Remembrance Day

Can't let this end on a note of sunshine.
Wouldn't be right.

 Remembrance Day...beginning of our Winter...the end of many things...

Excavating Angst...Accidentally

Our usual leader at Writer's Group has been away so I offered to head up the June meeting, held yesterday.  For our writing exercise I offered everyone the choice between 'Can you go home again?' or 'what was your first significant pet?'

I had been reminiscing about my two gerbils, Ticky and Chi-Chi who gave me nothing but happy memories and many, many litters of brand new gerbil babies which were the easiest thing in the world to give away at the time.  I would spend hours with them out in the dirt patch, digging channels and pits for them to roam.  My weird, little 10 year old brain invariably got a big kick out of imagining infractions that would result in the gerbils being sentenced to solitary confinement until one by one the gerbils would wind up all together in 'solitary' confinement...get it?...get it??
As I said: strange little child.

But for the rest of the group?
Oh. My.
The assignment uncovered a world of hurt and unresolved loss.  The first person to read her piece presented a beautiful, warm, sensory account of her first morning with a new puppy...'kay, that's kind of where I though we would go...  Writer number 2 jumped in right after with a decidedly different tone; hers, from the perspective of a dog who cowered beneath a sideboard between beatings.  Very dark and riveting.
From there, every single account and anecdote became increasing sad.  One person had to surreptitiously dispatch a rapidly ailing pet on a camping trip...another informed us that our town has a bylaw against burying animals in town (read: backyard) and had conscientiously complied which meant taking his beloved cat to the dump in a garbage bag and having to pitch it into the large pit reserved for animal carcasses.  He can still get choked up when passing the dump.  Another situation involved disinterring the bones of their dear family dog while replacing a fence.  The final person given a chance to read declined since she felt she would become too emotional but did add that it was nice to be able to write it out.
Quite a few tears and a completely different tone than I'd anticipated.

Like the father of a recently deceased young person stated "With great love comes great loss".

Memorial In The Woods

Ten years ago today Jessica celebrated her 18th and final birthday.  Three months later she died near this spot in a single vehicle accident where the car skidded off the gravel road and rolled into a ditch smashing Jessica into the windshield.
She was her parents' only child.
This was one of those situations where you feel scalded by the news and know that recovery will take a long, long time.
That fall I saw her mother, out for the first time at the craft fair.  It was overwhelming so she couldn't endure it for long but before she left I offered to teach her painting as a diversion, therapy of a sort and transition back into a bit more of a social life.
Shortly after she phoned and we arranged to have her come by once a week; this arrangement lasted for over a year where she came to learn much about drawing, painting and to remember and grieve.
She taught me a lot about grief.
I wish I could say I did it for lofty reasons.  No. I may have offered in empathy but was all too aware that as I continued I was trying to make a deal with God.
"See God? I can help, I can do this for someone...I don't have to be a member of The Club...let me keep my children, all of them...please?"
Mother's Day is an awful time for my dear S.
Her status update last year read: I'm a childless mother and a motherless child, having lost her own mother at the age of 15. 
I'd love to be able to lift all that sorrow from her overflowing heart but that will have to wait till she is taken home to be forever with her sweet, sweet Jessica.  For now I will simply pray the best I can and think of them each time I pass the memorial on Forest Avenue.

Goodnight Gracie

Said good-bye today to the most light filled young lady I've ever met.  She was 22.
Her father summed up Grace perfectly with this brief phrase: relentless zest.
The Art Club was blessed with her presence for a couple of years and this is where I came into possession of a couple of her whimsical cartoons at our season end art card trades.

She was afflicted with a disorder that first presented as hemiplegic migraines; these progressed to a seizure causing malady and was later diagnosed as a degenerative neuro-muscular syndrome that has yet to be fully understood.  Her Vancouver physician vowed to continue searching for a cause and ultimately the cure that she always hoped to discover in time to save Grace.
A slide show of her life played throughout the ceremony and most photos featured her larger-than-life unique smile.  As the casket exited the church with her crutches placed on top...we experienced one last painful, poignant reminder of her years of resilience and struggle.

It seems a very cruel ... law, almost... that these very sweet, gifted, young lights are extinguished after shining so briefly.

It Was The Best Of Days...

...when TwinB received the phone call from the Alberta College of Art and Design informing her that she'd been accepted for January.  They'd had a 70% increase in applicants over September so it took a long time to sort through however, earlier they had mentioned that her portfolio was 'a high priority'.
She had a few minutes...maybe even a couple of hours to savour the news and then

It Was The Worst of Days

when she got a message via facebook that her best friend ever - her 'soul-twin'  Adam had died of a drug overdose a few hours earlier.  The chain of information and message was exactly the same as a false alarm we'd heard 4 years earlier the day before TwinB moved to Calgary but somehow...somehow she knew this time it's for real.  Our fragile yet endlessly resiliant Adam is gone. His addictions, a terminal illness.  
I've been reading snippets of the messages he sent 'B that she'd posted on livejournal.  They loved to play dress-up and write poems and stories together.  They found each other endlessly inspiring.

He would refer to himself as a palsied little bitch due to his mild cerebral palsy and on occasion he was a real live...person with perpetual drug problems.  He was also one of the sweetest young fellows I've ever met and am grateful to know him.
Your 23 years of struggle are over.
Update: March 3/12
Damn. Wish you were here.
Betcha never figured that your death would trigger so much shit and fall-out.
People loved you and were SO posessive of your attention/friendship.
My darling TwinB has had so much angst and domino effect from your death...Adam...why...why...why...???
WHY???

Thanksgiving

Yellow crime scene tape blocks off a house across the street, kitty corner to my church this morning and for a moment I thought it might be early Halloween decorations but the absence of any other embellishments quickly ruled that out.  When we exited church I noticed three police vehicles and a quick look through facebook reveals the possiblity of a double stabbing.  Don't know yet if it has or will result in an actual murder but one victim had to be sent to Vancouver.  I'd heard sirens this morning and the number, timing and pattern of them was similar to our last murder so...wasn't too surprised.

Crime scene tape on a house on Thanksgiving looks particularily disturbing.  Maybe it's because Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year? (all the excuses for festivity and none of the pressure or expense of other holidays I could mention)
It sure makes one extra specially thankful.  Gonna go call the kids..

Update Monday: The wife who is several years younger than I succumbed to her injuries Sunday night.  The husband's in an induced coma for now. We all feel a pervasive sorrow for the senseless violence and it was physically/geographically so close to so many.  I live about one block from the scene.  Closer still is the thought that I dodged that particular bizaare bullet of being the parent of someone who went so far off the rails -  the intruder, according to news stories is a 19 year old Kitimat youth, found in the backyard of the home, possibly 2 hours after the event.
 Has psychosis written all over it.

Memorial #1

The Rod & Gun was filled to capacity this afternoon with coworkers and students who had appreciated Betty's passion for music and teaching.  Many of us hadn't realized that she was essentially a very quiet and reserved person...she must have found her niche in Kitimat because we knew her for her exuberance, sarcasm and dry humour.  She's seen here in the late 60s with her beloved clarinet which she went on to play professionally in several smaller city symphonies before turning to teaching.  The high school band program quadrupled in the 7 years under her direction.

There is a Memorial #2 pending with a possible 3rd following a fatal highway accident on Saturday that took the life of another high school teacher.  Her husband, also a high school teacher, has since been in a coma.  She was on my facebook since we have that special bond as Mothers Of Crazies.  TwinB sent a message of condolence to one of her daughters; they dealt with many of the same issues at the same time.

I discreetly mentioned to a good friend at the memorial that I felt a little paranoid at the moment - that it felt like we were being stalked by an invisible force.  She told me that everyone felt the same way, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Hope we're done with death for the summer.

Today the Music Died...

Betty the Band teacher was a member of the group organizing the Arts Festival and she energetically coached her many students and attended concerts through the end of June.
Now she's suddenly gone.
Last Wednesday - one week ago - she was taken to emergency where she was diagnosed with cancer and we knew she didn't have long but who could expected her death on the Wednesday following?
I keep seeing her face at one of the recent meetings we attended. 
Doesn't seem real and it sure isn't right.

What We Don't Know...

Pen and Ink/coloured pencil illustration by TwinB

TwinB left a comment on a blog we both read; it explained the cause of death of one of her friends in the fall of '09 that I had not been aware of to that point.  What a waste...what a waste...

the stars have always been there for me in moments where the cold indifference of nihilism was a frigging relief. you go for years clinging to a life you just want to end, you come to some sacred, inexpressable conclusion about its inate value, and then your friend from back in the day chokes on her own vomit and dies on a camping trip because the guys who got her drunk couldn’t just turn her onto her side. abra-cadaver, two little boys don’t have a mom, the stellar atoms of amanda go into the ground, and you’re still here with your precious life.
the night sky smirks and whispers “life is fucked. you’re welcome.”

Wizard of Oz Updatie Thing

Cornfield set piece for the scarecrow; it consists of a flat with a 'truck' and fence posts which I just faux wood grained today ...in less than an hour. (sorry...I have been taking great pride in my speed)

Detail from the hay wagon; it's on the reverse side of the gypsy caravan.  Been trying to compose the large backdrop of the Yellow Brick Road leading to the Emerald City today and got good input from my one and only helper Gail...pretty sure we got it figured out so that was a gigantic plus.  Next time might be the finisher!
*woot*woot*
Also got a fairly good jump on a very challenging commission so that's good ...but...don't know if I can actually pull it off and TwinB had a most depressing comment on someone else's blog regarding one of the deaths of last year.
This shit is so up and down.

So Long, Joe

Joe - a long time member of our Art Club died at the age of 72 last May which is the end of our yearly season so even though we visited the family, attended the funeral...it didn't hit as hard as the first meeting of the year.  Hard to process that empty spot across the classroom from me and I know the Craft Fair won't feel right without him standing by a table of his paintings at the end of the Activity Room in his 'Bavarian Suit' (it's like an business suit but with subtle embellishments that are definitely Alpen)  He painted one size and one size only!  Had to fit a 16" X 20" frame from Opus.  We would tease him about his frugality but we knew we could always count on his direct and honest approach to life along with his quiet humour.
He didn't take up painting till he retired but became one of the most active members of our group. 
This Kitimite got his 3 score and 10 - but he still leaves a significant hole.

Visit To Sammy's

The bff and I were showing off a totem pole out at the village this afternoon to her social worker practicum co-worker when we noticed renowned carver & jewellery maker Sammy Robinson waving us into his carving shop. We ended up enjoying an extensive tour and 40 minute chat about various things. I'm happy to see that he is back to carving wood - repetitive strain in his hands forced him give it up for several years but afforded the opportunity to take up carving in gold and silver instead and sell to movie folk!- he's enjoying some impressive professional success at the moment which is wonderful because...

...on the personal front he's taken several extreme hits and probably has several more in the near future. The carving above is in memory of one of his daughters who passed away just a couple of weeks ago, completely unexpectedly.

Here's what grabbed me more than anything else though...these are the remaining pieces from a chess set Sammy carved from antler, bone and seal's teeth...right up TwinB's alley!
...wishing you less 'interesting times' Sammy...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Here comes the rain again.
And there goes another one....a little bird leaves the cage.
16 year old girl at the the village took her life yesterday. I always think I don't know people when I first hear these things and then the avalanche of recollections and details buries me right along with them in the end.
There was a little girl at the high school last May/June who - although not in one of the art classes - I allowed to sneak into the mural because she knew all the fish from going out on a fishing boat with her father. She also used the word 'epiphany' correctly.
It better not be her.

Another Farewell

...this time to Miss Cheryl Ann D, age 57. It feels odd that you won't be haunting the streets of Kitimat anymore with all your bags, matching outfits and occasional props.
She was discovered in her home by the RCMP after someone was concerned that they hadn't seen her around in quite some time. The coroner figured she may have been there for 8 days or so but she was in her chair so we hope she went peacefully. A friend and I busted in to her place a couple times previously but since it always resulted in another stay on the psych ward for Cheryl she made it quite clear that our concern in that matter was definitely unwanted.
I looked after her cats last April/May and took her shopping following a final stint on the psych ward in Terrace. She had many health issues as well as the raging, lifelong, textbook case of bi-polar that tore a hole in her psyche that nothing could fill. Dozens if not hundreds of people tried to help over the years but nothing was ever right...the illness turned her into the most contrary person I've ever met - but during those rare times in between cycles we'd get a glimpse of the caring, fiercely intelligent person wrapped inside of all that psychosis.
There was most likely a dollop of autism in there as well - she often wouldn't greet people and if she did talk to you, her eyes would focus on a corner of the ceiling, unless you pissed her off and then holy crap could she ever pin you to the wall with a laser focussed glare!
As she made her rounds around town, I'm sure her presence prevented much mischief; she would refer to some of the young down and outs as 'her boys'. I know she lent an ear to some who had no one else to confide in.
I feel like a turd because I have photos of the squalor inside her home but not one of her.
Sorry Cheryl - I can't remedy that but I'll make sure you're remembered with the beautiful fabric pieces you so skillfully created.

Bye Bye Sunshine

Sorry you had to leave us so soon but thanks for hanging around as long as you did.

Jacob Jones - age 9 - afflicted with an ultra rare metabolic disorder (only about 30 kids with it in the world), succumbed to a virus last week.
I attended his celebration of life today - beautiful tribute.

I'll miss you and Mummy at my art classes...