The year from hell

Changing seasons have finally brought about new hope for the future. The past year has been complete hell. I'd love to just forget about it, but I must keep it in my mind and learn from it. I must look back at the events and use them for strength and motivation to overcome what the future throws my way. The leaves changing are a metaphor to me - drop it and start over.

I will reflect back on the crappy memories with fondness and discourse at the same time. I overcame a shit storm, and for that I'm forever thankful. But why do shit storms have to happen at all?

There's a train of thought that those who cruise through live without ever encountering such events are living a dream, and eventually they will be caught unprepared, their dreams will quickly become nightmares. I like to believe this past year has simply prepared me for worse things, I just hope it doesn't happen again any time soon.

The year from hell began last September, and ended last week. A little over 13 months. I'm calling it over because I'm tired of it now, it can go back into the bottle it came out of. It's time to move forward.

Last week Kim finally landed a job. She's in the middle of two weeks of training, and so far she really enjoys it. It's not great money, (yet?) but it's enough to stop my worrying about where the next meal is coming from or how I will take care of my little one's birthday in a couple of weeks. She enjoys the job, and that's a good thing, on her first day I sat at work wondering how she was making out - wondering if she thought it was a huge disappointments, like so many false opportunities of late. I picked her up from her new office that night to see a beaming face and bright eyes. She didn't need to tell me anything. I knew. The year from hell was over.

Ironically, the year from start coincided with the start of this blog. My first post was October 25, 2008, about a month after Kim went back to school to finish her degree. A time of optimism and hope. After 16 years, she was going to finish school, and decide what to do with herself. She was in a crap job, and I was happy to see her get out of there. Actually, she asked to be reduced to part time to accommodate the classes, but they cut her so much it wasn't worth going in at all - so she quit. She devoted her time to school and excelled, and now has the degree. A good start.

Going back through my posts I found that November 14 was the start of it. To quote myself - "The shitty economy has hit our little world". Kim is in school, I'm the only income, my hours had been cut, and the economy tanked.

On November 22 I posted that I had entered the contest to run the Olympic torch. Update - I lost, my boss won. Another reason I hate him.

On December 11 Kim finished school. I wrote that I was eager to see her in cap and gown. If I'd only known then.

I spent Christmas day 2008 sick and recovering from oral surgery.

On January 15 the cable company accidentally shut us off for a week. The kids went nuts. If they'd only known. We still don't have it now.

On February 22 I did something about dreams and regrets. More foreshadowing.

On March 16 the back door jams fell apart, we didn't have the cash to fix it, so we invented the redneck door lock. It's still there.

On March 24 I wrote about how much fun it was dealing with Bell and our new office data connections. Ironically enough, that's the field Kim is now training for.

On April 4 I wrote about the tanking economy again, bad job stats, high unemployment, etc. We had become a statistic. Kim still had no job prospect. She continued school, but soon realized the courses she was taking had no bearing on her degree, so that stopped. We did a consolidation loan as we saw the writing on the wall.

On April 25 the City of Windsor went on strike. Well, most of it anyway, the worst of it would last 101 days, bring out the best and worst in people, and it's still causing ripples today. There were other things too, you'll have to read.

On May 27 the garbage strike got ugly.

On July 5, we did something about it.

On July 25, I lost my father. There was no blog, only pain. I posted on August 11 about renewal. Since then, we still haven't finished dealing with the fallout of his death. He lived with us, so his stuff is here. His life is here. Constant reminders of what we've lost. I think it's too soon to deal with the final issues, at least for me it is. We started, but with everything else going on, it's really difficult. I really miss him. I really miss the sounds of the house when he was in it. Everything now is too quiet and surreal.

August 18 brought the duldrums. Moods were changing for the worse.

August 21, it got worse yet.

A friend and I spent almost a year planning a reunion. On August 30, I wrote about how it didn't quite work out. A year of expectation and planning down the tubes.

September 5 - changing traditions, by force.

September also saw us meeting with a bankruptsy trustee for an info session. Kim has been out of work for a year at this point. We're hanging on, with some help. Dad passing also reduced our income - he paid us rent. We started draconian cost cutting, and the kids started getting used to things being 'different'. Luckily, we never followed through with the bankruptsy, but it was close. We kept putting it off in the hopes that it turned around. Also at this point, my brother also lost his job. Things sucked all round.

As a final kick in the ass, and a reminder about how bad things were getting, our neighbours across the street had their house seized by the sheriff. Evicted. It's a legal battle now, but imagine coming home from work to find your locks changed and you've been given 12 hours to clear out. Ick.

On October 19 Kim graduated from University. In our friend's living room. Thank God for friends.

November 11 was the first Remembrance Day without dad. Kim posted a wonderful tribute to him, but I chose a different path. I just couldn't write about him, it's still too soon.

So there you have it. In the grand scheme of things, we didn't lose our house, our car, our health, our future, if anything, we gained. We came back down to earth and realized that there is more to life than what we take for granted everyday. I have been humbled by the events of the past year, and I have lowered my expectations. I know take great pride in what we have, we survived a shitty year and want to strive to make it better from this point forward. There is so much more that I didn't write about, but no need for more details. To those who's lives around us have also been impacted by major events that I have not included here, this is strictly based on my posts over the past year. It certainly doesn't downplay the importance you play in our lives.

Next year will bring renewed life on our little world. These posts will be more positive and my expectations of the future have only one direction to go - up. Thank you to my friends and family who have helped us get through this tumultuous time in our lives.

The year from hell is over.

Let the light shine anew.

Cheers.

The guns fell silent

"Time check", the one said to his buddy.

"10 past, it's going to be a long one", came the reply.

The two men huddled in the trench, covered in filth. The sky was overcast and grey, the sun tried to peek through, hints of brightness eminating from between thick clouds. In the trench, hundreds of men sat waiting. All just as anxious. They

just waited.

A shell landed around the corner of of the angled trench knocking every one of them down. The sound was incredible, their ears ringing long after the initial explosion. Cries of help could be heard, men scrambled to get to the wounded. The dead could not be helped. A direct hit on the trench that had been their home. All that they knew for the past year. The massive crater it left was awe inspiring and terrifying. But they were used to it. Six dead came the count, at least they think six, two men not accounted for. They probably took the brunt of it. Only their names remain. The wounded were carried out on stretchers, like so many before them.

"Poor bastards almost made it", the one said calmly.

"Time now?"

"28 minutes. Not long now, we're almost there".

Rifle and machine gun fire could be heard over the berm. Out there, in no-man's land, the enemy was firing blindly into the morning mist. Hoping to catch anyone stupid enough to poke up their heads. Sometimes it worked. Our boys fired back.

Sticking their Enfields up over the top and firing blind. Futile yes, but at least it was something. It was too late to go over the top today. Too late now. Too many times had they done that, too many times had they gone through the wire in a vain attempt at some sort of courageous - or foolhardy, attempt at winning the war. Every time they knew the risk, and every time men died. Their bodies left there for the vultures, which made for easy target practice. They couldn't stand seeing them going at their buddies, and they couldn't get to their buddies. The dead were the lucky ones. The wounded sometimes died there because the medics were too easy to pick off. They had to wait til night fell to get the wounded back, in many cases the wait was fatal.

A rat scurried across the one man's boot.

"12 minutes". He had to yell out the time. The noise was unbearable. Shells were still landing near the wire, hopefully, none would land in the trench again today.

The other one chased the rat away with his knife, trying to get it, but it was too quick. He leaned back against the mud wall again and waited. Looking up, he saw the sun, trying to break through, it was almost there, but it was still obscured by clouds and smoke. It was hard to tell where the smoke ended and the clouds began.

Down the trench men were yelling. Could be orders, could be wounded, he didn't know. The voices were muffled over the noise of the battle. He also heard yelling in german; that's how close they were. He could here the other trench, across the deadly wasteland, not 100 yards away. When there was a lull in the shelling, he could hear

them. Intelligence men who spoke german were constantly up and down the trench listening, and writing things down.

"Now?, came an eager voice.

"Four minutes, as long as this watch is working right, it's in pretty rough shape".

They waited. Not talking to each other, they just sat there, looking around at their trench, their home. They held their rifles close and kept up on the sidewall so as not to slide into the mud. It rained the previous day and mud was everywhere. It was over the duck boards that were supposed to keep them dry. It didn't. Their boots were wet and they risked trenchfoot. One of the men had it really bad a few months back, but at least he got to go behind the lines for a few days, to the aid station and have a hot tea. Then when his feet got better he was thrown back into the fray.

"One minute!", the one yelled. He had to keep the time, the other one lost his watch. More gunfire, it sounded like it was getting worse. Machine guns opened up - it was one long continuous burst from a hundred guns - all pointed at them. Thank God for the trench. Another artillery shell exploded nearby. They couldn't tell if it was inside or on the wire - it was too far away. The sun finally managed to break through the smoke.

Then silence.

The shells stopped falling. The guns stopped. It was 11am. The guns fell silent.

The war was over. The armistice agreed upon by the warring nations across Europe started just as the sun opened the skies over Cambrai, Vimy, Ypres, Passchendaele, and a hundred other places in France. Both here and on the Eastern Front, in the air and at sea, in Turkey and in the middle east, the guns stopped.

The two men looked at each other and tried to smile. They tried to believe, but they couldn't. Not yet. It could have easily been broken at any time. One gunner in either trench could have fired off a shot and started it all over again. One man among hundreds of thousands could have negated the cease fire.

But nobody did.

The guns remained silent.

Nobody moved. Nobody yelled victorious, nobody stood up, nobody believed it. For many minutes there was total silence. No guns, no rain, no birds, no airplanes, no trucks, horses, ammo carts, officers yelling orders, nothing. total silence. Everyone in the trench took it in like a warm spring day. They filled themselves with the silence

and let it linger in their minds - something not heard in Europe for almost 5 years - nothing.

A bird overhead broke the silence. A soft call of a dove overhead. Over the devastated, shell blasted hell-hole of no-man's land. It's song audible to both trenches. Then it flew off, it's song only a whisper on the wind.

Slowly, men began to move, some shuffling along the wet duck boards, some, more brave, venturing a look up and over the sandbags. The first the men saw do this stuck his head for the briefest of looks and then popped back down. He didn't get shot.

The one man looked at the other, his buddy in this aweful place for the past 6 months. Then he stood up, and climbed the wall. He went over the top. He stood there on the top of the trench, facing no man's land and looked out. He didn't get shot. He half expected it, but it never came. He gently laid his Enfield down against a sandbag, and stood there looking across.

In the trench across the hell hole, another man stood up and did the same thing. A spiked helmet. Both men stood upon their trenches and stared at each other. After several minutes, the man in the Canadian uniform took the first step. Without a rifle, and to the taunting calls of his own mates, he stepped out across the shell pitted field. He stepped over what was left of the barbed wire, and began crossing the rift. The german did the same.

In both trenches heads popped up to see the sight. In both trenches men stared in wonder - more to see who would die first, but in wonder of the sight of two enemies crossing toward each other unarmed. The german had also dropped his Mauser.

After 10 minutes they stood staring at each other - face to face. The Canadian took off his helmet, dropped it on the ground and slowly raised a hand to the german. The german, looked at the outstretched hand, and responded in kind. They stood there, on top of a berm created by a howitzer shell and shook hands. No words were spoken. No words were necessary. The sun creeped out just a little more, and the dove came back. Both men looked up at the sight, still holding onto the handshake as if now their life depended on this on little act of brotherhood. Their eyes came back to each other and a mutual identification fell across them both. They knew it was over. The war to end all wars was over.

Out of both trenches, slowly at first, then in waves, men came up. Thousands of them. Dropping helmets and rifles, they slowly clambered out of their pits of mud, death and despair, and began mingling in the man-made disaster between their trenches. This hell on earth, where so many had died, was now alive with men, all victims of their government's call to arms. They were now men who had made it.

The moment lingered for what seemed like hours, then men slowly began to recede into their own trenches again. Officers began to call orders again, the noise slowly came back. All the noises associated with a war zone. Trucks, horses, men calling, everything, everything but the guns.

The Canadian soldier and the german soldier just stood there in the middle. They didn't move. They stared at each other. The german man, in very broken english finally uttered a few words.

"Peace, friend, peace now". Then he turned and walked away.

Here at Passchendaele, this man had witnessed the end of the war. It was 11am, the 11th day of November, 1918.

The war was over, the remembering had just begun.

At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them.

Viral Video Day

I don't feel like writing today, so instead I give you this...

This IS the funniest piece of film EVER.

Enjoy.

Graduation Day

My wife had her convocation ceremony yesterday. It wasn't in a hall with thousands of other university grads, it was at a friend's house, in her living room. And there was cake. She couldn't have hoped for any more than these friends did for her, they put her in robes and a mortor board, handed her roses and a diploma and walked her through to the sound of Land of Hope and Glory. Then there was cake. I am so proud of her.

Kim graduated university this year, with a student card that starts with 87. It took her 22 years to finish. She walked away years ago with only a few courses left, to work for a living and raise a family with me. She always talked about going back, but it was never in the cards, one thing after another came up, and we said, OK, next year. Then next year, then next year, and so on. Last year she finally did it. Being in a job she hated, she bit the bullet and called the U. I was so proud of her - she's a natural student, like a sponge she absorbs information and throws herself into whatever the professor is on about. She loves to learn. When she finished her required courses in the space of one semester, she signed up again, and kept going. This time with a history minor. That semester didn't quite work out, but at least she finished her major.

After all these years she can say with all honesty and privilege, I'm a University grad.

I'm very proud of her. Seeing her yesterday surrounded by family and friends who cared enough to throw her her 'own' ceremony, made me swell with pride. To those there yesterday, I know I didn't show it much, but trust me - it was there.

Now the real work begins. Now that she's a university grad, she has to decide what she wants to be when she grows up. But today it doesn't matter, because there was family, friends, and cake.

I love you Kim. And I'm proud of you.

It's apple picking time

Today was Fall in the apple orchard.

We packed up 3 families (or parts thereof) and headed off to Wagners. After the obligatory stop at Tim Hortons on the way, we arrived at the fall's best secret. Grabbing a couple of bags and a ride out on the tractor, the harvest awaited our brood. Between the 3 families, mine, my brother and his wife, and my sister and her daughter, we brought out enough bags for 60 pounds of apples.

As soon as the tractor departed we headed into the trees, literally. The best apples are always up top where they're harder to reach, so we scampered up, careful not to damage the trees. My daughter didn't even wait until the tractor was away - within minutes of stepping off the trailer she was climbing. They frown on us climbing the trees. Alot. Last year we got read the riot act. This year we were more careful.

About 10 minutes down the orchard I found a ladder and trodded back to the crowd, already firmly entrenched in a treetop. My brother, who I have not seen climb a tree since we were kids, got stuck heading for the best. He's a chef, he knows food. He knows what the best looks like and would accept nothing else. He quite welcomed the ladder. I of course, climbed the trees.

In about a half hour our bags were full. But we weren't done. There were more apples. We started loading up pockets and hoods. When those were full we looked for another solution. My son sacrificed his coat for the sake of the apples. We loaded his coat up and headed off to the 'taxi stand'. We would have kept going if we had more bags. When we got back to the shop we had to get another bag. When all was said and done we had over 70 pounds of apples. Those bags were overflowing and there were still apples in people's pockets.

The kids played on the tire swing, while we examined the other offerings of this place. They also have a wine store and bakery. After picking up some strudel for the neighbour we headed home with our haul. We'll be eating apples for months. Kim started with carmelized apple slices over french toast tonight for dinner. She will make homemade apple sauce and pies, apple betty and apple butter. Lots. I can see an apple cassarole in the future.

A nice day to spend with the family. With all the crap going on these days it was what we all needed. A day to remind us what's important.

Cheers.