I have not blogged in a while, having suffered through an extended bout of PTSD these last months; Present-Toronto-Stress-Disorder.
A while ago we put all our worldly belongings into storage, and set out on a six month long adventure, hoping to change our lives en-route.
During this journey we've carried keep-sakes and photographs to remind us of friends and experiences.
These pictures are of some of those reminders.
Our other belongings remain in storage four years later.
When my mother died, that sad event affected so many things. A by-product of her death is the continued care of the ninety-two
year old Crankiest Pensioner ever. It's daunting to return to a childhood home, a place with few happy memories, to look after the architect of that unhappiness. But this is where we remain today, at least for another week or so.
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Cranky? Honestly, how cranky can a ninety-two year old be? Aren't you exaggerating just a bit? No. No I am not. Imagine a man who loathes others' happiness so much that he presses cat-faced coasters in front of the television to block out the exuberant smiles of a victorious Andy Murray. CP dislikes genuine joy. It makes him very mad.
It must be war-time residue, that perpetual anvil dangling over his head, that causes him to yearn for the end of the world. It is a betrayal that the place still exists at all.
CP has made it plain he does not want things to continue on after he's gone. He would like the entire planet to just disappear the second he leaves his mortal coil. While he dislikes pretty well everything, he does not want to miss a moment of misery. Dickens couldn't invent a grimmer character.
His favorite TV viewing is the Weather Channel, the section where they show catastrophic events from around the world. Tsunamis, blizzards, floods, and ice storms, you name it, he loves them. 'How close is that to us?' he asks hopefully about the Costa Rican hurricane. 'That volcano erupting on the other side of the world could wipe out Etobicoke'. He's optimistic the lava flow will somehow find its way from Mount Etna to Toronto.
Just when I had gathered the strength to blog again, the
wind was knocked out of me by the election. A bout of Permanent Trump Stress
Disorder displaced my pre-existing Present Toronto Stress Disorder.
Perversely, this election cycle should bring great joy to CP, someone yearning for the end of the world could actually glimpse it now. But the fates are toying with him. The downside of the onset of dementia is that Cranky Pensioner has forgotten there ever was an election. Something that could have made him so happy is beyond his grasp.
Perversely, this election cycle should bring great joy to CP, someone yearning for the end of the world could actually glimpse it now. But the fates are toying with him. The downside of the onset of dementia is that Cranky Pensioner has forgotten there ever was an election. Something that could have made him so happy is beyond his grasp.
So how do Husband and I maintain our sanity in this situation? Well, as mentioned, we carry with us keepsakes to remind us of friends and experiences. Photographs are an obvious and easy take-a-long. Pictures flicker across our computers as ever-changing screen-savers that bring smiles and good memories.
We travel with fabrics from trips to India, Sri Lanka, and elsewhere,
as well gifts given us by friends. The Pink Cottage was decorated with
them to give us a sense of home. And
now here in Toronto we do the same. Our personal memorobilia does battle with the unfriendly reminders of an unhappy childhood that lurk around each corner. Old versus new, and new is winning.
A bonus of this time in Toronto is returning to school and renewing old friendships.
Much life has happened in the ensuing years and the opportunity to catch up with friends, some not seen since high school, has been amazing. We've also made excellent new friends and created great new memories that we'll take along with us on the next leg of this journey.
The only constant is change. Even though we cannot wait to get back there, Post-Brexit England is not the same place we left last November. Post-Election, the US is not the same place we left nearly four years ago. And, when we leave Toronto on our reprieve, it will not be the same place we landed in last year.
Cranky Pensioner, while still praying for the end of the world, is being pacified by his burgeoning dementia. The roar is leaving the lion. In its stead is a person who has actually expressed some gratitude for the care he gets. It's nice to finally see a grateful person emerging from his casing of lifelong anger.
Alas, I speak too soon. The other day I heard uncharacteristically hearty laughter coming from upstairs. Some newfound joy in life perhaps? Turns out a soccer match had been rained out and the players milled miserably around the field while sodden fans trudged out, some huddled under umbrellas, others comforting disappointed children. Cranky Pensioner was beside himself with glee.
