Thursday, July 26, 2007

in theatres now


Last night I took J to see "Walking With Dinosaurs", and it was amazing. I have never seen anything like it. I wish Shawn had been with us.

Tonight after her day camp is over we are going to go to the Science Centre to see an Imax movie and Star Show and just to wander around and learn and touch and play.

I love doing things like this - and doing them with a child makes them more exciting. Her wonderment becomes mine.

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Little Puppy's dental check yesterday was very successful. Dr.S. told me that her teeth look great and that there's nothing to be concerned about. I was overjoyed, truly, so much so that I nearly wept in the office, but struggled not to be ridiculous and brought Little Puppy home to celebrate with crunchy cookies.

I have become even more (if that's possible) protective of her, and get distraught when I think of anything bad happening to her. It makes me foolish in terms of seeing the vet far more often than I need to because I'm constantly scared something is wrong with her. But I'm trying to get over that fear so we can both enjoy her life.

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Shawn found someone to replace the rotting roof in our new house. In fact he found two different guys to do estimates and we were really surprised to find the price difference between them was enormous; one was almost double the other. And the more expensive one was going to charge extra to reseal the two skylights and to clean the gutters, while the other guy was throwing those things in free as part of the job.

Again, this goes back to feeling like I have become part of the mob or something, because the roofer is yet another friend of Shawn's stepmother, who seems to be connected with every business in town. She's already told Shawn not to go and buy his new car without her. Heh! I'm so glad to know someone who actually enjoys bartering because I absolutely hate it.

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My long-lost friend, C, the one who is now in Vancouver, has written a few times since I first contacted her. When I commented I couldn't believe how much things had changed, she replied that in spite of a few details she was basically "depressingly the same". I found that interesting in contrast with my other friend, T, the one who is fighting cancer, who seems to feel that motherhood has changed her completely.

I wonder which way I would feel.

I have been waiting for something in C's letters to affirm me in some way. Something as blatant, perhaps, as "You are still the best friend I ever had and of course when you arrive here I will want to pick up right where we left off."

Of course she doesn't say things like that. Neither do I. I can't even remember if we ever talked like that when we were together all the time. I don't really think so.

She told me that A is still drinking, which I was disappointed to hear. Somehow I'd imagined that since so much else had changed that maybe that could change too. She said he's better, less out of control than he was before, when I met him, but that he still has problems with it. I had refrained from asking since he had really been the only source of angst between us, and had tried to respond positively to all mention of him, "How wonderful that he's selling his art now!" and so forth. The thing is that she didn't fall in love with him when he was well and then stick by him as he grew ill. She fell in love with him this way, a half-blind stumbling alcoholic.

I don't really understand it - but it's not mine to understand. She knows much more of him than I ever did, and has obviously found redeeming qualities that add up to make the other difficulties worth enduring. After her latest letter in which she said he is still having trouble with the drinking, I apologized for being judgmental of him back then and said I really just hoped she was happy no matter how.

That was true. Very true. It was true back then too, although back then I was under the impression it was only a matter of time until she would come to her senses and be rid of him, and thought that staying away until he was gone would just hurry the process. It didn't really occur to me that instead she might run off and disappear with him and we wouldn't talk for six years.

One of the gifts that aging brings is the ability to see things less black and white and to be softer in dealing with that fact.


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