Retirement. It's a thing I think of every once in a while. However, it feels far away, and if I'm honest with myself, it's something that may never truly happen for me. I'm not excellent with money, and as previously mentioned, I don't think about it all that often. I feel like people that comfortably retire keep a close eye on their retirement fund, whereas I just let my work take care of it and as far as I know, they just put it all on red at the casino.
I read recently that 1 in 6 millennials have $100000 saved. I am POSITIVE that I don't know that many people with that much money saved. It also said that by 35 you should have double your salary saved, and again, that isn't where I'm at.
What is it that has me thinking about retirement now, you may ask. Today would have been my mother's 65th birthday. My dad, still with us, is 70 this year and still not retired. I imagine my mom wouldn't have been either. Perhaps a 'soft retirement' where she continues to make an income or something of that nature. Or who knows. It's been 12 years, nearly, since she passed and anything could have happened in that time to change the circumstances. And I was only 23 when she passed, so I might not have had the best grasp on where she was financially, but I think I have a pretty good idea.
Of course, it's not just the retirement that's been on my mind. This day, and the day she passed, always bring an increasingly hazy mix of memories and general malaise. It's a numb feeling and one that creates a discord in my brain as I sometimes can't feel anything and think that I should be. Sometimes, it's a day of deep feeling and a huge flood of memories as if I were with her just yesterday. I wish there were a way for me to funnel those things or control them in any way, or at the very least understand them. Until the possible day comes where I might understand that, I will be here, the waves passing over me with whatever they may bring, hoping to live healthily to a day I may retire myself.
Showing posts with label Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stories. Show all posts
Friday, August 24, 2018
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Extended Absence Due To Cats
I am aware that my posting has been down as of late, but there's a reason for that. Well, a few reasons. For one, I've been reducing my sugar intake and that pairs up with less brunch posts (though I am determined to try out some things that aren't just fresh fruit arrangements). Mostly though, we've had an interesting couple of months involving cats.
It all began with a friend posting an ad from Kijiji on a social media site. The ad was a cry for help from a person who was looking for a home for their pets while they underwent a medical emergency. We took in the cats and for a while, everything was hunky-dory. All six cats seemed to tolerate each other (I should say 4, one of the adoptives ran to hide in the basement and one of ours was completely sketchy). The adoptives each had personalities and other traits that mirrored our cats' and it was kind of neat discovering them. Then one day, something changed. I'm not sure if the balance of power amongst them switched or the other guys were just getting comfortable here, but they became the dominant group. The old guy in their group began sitting on top of our old guy wherever he chose to rest and would stay there until he pried himself up and moved. The polydactlyl one would chase around our small one until she hid under something (kitchen island, bathroom cupboards, etc.) and wait at the edge taunting her. The one who hid in the basement came to the top of the stairs, not brave enough to come out, but still would stand his ground at the cat door, preventing the other cats from getting to the basement (where the litter box is...and yes we tried opening the door, but they still wouldn't go past him). This very quickly progressed to our cats peeing other places. The one we caught we took to the vet and he had a 'possibly stress-related urinary problem'. Great, he peed all over our family room chair, the bathtub and the front hallway multiple times. In comes a litter box for the spot by the front door. What a wonderful way to greet house guests! Still though, it fixed the problem and in no way is that a bad thing. Then, though, our cats began showing up with scratches on their faces and bodies (vet said the body ones could be stress-related). One day, our old guy was not sitting properly and had a really swollen genital area. We immediately took him to the vet and they diagnosed him with 'crystals' in his urine that was blocking the tract. Now, this most likely was a result of us feeding him a blend of generic food and the more expensive high-protein food we usually feed our cats (6 cats is pricey) and not his normal vet food. I am taking full blame for this, even though the vet said it can be brought on by stress. Anyhow, we then had to monitor the old dude AND keep the other cats separate and the two factions separated from each other. The result was each floor of our house having either one, two or three cats cordoned off. Our cats are all back together post-healing, but still separate from the other ones for now. We are trying to get things dealt with, but it's not feeling fair to either set of cats.
Now, I realize that this makes the other cats seem like jerks. On their own, they are EXCELLENT cats. Very snuggly and sweet, but put 6 cats together and they are going to form a hierarchy of some sort and most likely, as happened, the two sets of three would stick together and be against one another. One set was bound to become the alphas and it just happened to not be ours. It's been a very stressful experience, for the cats especially, but us as well. I think fostering is a great and important thing and one we will probably do again, but maybe not until our cats have lived out there life stress-free.
It all began with a friend posting an ad from Kijiji on a social media site. The ad was a cry for help from a person who was looking for a home for their pets while they underwent a medical emergency. We took in the cats and for a while, everything was hunky-dory. All six cats seemed to tolerate each other (I should say 4, one of the adoptives ran to hide in the basement and one of ours was completely sketchy). The adoptives each had personalities and other traits that mirrored our cats' and it was kind of neat discovering them. Then one day, something changed. I'm not sure if the balance of power amongst them switched or the other guys were just getting comfortable here, but they became the dominant group. The old guy in their group began sitting on top of our old guy wherever he chose to rest and would stay there until he pried himself up and moved. The polydactlyl one would chase around our small one until she hid under something (kitchen island, bathroom cupboards, etc.) and wait at the edge taunting her. The one who hid in the basement came to the top of the stairs, not brave enough to come out, but still would stand his ground at the cat door, preventing the other cats from getting to the basement (where the litter box is...and yes we tried opening the door, but they still wouldn't go past him). This very quickly progressed to our cats peeing other places. The one we caught we took to the vet and he had a 'possibly stress-related urinary problem'. Great, he peed all over our family room chair, the bathtub and the front hallway multiple times. In comes a litter box for the spot by the front door. What a wonderful way to greet house guests! Still though, it fixed the problem and in no way is that a bad thing. Then, though, our cats began showing up with scratches on their faces and bodies (vet said the body ones could be stress-related). One day, our old guy was not sitting properly and had a really swollen genital area. We immediately took him to the vet and they diagnosed him with 'crystals' in his urine that was blocking the tract. Now, this most likely was a result of us feeding him a blend of generic food and the more expensive high-protein food we usually feed our cats (6 cats is pricey) and not his normal vet food. I am taking full blame for this, even though the vet said it can be brought on by stress. Anyhow, we then had to monitor the old dude AND keep the other cats separate and the two factions separated from each other. The result was each floor of our house having either one, two or three cats cordoned off. Our cats are all back together post-healing, but still separate from the other ones for now. We are trying to get things dealt with, but it's not feeling fair to either set of cats.
Now, I realize that this makes the other cats seem like jerks. On their own, they are EXCELLENT cats. Very snuggly and sweet, but put 6 cats together and they are going to form a hierarchy of some sort and most likely, as happened, the two sets of three would stick together and be against one another. One set was bound to become the alphas and it just happened to not be ours. It's been a very stressful experience, for the cats especially, but us as well. I think fostering is a great and important thing and one we will probably do again, but maybe not until our cats have lived out there life stress-free.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Well, at least I know I was there.
The summer I was 17 years old, I was with my dad and a friend at the cottage. I say 'a friend', because for some reason, this is the part of the story that seems to be lost in the details. We told the story so many times with my friend 'B' that it became incorporated into the story. Then, a couple of summers ago, another friend, 'C', repeated the story to us with him there and that threw us for a loop.
Anyhow, I was hanging around my cottage with B/C one day being bored or just generally kicking around the sand, when my dad suggested that we go into town and find some girls to hang out with. I drove us in to Port Sydney, or perhaps it was Huntsville as we set out on this 'journey'. My dad swears up and down that we were back within twenty minutes, but I seem to remember searching the streets of whichever area we ended up going for a while. We may have even encountered and talked to a few people, but my memories of that part are hazy. Upon our return, my dad went on a tirade about how easily we had given up. "What the heck are you doing back here? Did you expect girls to be the first place you looked? And what good does coming back here for you? Do you expect girls to just fly in out of the air?"
Now, I'm not sure of the exact proximity of that comment to what happened next, but for the sake of the story, let's say that it was immediate. A hydroplane flew down and landed probably 500 metres away and two girls got out, climbed on the wing and began sunbathing. My dad turned to us and said "Well? What more do you want??"
We were all stunned. Hydroplanes do land on our lake from time to time, but I certainly had never (and haven't since) seen any girls sunbathing on the wings of one. The fact that it would have happened on the very day my dad said that specific thing is ridiculous.
(In case you are interested, we inspected the situation to see and they seemed about our age, but by the time we figured that out and made a motion towards canoeing out there, they packed up and flew away)
Anyhow, I was hanging around my cottage with B/C one day being bored or just generally kicking around the sand, when my dad suggested that we go into town and find some girls to hang out with. I drove us in to Port Sydney, or perhaps it was Huntsville as we set out on this 'journey'. My dad swears up and down that we were back within twenty minutes, but I seem to remember searching the streets of whichever area we ended up going for a while. We may have even encountered and talked to a few people, but my memories of that part are hazy. Upon our return, my dad went on a tirade about how easily we had given up. "What the heck are you doing back here? Did you expect girls to be the first place you looked? And what good does coming back here for you? Do you expect girls to just fly in out of the air?"
Now, I'm not sure of the exact proximity of that comment to what happened next, but for the sake of the story, let's say that it was immediate. A hydroplane flew down and landed probably 500 metres away and two girls got out, climbed on the wing and began sunbathing. My dad turned to us and said "Well? What more do you want??"
We were all stunned. Hydroplanes do land on our lake from time to time, but I certainly had never (and haven't since) seen any girls sunbathing on the wings of one. The fact that it would have happened on the very day my dad said that specific thing is ridiculous.
(In case you are interested, we inspected the situation to see and they seemed about our age, but by the time we figured that out and made a motion towards canoeing out there, they packed up and flew away)
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
What Has Been Stored Away Is Found Again
I have this email account that I NEVER check. Every time I get around to sorting through it, there are 2000+ unchecked emails in there. Now, this sounds like more than it is; because every time I sign up for something online or pay for something that requires an active email, I use this account. It then sends all updates for that thing I don't care about to that address and if you don't open them enough, they'll eventually just send right to spam anyhow. Regardless, I do only check it once every 3-4 months and try and trim it back to a reasonable size. For some reason, though, every once in a while I go digging through the older emails to get a bit of the ol' nostalgia.
Today was one of those days. I dug through old emails about planning road trips, weekends at the cottage, bitchy downstairs neighbours and a whole host of other things from a previous portion of my life. The very first one I actually opened, however, was an email about a day I remember very clearly. The letter was the last of a string of emails and read like this:
thinking worrying about what that meant and if it had any relation to the cancer she had battled several years before. I'm not claiming to be some sort of Seer here, it's just that I'm a hypochondriac and one that also projects it outward to those I care about as well.
However, this email had me in higher spirits and I went about said trip to 'London town' and headed back by train to be picked up for a lunch and some shopping with my mother (and perhaps Joe, my stepfather as well) at the station, as planned. When I got out of the station, I located their car and headed across the street. As I got closer, the door opened and out of the driver's seat came Joe and not my mom. My heart sank as Joe told me the pain was keeping her from getting out of bed and we'd have to postpone the shopping trip. That outing never happened and my mom never got up out of bed with any real meaning again.
So here I was, many years later, staring at an email I probably haven't looked at since that day. An email that marked a real turning point in my life and triggered the beginning of a long, turbulent ride. I wasn't even thinking of her before I checked my email - quite frankly I just did it out of sheer ennui, the whole family was either napping or in another room. Clicking on that one email led to opening a whole slew of emails and I quickly found myself re-living memories in a strange order, where one minute I was reading about fun things that involved my mom (or not) and the next minute I was reading condolences to do with her sickness or passing. It was very interesting and dug up several feelings and memories I hadn't thought about in a long time.
I can't decide if it's a good thing to keep these emails or not. I do find it comforting to have a hard copy of something I know she wrote herself, as long as I only visit them every so often.
I am thankful for this experience and mostly that it happened now, a time when I might not think about her as often as I once did and at the same time can view these things without it being overwhelmingly sad. Thank goodness I am some degree of an email hoarder (though not with newer emails - I do have a weird thing where I don't trust the address book and keep one email from everyone in my inbox in case I need to contact them at a later date. This add-on is way too long for brackets.)
Today was one of those days. I dug through old emails about planning road trips, weekends at the cottage, bitchy downstairs neighbours and a whole host of other things from a previous portion of my life. The very first one I actually opened, however, was an email about a day I remember very clearly. The letter was the last of a string of emails and read like this:
My mom had been having back pains for a couple weeks and when I had seen her for lunch a few weeks before she had also had some trouble getting her food down. In the interim I had been doing a lot of backgroundOK...I'll call your cell phone - look forward to seeing you then. Have a good weekend in London town :o)
xx Mom
However, this email had me in higher spirits and I went about said trip to 'London town' and headed back by train to be picked up for a lunch and some shopping with my mother (and perhaps Joe, my stepfather as well) at the station, as planned. When I got out of the station, I located their car and headed across the street. As I got closer, the door opened and out of the driver's seat came Joe and not my mom. My heart sank as Joe told me the pain was keeping her from getting out of bed and we'd have to postpone the shopping trip. That outing never happened and my mom never got up out of bed with any real meaning again.
So here I was, many years later, staring at an email I probably haven't looked at since that day. An email that marked a real turning point in my life and triggered the beginning of a long, turbulent ride. I wasn't even thinking of her before I checked my email - quite frankly I just did it out of sheer ennui, the whole family was either napping or in another room. Clicking on that one email led to opening a whole slew of emails and I quickly found myself re-living memories in a strange order, where one minute I was reading about fun things that involved my mom (or not) and the next minute I was reading condolences to do with her sickness or passing. It was very interesting and dug up several feelings and memories I hadn't thought about in a long time.
I can't decide if it's a good thing to keep these emails or not. I do find it comforting to have a hard copy of something I know she wrote herself, as long as I only visit them every so often.
I am thankful for this experience and mostly that it happened now, a time when I might not think about her as often as I once did and at the same time can view these things without it being overwhelmingly sad. Thank goodness I am some degree of an email hoarder (though not with newer emails - I do have a weird thing where I don't trust the address book and keep one email from everyone in my inbox in case I need to contact them at a later date. This add-on is way too long for brackets.)
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
A Different Take on a Holiday Gathering
As a child, it was a day I looked forward to with great anticipation. Each day growing more eager with anticipation. Some years I would get the thing I most wanted and inevitably, some years I would not. However, it was always a day I looked forward to, enjoyed and certainly relished opening gifts no matter what they held. As I got older, the gift giving became as much fun as the receiving; one of the greater joys is watching someone you care about getting enjoyment out of something you have put your heart into.
Even when my parents separated, Christmas tradition took on a new meaning and a new look. On the eve, my dad would take my sister and I skating at Nathan Phillips Square in Toronto and we would do our presents with him that night after dinner. We would return to our mom's house and sleep there (some of those years I still lived there) and wake up and do Christmas morning with her. In fact, the new tradition was not only enjoyable, but I think we probably made out a little better present-wise (a thing that is a by-product of some parental separations), if I'm being honest.
My sense of family Christmas-time took a massive blow the year my mother died. The effort of Christmas began feeling more stressful than exciting. Since that time, the skating tradition with my dad has held up and my wife and her family have done a wonderful job of setting up and taking care of dinner on Christmas day. It's a nice solid foundation to have her family all here in London, making for a reliable yearly tradition that I am very thankful to have. With my dad in Toronto and sister in Ottawa (her job has her traveling cross-country yearly leading up to the 23rd of December), it is a sort of patchwork deal as to when we can all get together around Christmas.
Last year, everything worked out perfectly that my sister finished here and her husband (and their dog) came out to join us. That's not always the way, as scheduling and weather is not always on our side. This year, she was in town this past Sunday and being the only holiday time with her, I tried to make the most of the opportunity. My wife's parents agreed to take our daughter so we could enjoy the matinee showing of the show she produces and they would see the evening one. My wife was wonderful and took our daughter so I could stick around for the second showing and join the whole group for a drink afterward. Our son stayed for the first half to get a look at the inner workings of the show and offered to help sell merch during the breaks. I drove him home and returned to the show. I got a feeling it would end up being a subdued sort of evening. They had flown cross-country the previous day and had endured a two-show day and had a week to go.
We left the venue at about 11 and a few people on the bus decided to head to a pub across from their hotel to meet a couple of the singers from the show who were already there. We drank a few beers as the show members 'talked shop' and about upcoming shows. Around midnight, the bar set up karaoke and what I originally thought would be an early night took a wonderful turn. As usual karaoke goes, the group included a range of talent from mediocre to impressive. The trio of wonderful female singers from the show (dubbed the Vinylettes on the tour, but go by The Measure at other showings) got up and did a harmonized version of 'Don't Stop Believing' by Journey that kicked the night up to a different level. All four of the show's singers got up at various times and did wonderful versions of songs and bar patrons had some lively takes as well. I convinced the DJ to let us leap-frog the line and do the last song, so long as I could get the girls to come up. We chose 'Midnight Train to Georgia' as the show-stopper, with the professional singers taking the lead and the rest of us as 'The Pips'.
All in all it turned out to be an incredible night and served to remind me that holiday gatherings can be unexpected, spontaneous and special in an entirely different way than the kind you are used to. I am very thankful for this night and hope that in it in its own way can become a new tradition.
Even when my parents separated, Christmas tradition took on a new meaning and a new look. On the eve, my dad would take my sister and I skating at Nathan Phillips Square in Toronto and we would do our presents with him that night after dinner. We would return to our mom's house and sleep there (some of those years I still lived there) and wake up and do Christmas morning with her. In fact, the new tradition was not only enjoyable, but I think we probably made out a little better present-wise (a thing that is a by-product of some parental separations), if I'm being honest.
My sense of family Christmas-time took a massive blow the year my mother died. The effort of Christmas began feeling more stressful than exciting. Since that time, the skating tradition with my dad has held up and my wife and her family have done a wonderful job of setting up and taking care of dinner on Christmas day. It's a nice solid foundation to have her family all here in London, making for a reliable yearly tradition that I am very thankful to have. With my dad in Toronto and sister in Ottawa (her job has her traveling cross-country yearly leading up to the 23rd of December), it is a sort of patchwork deal as to when we can all get together around Christmas.
Last year, everything worked out perfectly that my sister finished here and her husband (and their dog) came out to join us. That's not always the way, as scheduling and weather is not always on our side. This year, she was in town this past Sunday and being the only holiday time with her, I tried to make the most of the opportunity. My wife's parents agreed to take our daughter so we could enjoy the matinee showing of the show she produces and they would see the evening one. My wife was wonderful and took our daughter so I could stick around for the second showing and join the whole group for a drink afterward. Our son stayed for the first half to get a look at the inner workings of the show and offered to help sell merch during the breaks. I drove him home and returned to the show. I got a feeling it would end up being a subdued sort of evening. They had flown cross-country the previous day and had endured a two-show day and had a week to go.
We left the venue at about 11 and a few people on the bus decided to head to a pub across from their hotel to meet a couple of the singers from the show who were already there. We drank a few beers as the show members 'talked shop' and about upcoming shows. Around midnight, the bar set up karaoke and what I originally thought would be an early night took a wonderful turn. As usual karaoke goes, the group included a range of talent from mediocre to impressive. The trio of wonderful female singers from the show (dubbed the Vinylettes on the tour, but go by The Measure at other showings) got up and did a harmonized version of 'Don't Stop Believing' by Journey that kicked the night up to a different level. All four of the show's singers got up at various times and did wonderful versions of songs and bar patrons had some lively takes as well. I convinced the DJ to let us leap-frog the line and do the last song, so long as I could get the girls to come up. We chose 'Midnight Train to Georgia' as the show-stopper, with the professional singers taking the lead and the rest of us as 'The Pips'.
All in all it turned out to be an incredible night and served to remind me that holiday gatherings can be unexpected, spontaneous and special in an entirely different way than the kind you are used to. I am very thankful for this night and hope that in it in its own way can become a new tradition.
 |
| The Measure aka The Vinylettes |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)