So, I’m going to end this travel series on the most positive note I possibly can. IN Sensei’ words and as I often write, for every negative, there is a positive; and vice versa. It’s been a rough week for me; dropping everything at the drop of a hat and travelling across the country to the East Coast to help my mother during a transition that I thought would never happen. Honestly, I always assumed she’d pass away before her mind went. But I walked away on Friday night confident in the fact that she’s safe, warm, sheltered and fed and has a great support system in place. In fact, I would have to go on record as saying I have the best fuckin’ family in the world. Part of me is thoroughly convinced that had they not intervened prior to my arrival, I would have been travelling out there to bury my mother instead of visiting her. But I digress… And I did say I would end this on a positive note.
As I wrote yesterday, Saturday morning saw me get up a few inches higher than the butt-crack of dawn and drive south on a dark, moose-infested highway from Northern New Brunswick and the City of Moncton. All in all, my travel day, if I include the driving (which I do), amounted to about 22 hours of total travel. Delayed departures threatened my ability to get home and flight changes at two different airports before touching down in Regina gave me a unique insight into the ignorance and undeserved self-entitlement that the general public seem to have when being in an airport terminal. But before I go off on some sort of negative tangent, I should probably get to the more positive aspects of my visit; of which there were many.
Taking care of a family comes with its fair share of responsibilities, which I’m sure I don’t need to tell any of you. When we usually travel out East, the opportunity to kick back and go out is pretty rare. This is mainly because my mother doesn’t have the constitution or control to deal with Nathan and Alexander, which means we limit our outings and interactions while in New Brunswick to a) what can be done during daylight hours and b) all together. The result is that I usually never get to see many of the friends and associates I still have in northern New Brunswick because most of them work day jobs and after supper, we’re winding the boys down and trying to get them to bed. From my side of things, it would be irresponsible and selfish of me to leave my wife with the boys in a random hotel room in a community she’s unfamiliar with, and take the only vehicle and say, “Have a god night, hun! I’m off to shoot pool and drink beer. See you later!” Dick move, imaginary me. Dick move.
This is one of the only occasions in nearly a decade where I was able to touch base and reconnect with some folks I haven’t hung out with in years. And I even got to go see Sensei’s son’s new house, which he had been begging me to go see for years. I reconnected and shared meals with some family members and was introduced to the wonder that is pork loin (Thanks, Daniel!) and will likely be trying to make it myself. I got to enjoy brunch with an old high school friend and fellow karate practitioner. I got to shoot pool and enjoy a couple of pints of the elusive Alpine beer, of which there is none in Saskatchewan. And last but certainly not least, I got to spend several hours sitting in Sensei’s warm living room reliving old memories as he provided sage advice and wisdom, even without asking for it. This is Sensei’s way.
in some ways, many ways, my mother has managed to teach me some valuable lessons through this entire process, as well. A part of me wants to share the image my aunt took of my mother’s emaciated form when she found her. She was on the brink of death and looked horrible. However, I don’t feel it would be respectful of me to expose my mother in such a private moment and it could be triggering or traumatic for some to see her that way. But the bottom line is my mother reached a point where she realized she no longer had anyone to take of and spent her days in silence. Alone and depressed, she gave up. It isn’t until family stepped up to start helping and being there, that she started to regain some constitution and start to get better. The way she appeared when I left on Friday was night and day compared to the photo I saw, only two weeks prior.
The bottom line is that we all need people. In whatever way, shape or form that takes holds for each of us, we need that in our lives. For my mother, she spent her entire life taking care of others. She spent two decades on a state of constant hyper-vigilance looking after my brother until he passed. Then, my father’s paralysis took hold and she took care of him until he signed himself into a care home. Finally, both my grandparents reached their end-of-life needs, which my mother provided for both. It isn’t until the past year or two where she’s had absolutely no one to take care of or look after. Years of constant stress and adrenaline have taken their toll, which contributed to her current state but the biggest caveat is that she couldn’t be alone. That’s what started to do her in…
Whether some of us choose to admit it or not, human beings are pack animals and we need others in order to survive. My mother was a clear example of this, as she is once again thriving. As much as a 75-year old woman who’s losing her memories can thrive, of course. But the lesson here and what I picked up during this trying week is that life is short. No matter what school of philosophy you adhere to or what you think happens in the afterlife, the life you’re in is but a flicker. At the snap of your fingers, it’s gone. So it’s important to live life and take the time to appreciate your family, loved ones and the important things in your life. This is an important lesson that I’ve always known but the rigours and stresses of life sometimes make one forget. It’s just unfortunate that my mother had to nearly die in order for me to remember.
The lesson was driven home (pun intended) the most as I disembarked from the final leg of my flight, at the airport in Regina. As I descended the escalator, I saw my wife and my two sons, patiently waiting for me to arrive. As I reached the bottom of the escalator, no act of God or man could have kept my redheaded little daredevil from plowing through large, adult crowds to plow into my arms. As shown from the last photo above, he was up as soon as I was, this morning and has been attached to me, ever since. I guess daddy’s home. Life eventually starts to take away more than it gives. That’s the inevitable secret of life. That’s why we need to enjoy the happy moments when we can, despite having them peppered with the sad ones. It’s the balance of life that means the difference between living, and just existing. Food for thought. And with that thought, I’ve got some life to go live. It’s good to be home. ☯️
The Blogging Buddhist 