. . . it was just starting to all go to shit. Seriously. Mum’s sister had just passed away and Mum was just about to return from Nova Scotia where she had been with the rest of her family during the last days. We were planning our trip to Cape Breton in October since it had been a LONG time since I had been down east. I was finally gonna see the fall colors of Cabot Trail. Then in June we got a call that mum’s brother, Carmie, was in the hospital. So we moved our trip up. Jenge and I each juggled to see if both of us could go. In the end, Jenge couldn’t leave work, but it was actually a good time for me. Ann, Mum and I were off to Cape Breton. Then we got the call that Carmie had died. Then Darren, my bro-in-law, got in a car accident and Ann had to cancel. Mum and I went to the funeral down east. Then Jenge called, Dad was sick and in the hospital again. We came home, Dad got out of the hospital. Then Dad went back in the hospital. Then Dad died. And that was that.

You hear alot of platitudes during a time like that. Everything happens for a reason, time heals all, it was his/her/their time. Everyone means well. Everyone wants to be able to say something to you that will make you feel better. And you lie and tell them that they are right, and that their words help, that what they say is true. But really, it’s all kinda bullshit, isn’t it? I mean we’ve all been through muck and was there ever anything that anyone said to you that made you feel better about it? Prolly not. But we all keep on keepin on.