The Year of Doom and Gloom

The Year of Doom and Gloom

The year of 2007-2008 had been an endless summer of crystal water, sugar sand beaches fun and frolic. And the icing on the cake had been returning home to a bank account brimming with untouched pension cheques. Oh happy day! But it was all too good to last. And the sun-drenched days of health, wealth and happiness were about to end as Aug. 2008 ushered in its year of costly repairs, financial disaster death and illness. You may decide to stop reading at this point. But, if you think you may be able to identify with any of the catastrophes that seemed to swirl about us this past year, read on. After all--misery loves company.

Our first mistake was “feeling flush with funds!” We had allowed our house and grounds to steadily deteriorate during the 7 years spent building the boat. But now we had the money needed to put things right--and so much needed to be done. First we hired a gardener who convinced us to create a proper driveway entrance complete with low stone wall, shrubs and foliage, tear up the existing perennial garden and plant a new one, and pull out 7 mature trees. $Ka-ching! While Vince was busy grinding up my lawn with the wheels of his tractor as he ripped up the trees, hacked them to pieces and hauled them away, I discovered wood rot in the window sills. A contractor was brought in to install a new bay window for the library and replace the 8’x4’ office window with 3 new casements. $Ka-ching! $Ka-ching! Then it was on to pool maintenance, a new solar blanket and winter cover. Wood had to be cut, split and stacked for the winter. a pine tree in front cut down and an elm in back removed.

By summers end we were fast running out of both money and energy when, to our dismay, we discovered that we were also running out of water. We turned on the taps and nothing came out! Vince purchased and installed a new pump--to no avail. The plumber we paid left baffled. The water “expert” we hired was convinced that blasting open our 75’ well would loosen sediment and solve all our problems. It didn’t. Finally, after exhausting day, sleepless nights and wracking his brain with worry, Vince checked the pipes leading from the cistern to the house. Yes!! A professional team of four were then brought in to dig a six foot deep trench through the lawn, replace the pipes and fix the problem. $Ka-ching! $Ka-ching! $Ka-ching! Foundation bushes were torn up in the process, enormous piles of dirt and rubble covered the grass and it rained. The property looked like it had been blasted by a bomb. And it took all of our remaining strength and money to put things back together again--new topsoil, new plants, new shrubs in the rain and muck. We were both wrecked.

After a well-deserved week of recovery visiting our daughter and her little family in Michigan we were rested and ready to return home. We left at 8:00 am on a quiet Sunday morning. For the first half hour we found ourselves following a maroon car taking the same route we had chosen through the pretty rural countryside. But at 8:30 we watched in disbelief as an oncoming car crossed the centre line, exploded into the car in front of us and we found ourselves seconds away from death. Vince immediately leapt from our car to give help and comfort to one of the drivers. I called 911 and raced up to the other car. The innocent woman in the maroon car was trapped in the twisted wreckage, and there was nothing I could do but assure her that help was on the way as I watched her die. After giving a statement to the police, we drove the remaining 6 hours home in silence--saddened, sobered and shocked.

During the next few weeks this incident seemed to play over and over again in my mind. And then we learned of the untimely deaths of two colleagues and cancer returned to a neighbour who had been a good friend to me for more than thirty years. It was all too morose and, as the chilly winds of autumn began blowing once more we looked forward to leaving the sadness and cold behind and heading south to the sun and happy days.

We left for the boat Thanksgiving weekend. Our Canadian money now was all gone but we still had enough in American funds to see us through the winter--or so we thought. But after settling up our bill at the marina for boat storage and repairs that came in over the estimate we found ourselves alarmingly close to the line. We could still afford to go, but only “just”. The boat was scheduled to be launched in two days time. And then it would be too late to turn back. That was the weekend the bottom fell out of the worlds financial markets. We watched stupified as stocks crashed and the Canadian dollar plunged in value. And we knew, in such uncertain times, that we simply could not head off into unknown waters. Psychologically we were devastated. But we sucked it up and drove back home.

Looking back on how the year unfolded, we realize now that it was a blessing that we did. That autumn my friends cancer worsened and I was able to spend some quality time with her before she died. Over the winter Vince’s 97 year old father, Ernie, suffered an unbelievably horrible accident when he caught his foot in the door of a moving car and was dragged 200’ along the road. His pelvis was broken and he was confined to hospital for two months. Vince visited with him every day, travelling to Hamilton after breakfast and returning in the afternoon. He attended to Ernies personal needs, helped him to dress and exercise, kept him company and gave him the encouragement needed to fight for recovery.

A week after Ernies accident, his wife Dorothy fell breaking her hip which also necessitated several months of recooperation in hospitals. Now, in addition to caring for Ernie, we made frequent visits to Dorothy’s bedside and regular trips to their condo to handle financial affairs, deal with insurance, pay bills, water plants etc. And so the winter passed. When spring arrived we were checking out nursing homes and convalescent centres. We arranged for a room in St. Elizabeth’s Villa and personally cleaned, painted and furnished it in readiness for both Ernie and Dorothy upon their release.And then my own mother suffered a debilitating stroke. More visits to hospital and nursing homes--this time in Burlington. For six weeks we made regular visits to her bedside and worked with my siblings to move furnishings/belongings out of one retirement home and into another.

During all this time when we had to deal with the needs of both of our ailing parents, we had our OWN problems to contend with too. The marina in Maryland called to tell us that our boat had been broken into and vandalized. Subsequently several trips had to be made south to determine what damage had been sustained and to try to clean up the mess. More repairs needed to be done to our house. And as soon as good weather arrived Vince had to paint the entire structure, sand and stain wood trim, replace another window, prune a 200’ cedar hedge, cut, split and stack all the wood needed for the next winter and deal with a beaver dam that was threatening to flood out one of our neighbours homes.

My uncle died, another was diagnosed with Alzheimers, and my best friend--already suffering from diabetes,was found with traces of cancer after undergoing a thyroid operation. The final straw was discovering that my favourite cousin Amy--who had been my closest childhood friend--was suffering from leukemia. This couldn’t be happening! Not Amy. We had enjoyed lunch and a wonderful visit just a few months before, promising to get together again after the situation with Ernie and Dorothy settled down. But it hadn’t happened. When I finally called to set a date, her husband told me she was confined to a hospital isolation ward fighting leukemia. I wasn’t allowed to see her but we spoke on the phone and promised to get together at Christmas when Vince and I planned to return from the Bahamas for a family visit. I hadn’t realized how sick she really was. And two weeks later--the day before we had planned to head south, Amy died.

The next day, unbelievably, her mother--my marvellous aunt Clarissa--also passed away. Two funerals in one week. So much grief! And with it came memories of all the other recent untimely illnesses and deaths--all of Vinces four cousin in one family now gone and news of yet more colleagues and friend fighting cancer and disease.

It is now the end of August and we refuse to face yet another year of winter, doom and gloom. Our bags are packed, we’ve said our goodbyes, made sure both sets of parents are comfortable and being well cared for. And while WE are still able to, it’s time to “take the money and run”.

Epilogue

I wrote this diatribe exactly one month ago as a cathartic exercise intended to purge my soul of all the sorrow it was suffering. It was to be filed under “Personal Papers.” But instead it’s appearing on the Fortnight blog as an explanation of why I haven’t yet been able to write about our trip. For me it is still too soon to get excited about the places we’ve been and the things we’ve done. It all seems too trite in the context of the past year. And I am still thinking about Amy. They say that time heals all wounds. And, as we venture further south, hopefully the sun will banish the clouds and the world will look bright to me once again.