Surfacing (briefly)

The evening I arrived home from the trip, I talked to Danny on the phone, and he was surprised at my voice: he said I sounded so unstressed. It was true. I haven't had much opportunity to travel these past 12 years. Travel suits me. Maybe I should have been a journalist after all. I came home from Atlanta, Knoxville and Pittsburgh refreshed and recharged.

One week at home and the edge is lost. This doesn't always have to be the way, but there are certain factors at play, and I don't see them getting better for the next while.

So I'm taking a quick break from writing about the trip (I still have more images and stories to share) to tell where I am at this moment.

Mom and Dad had to go home from the cottage on Thursday because she was experiencing a lot of swelling in her arm, neck and face, and the oncologist wanted to see her. Until now we supposed water-retention was a side-effect of the chemo therapy (because chemo can do that). The oncologist has switched her to a different drug, but said the swelling is due to the cancer, and unavoidable. Mom is taking it in stride, says she feels well, and they're returning to the cottage this week. But of course it is uncomfortable, the first real sign of the disease becoming palpable, beginning to kill her.

The strong bond I had with Mom for so many years is beginning to reassert itself. She has been on my mind all afternoon, and at moments I was afraid I was going to start drilling wrong-sized holes in a toe board. I feel I'm going to lose her soon, have already accepted this, but it begins to create a hollowness. Hints of it started to hit when I first heard the diagnosis five years ago, but I guess it's going to occupy more and more of my consciousness until some future time. I don't want to let her go, but now is not the time to resist her passage, because other family members are holding on tighter, and that only makes it more unpleasant for her. I used to be her confidant, I'm becoming one again, and must continue listening without succumbing to fear.

There are other things on my mind, but that is the most pressing.

Marian and Brenna were here over the weekend. Last summer we made a covenant to hike the entire Bruce Trail in our lifetimes. Saturday we made a modest start. Our time was limited, due to road closures and difficulties interpreting maps, but we did cover a short length of the trail near Forks of the Credit, ending up at an isolated green pond where I photographed this leopard frog. As ever, I'm grateful for their company on this journey.

I will also take next week off work to spend with them. We'll hike some more, attend a Rufus Wainwright concert, and end up spending the long weekend with my parents at Lake Fletcher.

My presence on LJ has subsided to post-only for a while now. I haven't been able to read, across the board, so please don't take it personally. This is part of my adjustment to working full-time and becoming more active in the local community. As an introvert I need solitude to recharge, and have learnt that engaging on LJ is not necessarily the kind of me-time I need. Many relationships here have become important to me, and I don't care to let any of them slip away, but for now I must be content in trying to maintain them by other means, hoping perhaps I'll find time to resume more LJ activity later.





( my hiking partners )