This morning i had four important phone calls in a row. Usually, because i am anti-social, i never answer calls from unknown numbers. But today, today, something in my heart told me i should.
The first call came from my lawyer. My divorce lawyer. It was a conversation that reminded me of a flaccid pubescent penis confronted by the hot cheerleader. "You can do this." "You deserve this." "You are smart and pretty and the best damn waitress around."
I still felt flaccid. Limp. I am a virgin in grouchy divorce waters. I am a dog begging for her belly to be rubbed. No. I am a passive dog with my ears back who rolls over in front of you and shows you my most vulnerable parts and begs "Don't take advantage of me?"
And so he stole my money and i said "Okay!" "Sounds good." Check. Cheque $1500.
The next call came from my insurance adjuster. I have been warned about these dudes. They are all on your side. "I'm on your team." "I would never do this for anyone else, but we can see you're a special case. Single mother and all…" But then, then, when your policy is completely maxed out. Maxi pad on heavy day maxed out. Push comes to shove. And he is shoving. If you give up your metal roof, which you already paid for, we can give you your wood stove. Fine. Because i know that living in the country the power goes out all the time, for days on end. And let me tell you that grows old pretty fucking fast. Try cooking soup on a propane campstove, outside in the snow – 14 times in a row – then you will know the burning desire for a wood stove. When you live in the country.
The third call came from my Contractor. "There are a few problems with the remaining structure."
"Oh. Yeah?"
"Yes. You need to find a guy to fix them before the building inspector comes to give us final permits on friday."
Now i am getting angsty and jumpy. My daughter has swine flu. I have been up every hour for three nights to check on her breathing. I have missed two nights of work and i am pretty sure there is not enough money in my account to pay my mortgage on friday. I am feeling fucked and like this single mom thing pretty much sucks ass and how i should have done something more with my life besides having babies and ending up miserable and a waitress. But then? Then i wouldn't have my beautiful babies.
"Okay. But isn't that why you are there? Isn't that why i gave you $75,000 dollars last friday, when you called it 'lock-up'?" Meaning the house is yours motherfucker. I don't know anybody who can do those repairs.
"Okay. I'll find somebody." And they better work for free because i'm pretty sure when my mortgage and insurance payments bounce on friday i am screwed.
And then my phone started clicking for a call waiting.
"Gotta go."
"Hello?"
And it was the doctor. He's not my doctor. He's the specialist dentist/doctor who did my biopsy in my mouth 25 days ago.
A bunch of mumbo jumbo happened.
And then "there is cancer. I'm sorry. I am referring you to the cancer clinic."
"Oh. Okay. Thanks!"
And i literally said it that way. "Thanks!"
And do you know what i did? I kid you not because this is the part that will haunt me for the rest of my life. I went outside. I sat down. And with trembling hands i lit a cigarette. Yes. I did that. You have mouth cancer and she goes outside and fucking smokes. I didn't know what else to do. Believe me i felt the irony and fucked upness of that moment. But, i didn't know what else to do. I had nobody to call, or nobody i wanted to call.
You see. I knew. I knew all along that this would be the result. I knew back in the summer when my dentist first noticed. I knew during that agonizing three month wait for the biopsy. I knew when the specialist frowned. I knew when i got a bill from him last friday that said "Tumor biopsy – $278" I knew when i left a message yesterday asking for results.
And i did know tonight when i talked to my best friend in the world and couldn't tell him. I waited and called him back an hour later and told him.
I mean it is not completely bad. I have a tumor in my mouth that has cancer cells in it. They haven't spread or "broken through."
I called the doctor back later, confused, "so, does this mean i have cancer?"
"Yes, yes it does."
My two youngest kids spent many nights in the hospital when they were young. Eliza was hospitalized on nine separate occasions for asthma, pneumonia and the flu. Parker has been hospitalized four times for pneumonia. They both continue to take singular, steroids and a puffer for asthma.
Tristan tested positive for H1N1 earlier this week. It has been over two years since we have had a stay on the pediatric floor. Sometimes i go long lengths of time not thinking about their weakened immune system, when the swine flu epidemic gained momentum a few weeks ago i began researching the vaccine and had decided that we needed to get it. As a mother the thought of putting my children at risk, in any way, is not an option. The risks of vaccination, for me, have always been outweighed by the risk of illness.
The fact that H1N1 entered my home before the vaccine was available is beyond frustrating and alarming.
They are tearing down my house. Well, they are tearing it 1/2 down. They will cut it down to five feet above ground and then they will raise it 6 inches and build it again. It will still sit on the same foundation. It will still have it's old, blistered and bony feet. The feet which have carried it through the past 100 years.
As it is taken apart more stories unfold from within the walls. Five additions over the years, one brought in from somewhere else. What started as a little one room house on several acres of land has been subdivided and added on. Fifty homes built around it. Families coming and going. A neighborhood created.
If we are lucky we will move into our home in march. Things being what they are, we are thinking april so as not to set ourselves up for disappointment.
Despite the beautiful autumn outside my window. Oranges and reds reflected off the lake, morning mists, and canada geese floating by. Despite all the beauty i am anxious to get out of this house. To have my things, to read the books hiding away in boxes in storage lockers.
I feel spoiled. I should be appreciating this opportunity to live in expensive, expansive waterfront homes. I have not been taking very good care of myself. My appetite has faded to a whimper. I forget to eat and when hunger calls i can't think of a single thing that i want. I've been staying up way too late. I've been waiting for the results of my biopsy, i should have heard by now, but can't bring myself to call. My to-do list sits undone. I find it easy to not look at it.
I sit and look out the windows at the lake. iTunes on shuffle. Drinking tea and thinking about all the things. All the things.
While we were in vancouver, sitting around my parents table, enjoying a family meal toby piped up with "i can't believe m mom is a waitress." There was silence. Dead, uncomfortable, heartbreaking silence. I burst out laughing.
"Neither can i!" i smiled at him.
It was okay. This was not my life goal. I never really had any goals. I never had time. I graduated from university, got married and got pregnant – four times.
For many years i believed that my kids were my greatest achievement, the center of my life, my universe. That nothing else i could ever do would equal the magical, momentous task of raising four children.
Perhaps they are my crowning glory. Which, in all honesty, is a title i would be very proud to be the owner of. But, lately i've come to realize that there just might be more. I might have something else to give to this world. Another significant thing.
I am coming back for you, leave the house after supper
meet me at Low Gap, I will come with two horses, one in each
hand, they will be striped with darkness and the shadow
of deep wells.
"The Jesse James Poems" Paulette Jiles
The one thing i fail to learn, year in, year out, is that expectations will get you nothing. Expectations will give you sleepless nights and stomach aches, longing and doubt, disappointment.
My birthday weekend turned out to be full of antibiotics and changes of plans and making do with what was on hand.
The kids and i had a great time together, which at the end of the day when i look in my heart and think of what i truly want – it is special moments and memories with them. We played laser tag and hung out with family. I was a little off because of a nasty infection, but my sister, the doctor, quickly sorted me out. I was a little off because i had expected to see friends and have some time to myself and my dreams. I was a little off.
The kids mirrored my mood, my mood swings. We all swung high to low, glee to anger. It was a challenging weekend. I have to remind myself that holidays are especially difficult for them. We are not together as a nuclear family, we are together as a new family. Post-nuclear.
I have to learn to limit my expectations to what they can handle, what is best for them. Save my dreaming for my time without them.