through the day, complain and maybe joke about it a little before looking forward to the next night. You don’t look forward to the next night however. The quiet and the darkness only mean a lack of distraction so the pain may have the spotlight again; the pain demands it in fact. As I struggle with my own helplessness my thoughts are broken by you releasing another tortured moan. I look over again to see your lips pulled back with agony once more. Your forehead creased in frown as you again shift position, arms and legs stretching, searching for comfort and relief. Your face is so good at smiling all day, the rest of the world oblivious to your struggle, the constant pain, the inability to do many of the tasks that you used to. I often wonder how you do it, how you manage to fight this war daily. Your face has become a master at hiding it all. During this quiet time however, in the middle of the night while the world still sleeps, you let down your guard. The mask is off, there is no more disguise and the battle is real. I see you.

Hangin’ Around

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My wife and I are the proverbial “empty nesters” and that has brought about some exciting changes with how we utilize our living spaces. One of the biggest changes we have made is to transform our spare bedroom into a giant walk in closet, or “dressing room”. We opened up the wall to make it an adjoining part of our master bedroom and finally almost have enough room for all of our clothes. I say almost because we have a LOT of clothes. My life of haberdashery used to be so easy – clothes for going out in and clothes for not going out in. Done. However thanks to career changes, hobby upgrades and some mild lifestyle tweaks I now find myself in a state of awe every time I walk into the “dressing room”. There are clothes for work, clothes for yard work, clothes for going out for dinner, clothes for going out for a fancier dinner, clothes to go to the beach, clothes to snowshoe in, clothes to dirtbike in, clothes to streetbike in, clothes to snowmobile in, clothes to sleep in, clothes to work out in… you get the idea.

Armed with a slight understanding of our clothes situation, one can clearly see that there is a need for some organization and planning for storage. Bins, shelves, drawers, high racks, low racks; all have their place and they all make perfect sense, but there is one little detail that I never envisioned would become so important in my life: the simple clothes hanger.

Up to this point in my life I had put zero thought into the mighty clothes hanger. It had two purposes: Hold a shirt from falling on the floor and opening a car door after you lock your keys inside. That’s it; the industrious hanger was simple and effective for its intended uses. So perhaps you can imagine my surprise the first time I was told I was using the WRONG HANGER while helping my wife with laundry. I was shocked in fact. I turned and quickly looked for a glaring mistake – the shirt was clearly off of the floor so the hanger was doing its job to perfection – what could possibly be wrong? Little did I know that this was only lesson 1 of what was to become a bachelor’s degree in hangerology.

The error was a grave one; I had mistakenly hung up one of my t-shirts on a wooden hanger. I had obviously missed the memo wherein the declaration was stated that wooden hangers were for the sole purpose of hanging the fancy dress clothes; T-shirts were relegated to the white dollar store plastic hanging devices. Ok, fair enough, the wooden hangers are nicer so it makes sense for the “good” clothes to be on them. I corrected my mistake. Uh oh, not so fast – apparently I was still in breach of hanger regulations. Did you know that there was more than one size of plain white plastic hanger available? Neither did I but ignorance is not a defense of the law so I very quickly learned that the thicker and heavier white plastic hangers were reserved for use in the closet with the heavier jackets – they were not to be wasted on the menial task of t-shirt suspension.

I proceeded to finish hanging my t-shirts with the approved hangers and moved on to the new laundry. Things were about to get more interesting. I pulled out one of my nice work shirts and hung it to dry. I carefully did up the top button so that the collar would lay flat (read about the top button here) and hooked the hanger on the nice bar we had installed for the sole purpose of drying clothes before they were put away. I was quite proud of myself until I heard a voice behind me say “what exactly are you doing??” I froze. Holding back the panic I did a quick run through of what I knew: The shirt was hung nicely, button done up, nice clothes so nice wooden hanger – what was I missing?? With an eyeroll she informed me that WET clothes could absolutely not go on the wooden hangers to dry. I had failed, obviously missing another part of the lesson somewhere along the way. Wet clothes needed to be on plastic hangers. Dang I thought I had nailed that one. Back to the drawing board.

As she followed along redoing my hard work I began to wonder if I was actually helping at all, or just creating more work for her as we went. I was informed that I had incorrectly used the black plastic hangers throughout my side of the dressing room as well. To be fair, the black hanger is absolutely identical in every way to the white hanger with the exception of its colour. I did not realize that apartheid is alive and well in our dressing room as the black hangers are solely for use on her side of the closet. Supposedly it’s to differentiate her clothing from mine which makes perfect sense – I can clearly see how I might grab a pink “women who sled” t-shirt when I clearly wanted my black “AC/DC” t-shirt. I promised to be more careful.

There are many other hanger styles scattered throughout our new-found clothes storage space: Some have clips, some have multiple levels, some are straight, some have hooks for straps, some have swivels – it’s actually quite intense. I now realize that I do not have a hope of correctly memorizing all of these different hangers and their correct usages so I am resolved to sticking with what I know: I get the skinny white hangers for most of my things and a few wooden ones for some of my other things. Anything else is reserved for her specialty clothing department on the other side of the room. Unless it’s not.

Next week I may tackle lesson 2: Direction. I have just found out that shirts should go on a hanger facing a certain way so statistically I have just hung up 50% of my clothes incorrectly. At least they are off of the floor.

Big News – and a little history

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Warning – this post contains some background information that some of you may find… well, boring.

As long as I can remember, I have been putting words onto paper – yes actual paper, I am that old. I started writing stories as a child, using a manual typewriter that my parents had. I would make some notes on a paper and then type out a copy of a story. Afterwards it would require the use a pencil to make edits, move lines, scribble and rewrite in the margins and then retype a “good” copy – only to see that I missed a word and had to retype the entire page. Good times. No grammar check, no spell check, no copy and paste – just raw words and a dictionary. This pastime was always just a hobby for me, something to do in the evenings before Netflix and social media were a thing. Many times I suspect it was something I did to avoid homework too. The first time I recall my writing actually being “successful” was in high-school. The class was given an assignment to write a story, but there was a twist; every student had to use the same plot. Thirty students wrote the “same” story, in their own words; my story won and was published because of it. An obsession was born.

Faithful readers of The Involved Husband will know that I usually bake my stories with a spoonful of sarcasm, a dollop of half truths and a bucketful of hyperbole – sometimes with a dash of salt. My stories have made their way into newspapers, magazines and online publications. I have written news articles for local papers as well as product reviews, entertainment pieces and how-tos. I wrote and produced a small local magazine called Snow Country Magazine for a number of years, researching, writing, printing and delivering copies throughout the city. This blog itself, The Involved Husband, has been read in 47 countries around the globe, by tens of thousands of people. I have made people laugh, I have made people cry. I have had complete strangers tell me how a story has touched their lives. As my hobby has grown, so have my goals and aspirations for it. Honestly the feedback from both friends and strangers around the world is undoubtedly the most fulfilling part of this voyage. 

I won’t bore you further with this little stroll down memory lane. I have given you just a small glimpse into my literary history as a lead-in to this news: One of my stories has been published in the latest edition of the hugely popular Chicken Soup for the Soul series! 

Chicken Soup for the Soul: Laughter is the Best Medicine has a story I previously put together to (mostly) pick on my wife. Long time followers will know that a worldly portion of my dissertations center around my wife, albeit all in humour and loving fun. This story looks at an aspect of our then new-to-us exercise regiment, and it’s aptly titled “My Wife Tried to Kill Me”.  Please check it out, available in stores and online April 14 2020.

Thanks to my wife Carla and all of my other readers and supporters (and yes even the critics) – on to the next goal!

Social Distance

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So many things have been taken for granted for a long time. Maybe you should have visited that old friend. (But you were just so tired after work)
Maybe you should have taken your significant other to that movie. (But it was just so late to stay up)
Perhaps you should have been a little more diligent in saving for a rainy day (that rainy day is now btw).
Maybe you should have made that trip to visit your parents or grandparents. (Next summer, right?)
We have all created habits, both good and bad. We have also gotten very comfortable in thinking “theres always tomorrow”. We will get through this but I suspect we will all have new appreciation and understanding of what is actually important to us, our priorities realigned.
Maybe, just maybe, this is the reset that we didnt know we needed.

Angels among us – Flight C-GPUN

LearJet 35-058 C-GPUN 950111(1)

*special thanks to  Werner Fischdick and the Werner Fischdick Collection for permission to share this photo of C-GPUN*

As Christmas 1994 approached, my wife and I were frantically getting our lives ready for our first child, due to arrive in the second week of February. As soon-to-be new parents we were trying to juggle the excitement with fear and trepidation, unsure of this new adventure we were undertaking. Apparently all of the buzz around Christmas was too much for our unborn daughter to miss out on as in the early morning hours of December 23rd she decided that she was going to join in the festivities; Seven weeks premature and weighing a spritely 5 pounds, the world welcomed our daughter Kirsten Anderson. It was a scary time as her underdeveloped lungs meant that she was confined to an incubator, with bright lights to fight off jaundice and constant monitoring of her oxygen levels. She had to remain in the hospital, unable to come to home, and we spent every hour sitting or trying to sleep in a chair by her side. On Christmas Eve the nurses assured us that everything was fine and sent my wife and I home to spend Christmas with the rest of our family, leaving Kirsten behind in the hospital for the night. The drive home without her was, and remains, one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

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Hours turned into days and days into weeks as our daughter made steady progress and we began to anticipate being able to bring her home. Something went wrong however, and heading into the second week of January we were notified that her blood oxygen level had started dropping and had to be compensated with higher and higher levels in the incubator. Tests were run with no clear answers and as her oxygen intake continued to deteriorate the emergency decision was made to fly her down from our Prince George hospital in Northern BC to Vancouver Children’s hospital for further investigation into the cause. We were also advised that there was room on the flight for one of us to join and it was quickly decided that her mother would be the one to travel with her while I stayed behind for work. On the evening of January 10 1995 I watched the Air Ambulance Learjet 35 take off from PG and turn south for Vancouver with my baby and my wife on board. I have never felt so helpless.

During the short one hour flight from PG to Vancouver the medevac team received a call out of Masset, a village on Haida Gwaii, (then named the Queen Charlotte Islands) for another medical emergency transport. Haida Gwaii is north of Vancouver and it would save time and distance to redirect the flight and pick that patient up enroute instead of making a second trip. The flight crew discussed going straight to Masset and transporting both Kirsten and the other patient together but it was determined that with the three paramedics, two flight crew, Kirsten and her mother all on board it would be too crowded; It was decided to drop Kirsten and her mom off in Vancouver first.

After unloading in Vancouver, at 12:35am the Learjet Medevac plane and its crew left YVR and headed towards Masset for the second patient. That flight never arrived. At 1:46am on January 11, 1995 the aircraft and its flight crew of two along with three medical personnel were all lost into the ocean on descent into Masset.

As the investigation unfolded the Transportation Safety Board contacted us for any information we may be able to give. They took prints of the photos that Kirsten’s mom had snapped while on board to see if they could spot anything that would give clues into the accident. They also did interviews to see what was noticed regarding the flight staffs moods or anything else that may shed light on the incident. In the end the Transportation Safety Board determined that an incorrectly calibrated altimeter caused the plane to descend into the ocean before reaching the runway. The plane was eventually recovered in approximately 80 metres of water and all five crew on board were lost.

As a side note, our daughter’s oxygen levels began improving immediately upon arrival into Vancouver and she was released back to Prince George after only a couple of days of observation. The Doctors suspect that the change in altitude experienced on the flight was enough of a shock to her lungs to encourage them to start functioning properly. Now, 25 years later, she has finished Medical School and is working through her residency in a hospital on Vancouver Island.

To the family and friends of those lost in this tragedy, my heart goes out to you all. To the Doctors, Paramedics, Medical teams, Flight crews and personnel that work so hard to keep us healthy, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are all heroes to me.

In honour of: ITT Paramedic Andreas Goedickie, Paramedic Wendy Thompson, Dr. Jeffery Dolph and Pilots Daniel Jorgensen and Geir Zinke.

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⬇️⬇️ Coffee please! ⬇️⬇️

If you’re enjoying what you’re reading please consider helping me stay awake with a caffeinated beverage or two! ❤️

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Circle of Pain – A Journal

The following words are not mine. They are taken from the journal of a dear friend who has given permission to share. These heartbreaking journal entries were made as she traveled a road filled with  pain and love, supporting her sister through a battle with addiction. It is an unfiltered  glimpse into the hope and anguish that comes from watching a family member struggle. It is also a testament to a sisters love.

 Thank you for sharing Toni – TIH

 

I write this so people know I am a big sister. So they know love. So they know me, and they know Patti. That she was here, and that she was damaged by someone and that she got lost in trying to forget it. But most of all…. She was loved beyond words.

Waiting…

Jan, 2011

I held your hand today.

Your soft skin is so warm. Hot even. I wonder about the fight inside your body; the war that is waging. Will you win?

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Dad came to see you today, Kiddo.

We all take turns because we can only have two in your ICU room at a time. Margo and I waited outside for our turn. He came out crying. First time ever I can remember ever seeing him cry. It disturbed me; he’s not supposed to cry. He’s the strong one.
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I prayed for you today.

I prayed so hard it hurt. I prayed like I believed it could make a difference. I used to hope God existed when you were lost. I cried and told Him how scared I am. I wonder if He heard me and if He hears the prayers of all the others who have sent out prayers for you. There are so many prayers being sent on your behalf. You will be in awe when you see all the well wishes. You are loved.
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I brushed your hair today.

You have the most beautiful hair. Thick and healthy now, like Margo’s. I remember dying it for you a few weeks ago because your silly arm makes it so difficult to do by yourself. I remember feeling put out when you asked me to do it, but then we had so much fun the night we did it I forgot what a pain in the neck you can be. If I sit back and listen to my heart I can hear your laughter.
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I braided your hair today.

It was such a mess. Your nurse said when you came in she took out the clip that kept your red locks so pretty. I made it pretty for you again. I remember missing you and your friendship. I’m so glad we have you back. I had lost you for so many years to the vices that held you captive. When you came home it was like a rebirth. I will never forget the happiness it gave to all of us to have you at family get-togethers again. Normal. Twenty years is a long time to have a part of the ‘whole’ missing.

Get better.

I’m here.

Waiting.
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I painted your toenails today.

While you slept; one of your favourite colors. It’s a sparkly orange. As I painted I remembered days of our childhood when we laughed and giggled and talked about boys. When we painted our toes together. I lost a tear this time, no giggles. Margo came to help me, but she couldn’t do it. She just cried. I don’t blame her, this is tough. I know you would do this for me. Your nurse looked at me with a funny expression when I left and said she didn’t think her sister would have done that for her. I guess she and her sister aren’t very close.
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I left you laying there today.

Tubes and machines keeping you here, you’re breathing. You’re just sleeping right? I don’t want to leave you alone there with nobody holding your hand. I drive home after sitting with Margo for an hour or so. We don’t talk about you. I’m scared and lonely. Funny how a person never truly appreciates what’s in their lives until it threatens to leave.
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I texted you today.

I was looking for a phone number when I ran across your last text to me before you went in. You were so happy that Billy brought Trucker to see you at the hospital. I guess you left your bed to go see him didn’t you? You love that silly dog so much. It’s probably a little crazy texting your phone kiddo but it’s like a link because I can see what you wrote to me just a few short days ago. You were so thankful that I was able to take care of your dog until Billy got home.

If there’s one thing I can say about you being in my life again it’s how much I appreciate your open and loving nature. No matter what silliness you manage to text or call me about, you never fail to say “I love you sister!”. Or should I say “Seester”, I love that so much kiddo. I want to hear it again too. Please say it again.

Wake up.

I’m here.

Waiting.
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Text Message Saturday January 9, 2011 7:17 pm

“Hey Kiddo. It’s Saturday and I just left you in the hospital. I painted your nails and braided your hair. I made you pretty. I’m scared. I love you”

Text Message Saturday January 9, 2011 7:19 pm

“U look so frail hooked up to all those machines. I can’t tell you how hard this is. Dad cried when he came today. We are all so worried Patti.”

Text Message January 9, 2011 7:20 pm

“If you could see your family surrounding you today you would fight so hard to get better. So fight Sissy. Get better so you can wake up and laugh with me again.”

Text Message January 10, 2011 2:49 am

“I’m laying in bed at 2 am. I can’t sleep. I’m staring at the ceiling. All can say is I love you. Hurry up and get better k?”
I’m here.

Waiting.
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I was in to see you again today.

I hold your hand and talk like you’re really listening. Like your nurse isn’t hovering and watching all the machines like a hawk. She sits outside your room watching you through the glass. You should feel special, she’s yours and yours alone. You’re in good hands. I know I will find it hard to leave you again when it’s time to go back to my kids and greet their anxious faces with news. Today I want to be able to tell them, “Aunty Patti got a little better today. She responded to the medication.”

Love you so much little sister. Come on back.

I’m here.

Waiting.
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Evening January 10, 2011

I gave you a sponge bath today.

You slept so peacefully as I made you clean and I cried. I got good news. Doctor said you were doing better and that they will try to bring you out of the coma to test whether or not they can remove the tubes. I am happy. Soon we will be talking and teasing each other again. We are all waiting anxiously for tomorrow morning. Talk to you tomorrow kiddo. Sleep well. I love you.
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January 11, 2011

I got angry at you today.

After the harsh tears from seeing you still hooked up and frail. They tried to wake you up earlier only to have you crash and require sedation again. The ventilator remains. Your lungs are very bad and sensitive he said. Your nurse Rochelle hopes you’ll come out of this. “She is so lucky to have so much love”, she told me as I sat in your room and let tears flow. I held your hand and said ‘I love you’ after my fear and anger subsided. You turned your head towards me and you opened your eyes slightly. I know you heard me little sister. Fight. Fight this thing and come home.

Mom is on her way. I’ll pick her up at the airport at 10 and bring her to your side. Tonight before I come I’ll tuck in the kids and we will pray as a family that you get more fight in you and that God puts angels around you to help you win this. See you soon.
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January 12, 2011 12:49 am

I brought Mom to see you today.

She sobbed when she saw you. You don’t look like the same person. Your hands and arms are swollen and your color is just not right. She’s scared and she has every reason to be. They told her the truth tonight. It’s not good. I watched her as she wiped some hairs off of your forehead and talked gentle to you. “Come on kiddo you gotta come out of this…”
I can’t imagine her fear. No parent should ever outlive a child, 4 years old or 40. You will always be her child. Fight Patti. Just fight.
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January 13, 2011

No change today.

You need to wake up Patti.
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January 14, 2011

I smiled thinking about you today.

I didn’t come in, I’ve opened my new store now. I heard from Mom they weaned you off of two drugs completely. You are processing oxygen all on your own.

I remembered your sweet little face as a child and how fiery you were. Memories flooded me. You were always trouble. I’m wishing it goes as well in the next couple days as it did today. I’m loving you and holding you up in prayer. I miss your stupid texting about nothing and your ridiculous phone calls about what your silly dog just did… I miss you brat. Wake up!

I’m here.

Waiting.
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January 15, 2011

Hey! I talked with you today!

Welcome back! You swore at me and you were cranky because you couldn’t get comfortable. I tried to help you but nothing works right now. You told Mom and I that you will never go on the ventilator again. Never. “Never allow them to do this to me again.” You said. We cried together, you told me how much you loved me… that I had no idea how much. Yeah I do, Kiddo. I know. I love you too baby sister. I need you here. I need the ‘whole’. I’m so glad you’re back. There’s still a long road ahead, but I know you’re here to stay now. For another while. Stay till we are old and grey. You, Margo and I will be sitting together pinching the butts of the orderlies waiting on us in the nursing home… I can see it now…

No more painful anxious waiting. No more worry. You’re back. So hurry up, get out.

I’m here.

Waiting.
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December 14, 2015

I sent you my book today.

You can’t figure out the kobo. You came into the shop and I put it all on the kobo myself. This way you can read it on the way to Mom’s. You make me laugh so much. I know when you read it you will give me your honest opinion. Bad reviews and all.
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December 18, 2015

Hey! I saw you again today.

It doesn’t happen often enough. I know I complain about it to you. I just love you kiddo. You look so happy and healthy today. I gave you your Christmas present early because you will be spending it in BC with Mom this year. I knew that you don’t have any photo albums and I had these ones made up, of you growing up and Trucker. I have another one coming, but it hasn’t arrived yet, it’s of our family, so you could have us with you all the time. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I know they will be cherished. I wish you weren’t always so busy, very busy. But, make time for me soon k?

I’m still here.

Waiting.
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December 25, 2015

I talked with you today.

Merry Christmas Sissy. You cried again, about the photo albums. You are so open and honest with your feelings. I’m so glad you are with Mom this year and that she has someone with her for Christmas. She and Don cherish the time you get to be there. Thank you for telling me they liked their photo albums too. More tears are not a bad thing. I hope you can spare some time when you get home. I’d like to see you soon. Hug Mom n Dad for me. Love you.

You took the time to read my book. You told me exactly what you felt. and that we need to get together and go through it together with a box of wine! Yes! Hurry home though, I have something here for you. Waiting.
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December 28, 2015

You texted me all the way home today. I love that you let me know where you are on that awful trip through the mountains. It’s always such a relief to see that one word come through my phone. “Home.”

I called Mom today.

She’s always so sad when any of us leave her there in BC. She told me how awesome your visit was and that you all just sat and relaxed for ten whole days. She told me how healthy you were. I smiled. This makes me so happy. You have struggled for so long against addictions and you have no idea how good it is to see you winning.
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January 1, 2016

I called you today.

“Happy New Year Seester!” You yelled at me through the phone. I reminded you of the Christmas present I have for you. “We’ll get together soon as I have time, Toni.”

I’m waiting.
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January 10, 2016

We met at Bob’s for Dad’s birthday today.

I was sad to see you hadn’t shown up again. I wish you knew that despite your past, we still love you. We just want to see you. All of us. You never have to avoid us Patti, but you do. Every family gathering is just missing you; it makes me sad. You make up a part of the whole. You are a part of the “Sum of our parts.” I hate that you’re always missing when we gather. It makes me sad. Hurry up Patti. Show up.

We’re here.

Waiting.
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January 17, 2016

Oh God! I texted you today.

You were so angry. I told you about Dad’s cancer and his surgery on the 4th.

“Why didn’t he call me?” you asked.

He didn’t tell me or Margo either, I just found out today.

“What! I bet he told the golden boy though didn’t he?”

Yeah. He knew. Dad told me he thought he told everyone.

“He ‘thought’ he told everyone??.. he’s soooo full of shit!! telling your fkn CHILDREN that u have cancer isn’t something you “think” you did. YOU TELL ALL OF THEM. Fkn goof!! Wow. I don’t have the energy 2 b hurt by him anymore, Toni. I have enough shit in life 2 deal with.”

I know. I’m sorry. I felt you should know. Fk hey?

Yep….
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January 28, 2016

I texted you today.

I’m tired of not seeing you. You called and we had a long talk about my book and your roommate. You called me a meathead! Because I forgot you don’t drink my red wine. White box only! You sent me ten silly pictures and again you made me laugh. I miss your face kid. Come see me.
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January 29, 2016

Billy called me at seven this morning. “Toni, I have bad news.”

He told me you went in to the hospital late last night. You told him and the doctor that you will not go on the ventilator. No intubation. The doctor said you won’t make it through the day. He told me that Mom is already on her way. Come on… really? It can’t be that serious right? We’ve been here before and you always pull through it. You’re a fighter.

I got dressed and came immediately to the hospital, but I called family members first like Billy had asked me to. Ally is in Edmonton, Bob in Fort St, John. They’re both coming. I still can’t believe I’m doing this. I think they’re wasting their time coming, you’ll be fine, right? I pack the Christmas present I had waiting for you.

I arrived at the hospital to see Billy in tears. He loves you so much. He has stuck by you for so long. I am thankful for him.

Oh Goobie, you look like hell. You smiled at me and though you can’t talk very well. You told me you love me. “Babygirl,” I told you, “I love you too.”

The doctor came in and he spoke directly to me.

“She’s made it very clear that she does not want to be intubated. It’s the only thing that will save her, and by her presentation it’s probably too late now anyway. All we can do is make her comfortable at this point. It will be a matter of a couple hours.”

He also called Mom. She’s your second in command. She knows your wishes Patti, and she also refused the doctor when he asked if he could intubate you. I know this decision to do as you asked, was the hardest thing she’s ever done. How do you give consent to let your child die?
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I held your hand again today.

I brushed back your hair and wiped your brow as you struggled to breathe. You kept trying to find a comfortable position. I crawled into the bed to help you sit up and you fought hard to try to find a position to breathe easier. You won’t find it Kiddo. Your lungs are filling and unable to process oxygen. I pull out the Christmas present I brought for you and I opened it and went though the pictures and described them to you, because you don’t open your eyes now. It’s an album of our family. I cried.
________________

I felt desperation today.

Oh God, Patti… Mom missed her flight. She begged me to tell you to hold on until she can get here. I did, I told you that you need to hold on little sister, did you hear me? You aren’t talking anymore.

Margo arrived. We sit with you and cry, laugh with memories and comfort each other. This is really it? You’re leaving me?

The nurses have been calling you Patsie. “Oh wow.” Margo said, “You don’t want to call her that. She likes Patti.”

“Yep,” I said. “You keep calling her Patsie and she will come out of this and strangle you.” Laughter rang out through your room and for a moment it didn’t feel like you were laying there unable to join in with the family antics.

Lexi arrived. Dad and Kathy too. Lacie called me, she’s on her way with little Harlowe. There’s a few of us here now, your nieces and nephews included. You are so loved. I know you never felt that, but you are. I know you have no doubts now.

Mom has boarded another flight and she’s waiting on a layover in Edmonton. Hold on Patti. Mom will be here soon.

They’re moving you to another room in Emergency. A quiet, more private area where we can all sit around you and love you. The nurses are so good to us. They know we are all in pain. The grief is palpable, it’s a heavy weight in this room. I feel it… a complete grief as I look at the faces around me and I see memories flowing through their minds. I see distant smiles and some tears. You have no idea how much we love you. Bob is here. He looks uncomfortable in his own skin. He doesn’t handle this well despite his acting so cool, so tough.

Margo laughed through her tears and said. “She can’t go yet, I have a fridge full of leftovers.” The room burst out in laughter as we recall your penchant for food when you visited any of us. I’ve had you clean out my fridge many times; chowing down on anything you could find. I giggled at those memories.

God I’m missing you, Kid. Cut this crap out. Sit up and tell me it’s all just a big joke. I will laugh. I promise.

Your breathing is so laboured now. You can’t get oxygen. They keep you comfortable with meds that allow you to breathe as best as you can. Mom texted, she’s at the Grande Prairie airport early. Bob has gone to get her, I think he was relieved to go. He is not as tough as he acts. I leaned over and told you in your ear that Mom was only five minutes away. You heard me. I see you begin to move and you start trying to speak. We all hear you Patti. You’re trying to say “ma, ma, ma,” so quietly and I hear your heart speaking. You waited for her…. You held on for her. I know that you’re tired, and weary, but hold on Patti, she’s coming.

The Reverend came in to pray with us. He asked you if you wanted prayer and you made it known you did. We all held hands and in a moment the love was heavy and clear. The angels await you now.

She’s here! Patti, she’s here. We all left the room so she could be with you alone for a bit. You need to say your goodbyes.

We all came back in and Mom crawled into the bed with you. We propped you up and Mom cried as she held you. I watched on and wiped the beads of sweat off your brow and your lip. Your skin is so soft and warm. I just love you Patti. That’s all. Love you.
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3:56 pm January 29, 2016

I let you go today.

You left me.

I watched you breathe your last ragged breath as Mom wrapped you up in arms of love. She sobbed as she held you, Dad held your hand and cried softly. Your family loves you so much Patti. We surrounded you with love. Your transition was one of peace and we sent you to be with the stars, in Love. You’ve crossed the Rainbow Bridge.

You became free today.

You left the shell of a body that held you captive. You’re free floating with Papa and Chico. I wonder if Grampa Beezer was there to greet you, and Aunty Sandra and Uncle Skip. Cuddle Clarity for me too if you see her; tell her I love her please.

Lacie commented as we gazed upon your peaceful face. “She’s still so beautiful.” I think I cried the hardest then.

I know you are happy now and I know you’re ok. I know you’re free from addiction and the damage done to you is healed. You’re free Babygirl. I’m comforted in the knowledge that when I cross the Rainbow Bridge, the first person to meet me will be you. So now…

I’m no longer waiting, Patti.

Now I’m no longer going to see your face. I’m no longer going to get any more silly texts. I’m so sad Patti, but believe I will feel you here with me. I know you watch over the kids and I. I know you will watch over that big old dog too. Trucker will come here to live with us like you asked. That dog loves Crunch and Crunch loves him back. We will watch over him until he comes to be with you. Billy can’t bear to part with him yet and he will keep him for a few more days, then bring him to his new home.
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We will have a family gathering at Bob’s on Sunday. I know you will be there. I know you will float around us, and sneak soft kisses on every forehead. Noogies too I imagine. I hear your voice…

“I’ll see you when I’m looking at ya.”

The sum of my parts is missing a portion. There’s forever a little empty space in my heart. I wait to have you fill it again when I come there to see you. For now, I know that it’s your turn.

You are there.

Waiting.
________________

I love you Sissy. Godspeed.
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January 28, 2017

It’s been a year, Patti. The firsts have come and gone… all except for tomorrow. It’s gonna be a tough one.
The family cries, and tomorrow will be their day to reflect; remember. Not me. I think of today as MY day with you, because it was a year ago on this day that we really talked for the first time in a while. We chatted for an hour about so many things. You spent time with me. You took time to be with just me. I cherish today.
Today I see my life in utter ruin and turmoil. I have no idea where I’m going to be in two weeks. I’d give anything to be able to call you Patti. Anything.
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January 28, 2018

God, I miss you so much today. It’s been a hell of a ride.
There are firsts even in the second year I’ve found. Days where I’d give anything to just be able to call you and say “Goob! Guess what!”
Its been a big year. You missed Crunch graduate into high school. Ally graduated from her course too. Chase got engaged. Margo is back working. Bob took a new job. So many things I want to share.
Me… for all intents and purposes, I lit a match and burned my life to the ground. I packed up and drove away thinking I’d never be back. Lol.
I’ve done so many amazing things this year and I’m so happy now. I would give anything to see your face, even just one more time. I know you would be so proud of me. Though I haven’t written since you left, I did start drawing again. I drew you. As I sketched your face I felt healing. I found some of my peace.

I hope you have too.

I love you so much little sister.
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January 29, 2019

I know you see me. I know you see my struggles and my victories. I’m working in the oilfield still and for the crazy money I sacrifice time with Crunch. I’m getting my debt paid off so I can go back to school. I got accepted into the nursing program in Kamloops. I’m not sure how it’ll work out but it’s a big start.
I’m happy kiddo.

We lost Don and Gramma June down here. I can imagine the hugs you gave Dad when he arrived on the rainbow bridge.
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January 29, 2020

I’m having a rough go today.

I’ve been lost in memories of you the last couple days. It’s hard to concentrate on school. Yes, I did it Patti. I’m in nursing school. My marks are all in the high 80’s and 90’s. I frigging hate the fact that I can’t just call you and tell you. I’m going to be a nurse!

Mom left. She sold our Heaven and moved back up north. I can’t even talk about it. I have a lot of bad days when I need her but I’ve withdrawn from her. Can’t even.

Crunch leaves tomorrow for up north too. It’s a sound decision for his future, but I’m scared and sad. I’ll be alone. I came down here for family and they’ve all left. I’m feeling sorry for myself. 😂

More firsts have happened. Joel had a baby boy. He’s adorable. Chase got married. Dallas has Sophia now and Lexi is training horses.

I hit a horse on the road in August. Of all things a horse. It died and I feel horrible for that. I know you get that because your love for horses was as deep as mine. Totalled my car and I’m having some issues. I’m getting migraines that knock me off my feet and I’m under that care of a cardiologist now. Fun.

Patti, above all I wish I could call you. Instead I write these silly updates knowing full well your eyes don’t see them. I talk to you when I need you and I know your ears don’t hear my voice. So here I am getting ready to go to school and tears are sneaking out of my eyes. There’s so much love in my heart for you, but there’s nowhere for it to go but down my cheeks.
People say time heals all things. They lie. It doesn’t.
Because when you flit into my mind the tears flow as easily as they did the day I lost you.
Rest easy Sissy.
I love you and miss you so much.

toniandpatti