The first time I heard "Major Tom (Coming Home)" by Peter Schilling, must have been the year the song came out - circa 1983-1984. It was originally recorded in German, and although it became an international hit in English, I think it must have been the German version that I first heard, oddly enough. I don't think I've heard that song since that time, until recently, when Shiny Toy Guns did a re-make in 2009 and it was used on the 2010 Lincoln MKZ commercial.

When I heard the commercial, I instantly remembered the song. I couldn't remember the name or the artist, but was able to eventually find it and add it to my playlist. I found the music in the song to be so beautiful - it was so uplifting and inspiring, that I found myself wanting to dance. That doesn't happen very often these days.

I had to figure out the lyrics so I could sing it. Thank goodness for Google. When I found the lyrics, I was so distressed. I'd just lost my father, and the lyrics were overwhelming. I was Really Pissed that there was such a contradiction between the music and the lyrics (there wasn't really, but that was my mindset at that time).

It really bothered me that I had remembered the song as being so beautiful, happy and uplifting, when the subject matter was of his death. I thought I'd see if I could find something on YouTube. Maybe there was a video that had been inspiring to me?

That's when I found it - a YouTube recording of the original German version of the song. When I watched that video, I was transported back in time. I was 8 years old, in my parents' living room, sitting on that blue shag rug, watching our newly acquired TV. Dad had the new remote control with its five shiny buttons. It was already pretty dark out, but my mother hadn't yet drawn the blue and turquoise curtains. Her pink scratchy chair with the orange thread, is empty and I can hear her in the kitchen; the water is running as she fills the sink to do the dishes. I can smell the remnants of the casserole she had made for dinner - in fact I can still taste it. Dad was sitting in his favourite turquoise chair, with the soft, cozy, afghan Mom had made - the one with the turquoise zigzag pattern that I loved so much.

He was watching some special on TV and I can't remember exactly what I was doing when he called me over to come and see. I remember seeing something that was an awful lot like that YouTube video. I remember loving the music, and feeling so happy when I heard it. I remember Dad being really impressed with it too; I think he really liked the originality and musicality. I was dancing and twirling around the living room, and I was just so happy to be alive. That is the place where I am taken, every time I hear that song.

It hurts so much to hear it now, because when I come back from That Place, I know that it will never be the same again, and that I can't really ever go back. That Place is gone, and I will never be that little girl again, with my Dad right beside me, listening to music that we love.

I keep hearing this song. I am haunted by this song.

The other night, the Lincoln commercial came on, and I told my husband about what I see/hear/feel/smell/taste when I hear that song, and he was amazed. Sometimes music and other things will bring back a few memories for him, but apparently I am the lucky one, or unlucky one, as is sometimes the case, who actually seems to get transported back in time for a few seconds, to relive things just as vividly as the day they happened. Does this happen to anyone else? I can't be unique in this.

Sometimes I wish I could just enjoy the song, without the flood of memories. I wish I hadn't worked so hard to remember. Be careful what you wish for.

I miss you so much Dad.

Earth below us,
drifting, falling, floating weightless
calling, calling home

---

I have linked this entry to the Home Game of therealljidol for topic #13 - Season 6. The prompt: Moments of Devastating Beauty. Home Game entries are here and current contestant entries are here for those who wish to read more.

We brought Kitty in to the vet around 9:30am, and she was euthanized at about 10:30. I think she knew... she wasn't upset at the vet's at all... she was very calm and did not put up any fuss. She cuddled with us right until the end, and it was over very quickly - she just laid her head down in my arms and went to sleep. I really think she knew.

When buzzy_mcbuzzer died, we went one whole month without a cat, and then three fell upon our house at once. Two of them were a mother-daughter pair - the mama named Tigger, and the baby named Ziggy. The third cat was a bit of an emergency case.

My friend Julie had had a premature baby, and her baby had had some pretty major breathing problems - as in the baby occasionally stopped breathing. She was told to get rid of all of the things in her house that could potentially be causing problems, and one of them was her cat, Kitty.

We had already agreed to take Tigger and Ziggy, when we found out about Kitty. Kitty was a silver tabby who'd had a pretty rough life. She'd grown up in Chilliwack, BC as a stray, amid some pretty serious enemy kitties. Then Julie relocated and had chosen to adopt and bring Kitty with her. Now Julie was faced with a situation where she had approximately 24 hours to try to find the cat a home, or take her to the SPCA. Since the SPCA was brimming full of cats, and they were putting them down pretty much as soon as they got them, we figured what the hell... we'd give it a shot. The worst that could happen would be that Kitty wouldn't get along with Tigger and Ziggy, and we'd have to take her into the SPCA ourselves.

This is exactly what happened, except we couldn't bring ourselves to take her in - we'd fallen in love with her.

She was perfect for Alex - did not react badly under any situation. Had claws but did not scratch. Great temperament. The only unfortunate thing was that she did NOT get along with the other cats. Oh we followed every book we could find, on how to integrate the two families, but it just did not work. In the end, she became the upstairs cat and claimed the entire top floor of our house, while the other two were the main floor/basement cats. The baby gate actually proved to be an effective barrier, despite it could be jumped by all the cats if they had really wanted. Yet they accepted this physical boundary as their territory line. When they felt feisty they would swipe at each other through the gate, but really there weren't many problems after we put up the baby gate.

Having Kitty upstairs full-time meant sacrificing a bedroom, which was an easy decision at the time, since one of the bedrooms was being used as an office. Since Alex was a very active child, and since the rest of the top floor of our house was fairly compact, Kitty's food, water, and litter box had to be kept out of site. The office wasn't perfect since it was carpeted, but it was the best option we had, so that's where it went. This was a pretty happy situation for everyone, especially the cats. It meant more vacuuming for us, but all in all, it was very workable. Probably being required to vacuum more often was a good thing, since it meant the rest of the house got cleaned more regularly than we probably would have otherwise been inclined.

Sometime over the last few years, we found out Kitty had some pretty serious health problems. She had a hyperthyroid, which made her lose tons of weight. She was put on this medication for the rest of her life, which is this salve that is absorbed through her skin - we put it on the back of her ear. She was skinny skinny skinny, but once she got on the meds, she started to plump back up. Then she started to lose weight again. When we had her checked out, it seems the meds were within therapeutic ranges, so it meant the problem was something else. They determined she also had high blood pressure, but that was actually helping to keep her kidneys perfused... ironically her high blood pressure was helping her...part of her anyway. We gave her some medication for that, but since we couldn't really tell if it was actually helping or not, we elected to discontinue that particular med. Around that time we started to run low on cash for vet bills/cat meds.

We made a decision, at that time, that we would not do things the same way as we did them with buzzy_mcbuzzer. Buzzer had been our baby girl, and we had sunk a fortune into trying to find a way to help bring her back to health. Ultimately, there was nothing we could do. Also, in trying to prolong her life, I'm afraid we went a little bit too far, and only prolonged her suffering.

It's difficult to know that line... it's one of those things where you don't know it's there until you've crossed it. For Kitty, we decided that we weren't going to make any heroic efforts, since she was already a senior cat and had a mysterious undiagnosed illness, in addition to a serious illness that was already diagnosed. We would keep her happy and comfortable, and as soon as she started showing any signs of actual distress, we would have her put her down. It would be easier on her, easier on us, and we would probably all be happier knowing where our limits are. Kitty has been steadily declining over the past couple of years.

When I got pregnant with Stephen, we weren't sure what we would do exactly, in terms of living space. What we decided, was that Stephen would stay with us in our room, and we wouldn't even bother thinking about finishing the room that would eventually become his, until Kitty was gone. At the time that we made that plan, we did not anticipate Kitty lasting much longer - she was so thin. It has been almost a year since we could no longer comfortably sleep with three to a bed. Since both Stephen and I are very light sleepers, and Alex and Jason could sleep through an air raid, it made sense for me to start sleeping with Alex in her room, and Jason to continue sleeping with Stephen in our room. We all get more sleep this way. This has been our sleeping arrangement for over a year. I have to admit that I look forward to the day when I can again sleep with my husband.

Sometime in the last year or two, Kitty started this annoying habit of yowling. She did this especially right outside the bedroom doors just after the kids got to bed. It took us a while to figure out that she was partially deaf.

If you would have asked us in the second half of 2009, we both would have told you that we didn't expect Kitty to make it to Christmas - there was just nothing left. Then, in the month before Christmas, there was a big turn around. Kitty seemed to start improving. She was in a better mood, she was more loving, she was eating, her coat seemed better. She was still thin, but she didn't seem to be getting thinner or weaker. We figured maybe it was a remission. She cuddled with Alex every night - they even developed this little bond. She and Stephen were particularly close, although recently she's been quite attached to Alex. Up until tonight, Kitty seemed to be stable and happy.

Tonight, she is not. Tonight, she is trying to urinate everywhere she can, and only a few dribbles are coming out. This is the Sign that she is in distress. There is some kind of problem. We don't know what it is, and it could be minor, but ultimately, we can't afford to explore the option. We made this decision years ago, that when it came to this point, this would be it. We are spending our last night with Kitty, feeding her her favourite food, giving her lots of pets, and giving her the downstairs kitties' treats (it always made her feel better).

I never really thought this day would come. I am so sad for the kids, so sad for Kitty, and so sad for me.

I am heartbroken.

"I woke up this morning and my pecker was orange. Then I remembered I had a REALLY good dream after I ate cheezies.... :)"

That has to be one of the funniest facebook status msgs I've ever read.

Tonight, while we were sleeping, there was a power failure. This meant that our fire alarm, which is wired into the house's electrical system, issued a few loud, angry beeps, and I awoke with my adrenaline racing. I checked the digital clocks that were plugged into the wall, and sure enough, they were flashing, indicating a power failure. It occurred to me that I would have to call "Time" to reset them all the next day.

Then I remembered my father telling me this story:

He and my uncle, were living in Saskatoon and presumably going to University, although maybe my uncle had finished at that point. My uncle was working at the telephone company, which had recently acquired this new "Time" telephone number and feature. One day, while my uncle was at work and my father was at home, Dad decided to check it out. He thought it was really cool, and proceeded to listen to it for the next eight hours - while he was watching TV, listening to the radio, doing other stuff. He was just amazed.

Meanwhile, back at the phone company, there was a problem. I'm not quite sure on the details, but I seem to recall my father telling me that apparently, because of the way the phone number was set up, or maybe it was the whole system, my father's call was blocking things, or preventing other calls from going through, through-out the entire city. The company started to look into the problem, and it was to my uncle's embarrassment that the problem was located at his house. He raced home and exploded into the place asking my father what in hell he was doing to the phone. My father, blissfully unaware of the problems he had caused, responded something like, "Oh hey! Did you know there was a number you could call to listen to the Time? This thing is great! I've been listening all day!"

"Give me that!"

I'm sure there were more words than that spoken, but that's all I can remember about the story.

Now my uncle is gone, and my dad is gone. No one will ever remember the details of that story.

Every once in a while, something rather ordinary happens, and a memory of my father will come to me, along with one of his stories. It occurred to me lately, that if I don't write them down, they will be lost forever.

We had the most lovely NYE.

We decided that we would really enjoy a child-friendly NYE party at our house - eliminating the need to drive anywhere or deal with our own sleepy children away from home.

We invited several families, but only two attended.

This meant there was one little boy who was two years older than Alex, a boy and a girl a few months older than Alex, and a little girl who was only a few months older than Stephen. Six kids in total. It seemed to be a good mix.

The kids had so much fun. Stephen stayed up until 10pm, then he crashed in his bed. Alex turned into a little terror. I'm still not sure what possessed her to pour water on the television, but when that happened, she went straight to bed. It was just before midnight. The other kids fell asleep shortly after midnight. We adults played Settlers of Catan until 2am. A good time was had by all (I think!), but it's definitely not something I could do very often.

The one family stayed over, and we had a lovely breakfast New Year's day. The children all played so hard again, that Stephen fell asleep almost instantly for his nap, and Alex also ended up taking a nap. In the evening we went to my mother's house for her traditional New Year's dinner, although with a bit of a twist. Normally she orders Chinese food for the dinner, but this year, because my Grandmother, Aunt and Uncle were present, she went all out and made homemade meatballs.

Tonight we had my mother and my grandmother over for dinner. I had worked hard to finish an album for my grandmother, and it turned out to be the perfect present. Apparently she had been complaining the last few days, that she didn't have any pictures. Gotta love it when you give the Perfect Gift!

We had a lovely time, and so far, 2010 has started out great! The only crappy thing about 2010 so far, is it feels like I might have the beginnings of a cold. Nothing like going back to work after a vacation, sick.

Here's to hoping that I fight it off!

This week, Jason and I are not working - the University shuts down over the holidays. Yay! While we could take advantage of this situation to spend more time with the kids, the fact is that our house is in DIRE need of cleaning/straightening, and frankly, we are in dire need of some alone time.

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday - the kidlets are in daycare, and we, the parents, are not at work. YAHOO!

Ok, so Tuesday - highly productive with Jason's help. All of Stephen's too-small clothes have been boxed up. The change table has been removed. His new-to-him dresser is now in his soon-to-be-his* room. The pile of crap that was 1.5 feet high that was located on my sewing machine has now been removed and relocated to garbage/filing/storage as appropriate. The 1 foot pile of crap on my desk has been completely cleared. I have purged. I have sorted. I have cleaned. I am having a major allergy reaction from all the dust, but I don't care, because IT FEELS SO GOOD TO RECLAIM MY HOUSE! MUAHAHAHAHA!

Still to be done: Creative Memories stuff, closets, box Alex's clothes, filing, basement, garage.

*Currently, the cat's food, litter, and the computer room are occupying Stephen's room. This is because the upstairs cat won't integrate with the downstairs cats. Until she dies, Stephen's room is not fit for him to sleep in, and thus will remain a computer room.

First of all, it was a great Christmas. It was just that it was a bit of a gong show.

The kids had a fantastic time opening their presents, and they got some pretty good loot. As did I :)

I think the thing that happened that snapped me out of my grinch-like state (previously posted), was when we woke up and looked into our stockings. The kids were thrilled with everything they got. Jason was pleased to see stuff in his stocking, and happy with what he got. My stocking was empty. Santa had apparently forgotten my stocking. I was feeling sorry for myself when my daughter noticed that my stocking was empty.

My three-year-old daughter, Alex, asked, "Oh no, Santa forgot about mommy?" And then she shocked us all. She went behind the toy chest, took the orange out of her stocking, and put it in mine. Then she brought it over to me and said in this excited and dramatic voice, "Look mom! Look what Santa brought you!" I have never been so proud of that little girl. In one minute, she really reminded me what the spirit of Christmas was all about. I think I started crying right then and there.

The rest of the day was spent playing with toys, and trying to keep rested so we could go to my mom's house for dinner. Stephen single-handedly undecorated the tree, periodically finding one of us and handing us a Christmas ball, saying, "Here you go." I spent the afternoon showing Alex how to play with Lite-Bright, and generally spending a lot of one on one time with her. As we were getting ready to go to my mom's, I left the kids alone playing for maybe 10 minutes. That was long enough. "It's awfully quiet down there," Jason muttered, and he went to check on them.

Alex had taken her toddler chair, put it up against the fridge, balanced on the back of the chair, opened the freezer door, and used that as leverage to pull herself up to standing on top of the fridge. This allowed her access to the candy cupboard - the one it takes me a step-ladder to reach. There she had pulled down all kinds of goodies.

Now she's done this before, and she's had many warnings that she was not to do it again. If she did do it again, then we would take whatever candy she had found away from her, and we would throw it in the garbage. So it wasn't a complete surprise that she'd done this. What was a surprise, was that this time, in addition to her usual package of candy, she also took out our container of chocolate covered coffee beans. There had been about 15-20 left. They were gone.

We went to my mom's because we were already late, but when I got there, I called poison control, just in case. I usually start feeling the effects after about 6 beans - she had 15-20. I didn't think she was in a huge amount of danger, but better to be safe than sorry.

After monitoring her behaviour for several hours (after some advice and a call-back from poison control), we determined that in fact, she probably hadn't eaten ANY of the coffee beans - but that she'd probably just hidden them somewhere to be eaten for a snack at a later date.

Which means we had to find them. We couldn't. We can only assume she ate them and they did not affect her (or maybe that was one of the nights when she was acting all crazy and wouldn't fall asleep? Unfortunately that's just normal for us, so there's no easy way to tell).

So yeah, it was quite the Christmas. Good times were had by all!

How was yours?

I'm having a bit of a grinchy day.

Let's hope it passes before Christmas morning. I'd post about it, but I'd rather not relive it at this point.

I think I will feel better once I get my house cleaned up for the festivities tomorrow. Go go gadget cleaning crew!

Merry Christmas to all you out there!

So what are you doing this holiday season?

I understand Hanukkah began this weekend, so I hope those of my friends who celebrate, are having a good one!

Baba's funeral was Saturday, with prayers Friday night. She was my adopted grandma - that was what we called it. She lived next door to us, and she was my nanny and my babysitter for as long as I needed one. She practically raised me. My father's parents died when I was very young, and almost as soon as my parents had moved next door, Baba adopted my family as her own. Her sons called my father their other brother. I know all of her grandchildren - we were all family, and very close in age.

Baba was Ukrainian Orthodox, and it was wonderful to be exposed to her culture through-out my life. Every year she'd have a big, traditional, Ukrainian Christmas feast. We were always invited. The food was always amazing.

I was asked to be a Cross Bearer, and Jason a pallbearer at the funeral. We were so honoured. They also mentioned my sister and I in the obituary as "special neighbours" which was also very touching. What was unfortunate, was my lack of knowledge about Ukrainian Orthodox ceremonies.

The issue really was the prayer service. First of all, I have been to many prayer services/funerals. The prayer services I have attended, have always been an informal event, with a little bit of praying, and a lot of visiting and comforting. So when it looked like Jason and I were going to be a bit late for the Prayers, I wasn't too concerned. Well, with a Ukrainian Orthodox service, the Prayer Service is sort of Part I of the funeral. It's a pretty formal event. Jason and I wished we'd known that, before we had gotten dressed that day. He was in a T-shirt and khaki pants. I was wearing dark jeans and a sweater. Everyone else was wearing a black suit. We also wished we'd managed to show up on time - we were about 5 minutes late. Aside from being mortified, it went well, and was great to see the family.

What was interesting about the service (both prayer and funeral), was that it was conducted almost entirely in chant. Very different from what I'm used to. What was helpful though, were these little booklets they had on the chairs, which allowed you to follow the entire service. One side of the page was Ukrainian and the other side English. Very helpful indeed, considering I don't speak Ukrainian. There were a lot of similar things said, compared to a Catholic ceremony - it was just presented differently. I was a little bit surprised to see notations in the little booklet, about which tone of chant to use. Tone #6 for this prayer, and Tone #8 for that one. I could see how if you had some really good chanters (would they be chanters or choir members?), it would sound very lovely and hypnotic. I have to admit though, I did find myself craving some actual melody.

The funeral went well on Saturday morning. We visited with family most of the rest of the day, and then went out for supper that night. Sunday morning, my mother opened her house to the family, and everyone gathered there to visit. It was so nice to have everyone there together - I hadn't seen that since I was about 10. Baba would have loved it that her whole family was there. I was a little bit sad that we hadn't managed to all get together prior to her death, but she certainly would appreciate knowing that we all were together on her funeral weekend.

I miss her so much.

It feels like my family keeps shrinking.

My Baba died a few hours after I posted my last post.

She got gradually weaker, had two seizures, and died.

They think the seizures are when the blood clot got to that part of the brain.

She was with family when it happened, and I'm so relieved she didn't die alone. That is something I feel so strongly about - I don't think anyone should ever die alone.

At least she is not suffering anymore.

I miss her so much.

I haven't posted in a while - there's been a lot going on.

Most significantly, my Baba collapsed last week in her home. When they took her in and had her assessed, she's got end-stage cancer and it's already in her liver. At that point we knew she had weeks.

I saw her last night, and we talked a little bit... they had her in the surgery ward since there was no beds available in palliative care.

Last night after I left, a bed opened and she moved into palliative care. Then she had a stroke.

I had to go into the palliative care unit again today, for the first time since dad died. It was hard to walk in, but it was ok once I got in there.

Her pulse is really weak, and she looks close to the end. I give it two days tops, and there's a good chance she'll go tonight.

She's ready to go. She's been wanting to go for a long time now.

I'm finding myself constantly making comparisons to what's happening to her, and what happened with my dad, and I'm reliving his death all over again.

It's not the same this time, but it still really really hurts.

Some of you may remember this post, about how my daughter won't poop in the potty, and her excuse is because Danika poops in her panties.

So today I've been sick. Quite sick. Frequent trips to the toilet, sick. During one of those trips, I didn't quite make it in time. Guess who was there to witness that mishap?

"Mommy, oh no! You pooped in your panties!"

"Daddy, Mommy poops in her panties."

I want to cry. On so many levels.

Also, I'm behind in lj reading (due to illness). Not sure when I'll get caught up.

I am going to be going on a scrapbooking retreat this weekend - 3 days of non-stop scrapbooking (except for the odd massage and nature walk).

This is good, because it will be dedicated time during which I can work on my kids' baby albums, and other albums I've started, yet not finished. This is bad, because I haven't printed any pictures in oh, approximately 3 years, and in that 3 years, I've accumulated approximately 8,000 pictures. Give or take a few thousand.

I took today and tomorrow off work, so I could specifically dedicate my time to sorting through my digital photos, selecting those I wish to print, getting them in to get printed, and then packing up all the supplies I'll need.

I also got the kids vaccinated today - that makes one fully vaccinated household.

Between the vac time, and the procrastinating time, I AM SO FREAKING BEHIND!

I'm started to get stressed about going on a retreat! This is not good!

I NEED to get this done... I NEED to get organized!

Darn it I wish this was something someone could help me with!

She is totally aware she is doing it. She just plain out does not want to poop in the potty.

Recently, I asked her why she pooped in her panties. Her response:
"Danika poops in her panties."

"Just because Danika poops in her panties doesn't make it ok sweetheart. We don't poop in our panties. We only poop in the potty."

"But Danika poops in her panties."

"That's not good sweetie, that wasn't a good thing Danika did."

"But Danika's a good girl."

"Yes she is sweetheart, but it's not good to poop in your panties. We only poop in the potty."

"But Danika poops in her panties."

"Mommy doesn't poop in her panties. Mommy poops in the potty. All the school kids poop in the potty. The big girls poop in the potty. We only poop in the potty, not in our panties.

"BUT DANIKA POOPS IN HER PANTIES!"

I'm at a bit of a loss on where to go with this now. Also, I want to strangle Danika.

Please help me fix this sentence... I'm having issues with the possessive:

"Subjects will be recruited through the Principal Investigator's and Sub-Investigators’ regular practice or patient pool."

There is one PI and multiple Sub-I's.

That doesn't sound right - like there are too many 's. Is that right?

Also, in the event that there was only one Sub-I, I think I would want "Sub-Investigator's", but please correct me if I am wrong.

I'm craving sushi. At 12:30am.

What can I eat that might take away a sushi craving at this time of night?

X-posted to parenting101

http://community.livejournal.com/parenting101/5053599.html

( Parenting stuff - cut for those not interested )

What is your personal greatest challenge with parenting, or what do you think would be your greatest challenge, if you had kids?

For me, I find that coming up with relevant and appropriate consequences for inappropriate behaviour, is one of the hardest things about parenting. It's the thing with which I most struggle. That and patience.

In the weeks leading up to the anniversary of my dad's death, I started to have a lot of memories of what was happening a year ago. I started remembering really specific details of things that are probably best forgotten. We had planned on spending that day, and entire weekend, at the lake - my dad's favourite place. And mine. But Jason had some industry work that needed to be done at work. So I was left with a day off all alone, on the actual anniversary day. I thought about it for five minutes and just went to work. Fuck having a day off. I can't imagine a worse thing for me than to spend that entire day alone with no specific plans. Good decision to go to work.

We ended up leaving for the lake after work, and it was ok. Things got immediately better once I was there. Even though it was his place, and the place is filled with memories of him, they're good memories, and it's a happy peaceful place. It didn't hurt to be there, and in fact it helped. We had the most beautiful weather we've seen all summer, and it was absolutely fabulous with hardly anyone up there. We had the entire beach to ourselves for a while... it was a very private weekend. I'll post about the fact that our cabin was broken into, in another post. Suffice it to say that it didn't ruin my weekend. I hope I can spend every anniversary up there.

My mother and my sister had a pretty rough time of it I think. In the weeks leading up to the anniversary, they started having dreams of his last hours. They also started to randomly see him lying in bed. Both of them are living alone. Both of them were also working the day of the anniversary. I am really grateful for having my kids and husband to help distract me in this past year. It's really made things bearable, and it's made the grief less sharp.

I still haven't been able to go back and visit his grave. I really need to do that one of these days...

I am really glad this year is over.