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terrible, no good, very bad day

The bad day did NOT start cheerily at 7 a.m., like yesterday, but late, because I was awake for hours in the night worrying about my aunt. Her caregiver called last night while I was having dinner on the deck with my dear friend and former student Jason, to tell me how worried she is.

Beautiful day; hot. John the handyman arrived at 10 and we set out to tackle the tree roots that clog up the drains, by pouring in a solution that destroys them – and also erupts and spreads all over the floor. Floods. Much cleaning up. Then other things needed to be fixed. Thank God for John. This while I’m on the phone to Ottawa trying to decide whether I’m needed there while my poor old aunt is in hospital. Decide I am. Have a fight with a relative who knows how to push all my buttons, which roils me so much, my heart won’t stop pounding. But life is too short. Let it go. (Easy to say.)

John leaves, and immediately the computer man Matt, my personal genius, arrives with a new router. Two hours later, after much up and down and to and fro, testing, failure, success, he has set up the internet anew in this house. I’m still trying to deal with Ottawa, and in the middle of it all, heard the birds outside calling Danger and ran out with my water pistol to chase away the horrible grey cat who hides in the bushes and tries to kill.

Booked Ottawa – flight, car. Very expensive because last minute – but it’s important to see my aunt, who is marooned. I will miss Ben’s 3rd birthday party on Sunday. Never again, I hope, but as his mother said, he won’t remember, he’s three. More talking to Ottawa to let Do’s friends and caregiver know I’m coming and will be staying, for the first time, in Do’s empty apartment. At least I don’t have the hassle and expense of an Airbnb.

Also dealing with the ongoing thefts from the Little Free Library, the renovation plans which are flying to and fro, students who want private sessions, my own disintegrating body, the garden which needs fertilizer, weeding, and planting, (the beautiful multicoloured hydrangeas at the front are dying and I don’t know why), cancelling Anna’s friend Nicole who was coming on Saturday to help me throw things out. Carol my tenant is still here till Sunday, so at least I can leave without worrying about the house and watering.

And then the coup de grace – I finally got through to Do in hospital to tell her I’m coming, and she was furious and attacked me. Why didn’t I ask if I could stay in her apartment? Why am I coming now when I’m back in two weeks? Someone must have given her a very negative view of my visit.

I confess, it did feel as if I should just hang up and go back to bed. But I did not, and we’re fine now. But again, one of those days when it felt like I was trying not to be smashed by baseballs hurtling my way. And, of course, trying not to look at the news, because it makes me puke – now not just what’s happening down south but also here in Ontario. Gut wrenching. Maybe there’s a desert island?

And as for thinking about writing – the only words are LOL.

But the Thai boys are safe.

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4 Responses to “terrible, no good, very bad day”

  1. theresa says:

    I wish you well, in Ottawa, and with everything else. Sometimes it doesn't rain but, etc.

  2. beth says:

    Thank you, Theresa! It was pouring here, despite the hot hot sun. But – first world problems, I have not lost sight of that. It will be good to see my aunt. I hope you have a wonderful weekend.

  3. theresa says:

    Loving and caring for members of our family transcends any kind of "world-ism" if that's a word…? Take care, do something nice for yourself.

  4. beth says:

    I know, you're right. It's just when I heard the fury in her voice about my visit that I nearly gave up, since spending a lot of money to sit in an Ottawa hospital all weekend is not my first choice. But I realize, she's helpless, hanging on to what autonomy remains. And I will regret more not going than going. I think. So – onward. Thank you again for friendship and support from across the mountains.

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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