We had dinner with my cousin and his family tonight.  On the way to the restaurant, my dad asked "How is C (my cousin) related to us?"  I told my dad that C is his nephew, the son of his youngest brother B.  "How is B doing now?  Is he still in Edmonton?"  I had to tell him again that his brother had passed away last year.  He paused as he grappled to understand.  He knew he forgotten.  He asked "What illness did he have?"  After I told him that it was cancer, he stopped asking questions and remained quiet for the rest of the trip.  My sister and I eventually made some small talk in the car.  It's not the first time he has forgotten family members (including me) and events.  He remembers some things but will forget others.  It used to be he would remember the old days.  But that doesn't seem to be the case anymore. 

As we were having dinner, he smiled and waved at my cousin's baby girl.  He was genuinely delighted to see my cousin's 2 young daughters.  He greeted the kids as if he was the proud grandparent.  He would occasionally wave at them, make faces and make them smile.  I wonder if he did that to me when I was a baby.  I watched as my cousin carefully pluck the lobster meat out for his daughter.  She giggled and smiled as she ate it.  I filled my dad's bowl with food as he couldn't reach the lazy susan.  My cousin and I were almost mirroring each others moves.  Except I watched him with a mixture of happiness and envy. 

I have to remind myself there is happiness and joy at all phases in the cycle of life.  It's easy and apparent at the beginning when you have a baby.  It's a lot deeper and perhaps  meaningful near the end with an elderly parent.

I'm in a tight black leather outfit with straps on my hands and legs.  My mouth is gagged, my eyes are blindfolded and I'm ready.  The whips, the wax and wailings.  Bring it on.  I don't care anymore.  My skin is red, the sweat makes the scars sting even more.  Red wax, white wax, blue wax... they all drip over me while I scream in pain.  Red, white and blue - appropriate since my parent company is an American company.  It's just another day at work.  Bound, defeated, savaged and muted... (what do they spell?).  It's another long day.  Tonight I sleep.  Tomorrow I pull on my leather outfit and start afresh. 

Ok it's not that bad.  It just feels that way.  I look for the little joys in life to balance things.  At the supermarket the other day, I passed by the baby food section.  I see a little baby boy squatting on the floor.  He is focused on the tiny bottles of baby food and carefully reaches for them with his right hand.  I pause to watch.  His mom hovers nearby watching him and trying to listen to the father yakking away.  I look back at the boy.  His right arm is still fully extended but he looks stumped.  I wonder if he is trying to figure out how to retrieve it without bringing down the whole display.  I smile and walk away.  When I leave the store I run into the mom and the baby again.  She's carrying the child. I nod and smile at her.  She smiles back proudly.  It's like watching an old fashioned silent movie. 

I wish I could take pictures of these little events of humanity.

I feel lost.  Not physically ... but in this life.  I see others with a strong sense of purpose.  They know their mission in life.  They know what they are passionate about.  They understand what it takes to attain their goals. Not me... GPS or a map won't help if you don't know where you want to go.  I remember one of my earliest results from career counseling in high school.  It was one of those computerize systems.  It suggested I had an interest in farming or being a priest.  I didn't even like mowing the lawn or watering the house plants.  My guidance counselor was a priest (I went to a Catholic high school).  He was disappointed when I told him I wasn't interested. 

Corporate life has made me jaded and disillusioned.  Elder care has saddled me with a mixture of guilt, satisfaction, fear and sadness.  You're a child and a parent at the same time.  Sooner or later elder care and corporate life will no longer be an issue.  So what is next? 

You know what crystallized this entry?  It's this lovely little video I saw on another blog.

So what do you folks think I should do?  I feel like a ship without a harbour.  A plane without an airport. 

Maybe I'll do what this guy did.  I'll print out some of my entries and sell them.  Would you buy them?  I'll even autograph them for you.

I had an odd dream the other day.  It shook me up for a couple of days.  I don't remember a lot of the details, just the general theme.  I dreamt that I only had 2 to 3 months to live.  But the doctor had a lot of trouble telling me the news.  I pretty well had to pry it out from him.  I walked out of the hospital in a daze.  I wanted to tell someone but everywhere I went - people were just going on with their lives. There was a steady stream of pedestrians all going about with their business.  People going to work, kids going to school and humanity just going about their business.  It was a beautiful summer day but no one seemed to notice.  People were so busy with their own affairs.  I kept looking for someone to talk to.  I wanted to tell someone that it wasn't business as usual for me anymore. 

But there wasn't anyone that I knew.  Everyone just kept walking on.  I felt helpless and ignored.  I was just a silent extra in this movie of life.  It was very unsettling and that feeling lingered with me for a couple of days. 

Perhaps this is how my dad feels when he sees me and my siblings going on with life.  I thought I was an emphatic person but maybe this is Someone's way of telling me to pay closer attention. 

The other weird thing is that I woke up with some red marks on my forehead.  It's almost as if someone scratched it with their fingernails.  I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror trying to figure out what it was.  To my surprise, the reflection of the red lines looked a lot like 14.  It was still there after I showered and it slowly faded away by lunch time. 

The past few weeks have been a tricky balance between trying to enjoy life and keeping an eye on dad.  The last couple of times we saw his doctor, the wait was over an hour.  One time we had 3 appointments in the same day.  I even went there a day early to get an extra hospital card so I could check him on his second appointment while he was still waiting for his first appointment (blood test).  As luck would have it, the physician didn't put in the requisition for his medicine.  I wasted 40 minutes trying to have him page and going through the usual hospital red tape.  It takes about an hour to two to prepare the medicine.  Because it's expensive, they always wait until the patient is physically in the hospital before they can prepare it.  So we waited a good hour before he got his medicine.  Since it is administered in an IV, there was another 30 minutes of waiting for the medicine to empty and for the IV lines to be flushed.  By this time, my dad was exhausted and grumpy.  We went on to see his doctor.  We waited another hour or so.  When we saw him we were told his blood test results were not ready.  I said it usually takes 2 hours and we've been here a lot longer so the results should be ready.  The doctor went to the computer and just shook his head.  We had to come back in another month. 

So last week we came back and waited over 2 hours past the appointment time before the doctor was free.  I asked once why the wait was so excruciatingly long.  I was told he is only available 1/2 day a week at this hospital.  So they just overlay appointments.  If my dad's appointment was at 1PM, there would be 4 or 5 people with the same time slot.  Each of the patients would go into another waiting room and wait for the doctor.  Some times the nurse would recognize us and would move us up.  But everyone else in the waiting room is also wary about that so she has to do it discreetly. 

My dad got a new prescription with some nasty side effects (loose bowels).  He missed Xmas dinner at his favorite restaurant and only nibbled at the take out food I got for him.  The next day my brother was hosting a dinner with the extended family and he missed that.  After a couple more days of not being able to eat, he got weak.  His doctor was only holidays and the message on his voicemail was to contact the operator who will then page the backup physician.  I did that but was told my dad's doctor was not away.  So I left a message on his voicemail.  When he didn't call back by the end of day, I simply told my sister to cut the prescription in half.  During this ordeal, my brother made daily trips to a restaurant to buy congee for him.  My sister made sure he drank more water and bananas.  He kept an eye on him at night when he went to the washroom.  The half dosage of his meds helped and he was able to start to eat more and kept his food in.  After persuading the hospital operator, I managed to get hold of my dad's other physician who told him to stop the meds for one day and call him back the next day.  My dad got better and was more alert so he resumed the meds but at half dosage. 

In the meantime, I managed to squeeze in some dinners with friends but there is always this guilty feeling that I should do more.  I don't know what the right level of balance is.  Guilt, even misplaced guilt can be corrosive and depressing. 

Forgive the rant (and any grammar / typos).   I wish our medical system (even though it has it good points) is more patient friendly. 

Peace and love for 2012. 

It's been a struggle trying to sort out dad's finances.  I'm not exactly very organized and neither is my dad.  His desk would always be covered with mounds of papers.  In the past few years, I've been paying his bills online.  There are some bills that he pays by cheques (or checks to my American readers) and they are mostly magazine subscriptions.  But I've noticed he  is also paying for a few things that he doesn't really need to (e.g. multiple payments to the same charity, useless CDs that he doesn't want, books that he didn't order...).  He does keep a cheque book (thank goodness).  But I've also found that he will pay a bill and then give me the statement afterwards and I pay it too.

So in my free time I'm trying to organize both our financials, carefully sorting them out and documenting everything.  This is painful, mind numbing and just stressful to an artsy fartsy guy like me. But I know once I get this done, things will be a lot better.  I've also asked him to tell me where he stores his important documents like his will.  I know it's in his room somewhere.... unless he decided to keep it in a safe place that I don't know about. 

While I was at his house a few weeks ago, I came across a note book with his handwriting.  He started to keep a journal for a few weeks and then stopped. One of his entries was about visiting my brother and sister in law.  There was a scribbling - "no kids" or something like that.  And then the line underneath was something like "same with Matt".  That one hit me hard.  I closed the notebook and shoved it back in the cabinet. 

It was the end of a jammed packed day at work.  I didn't even have lunch.  I could feel a cold coming.  When I got out of the subway station to wait for my bus, the platform was already packed.  The dark sky and the cold wind made me hungry for my bed.  I just wanted to skip dinner and go to sleep.  Fortunately the bus didn't take long this time.  I was one of the last to get on the bus and managed to find a pole to hang on to.  When we hit the first main street, about a dozen people got off and I found a seat beside a scruffy middle aged man with an equally well aged winter jacket.  Then I heard a voice from near the front.  It was a boy's voice, full of life and energy. His voice carried through the bus.

I rested my chin on my knapsack hoping my imagination would keep me distracted for the duration of my ride.  "What is that patch on your jacket?"  It was that boy again.  I couldn't see him.  The bus stopped and a couple more people got off.  I heard a woman's voice telling the young boy to grab an empty seat.  I saw an impish looking boy of about 8 years old squeezing through a couple of bodies into the seat.  "Are you in the army?"  He was talking to someone.  All I saw was an army green sleeve with a few patches and a double V stripe (corporal?).  She must have been participating at the Remembrance Day ceremonies earlier today.  Another bus stop and a couple more bodies squeezed through the exit.  Then the soldier's popped into view.  She was in her dress uniform rather than field uniform.  She was clearly amused with the young boy although I couldn't make out her answers.  A young lady beside the soldier smiled at their exchange.  Her answers must have impressed the boy.  He insisted the young soldier to take his seat instead and gently tugged her sleeve to sit down.  He got up and she sat down.  She was grinning and wasn't expecting this display of gallantry.  After another stop, a seat behind the soldier opened up.  The young boy looked up at the man near the seat and asked "Excuse me sir, would you like to sit down?"  The man politely declined.  The boy squeezed past him and another passenger and climbed into the seat.   

It was interesting watching the lack of shyness with this boy.  The man seating next to boy was engrossed in his Blackberry but not for long.  The boy asked him some questions about it and the man politely answered him.  He didn't stop talking with the soldier and the man.  At one point the man must have teased him about a some dried plant material on the boy's jacket. The boy plucked it out and stuck it on the man's jacket.  The man pulled it out, crumpled it and let it fall on the floor.  In a flash, the boy pluck out some more from his jacket and slapped it on the guy's sleeve.  I chuckled ... this kid has absolutely no fear.  When I was his age I wouldn't have even dared open my mouth.  If my mom saw me putting a burr or some dried leaves on a guys jacket, I would get a stern lecture.  Sure enough, a woman quickly stepped forward "Stop that!"  The man must have told the mom it was ok.  The mom's hard stare slowly pinned the boy on his seat. 

Another bus stop and the man got off.  The show ended.  It was a nice distraction and it was probably better than what my imagination could conjure up. I caught myself smiling when I finally got off the bus.  The wind blew but it didn't feel that cold.  I didn't want to go to bed anymore.  I just wanted that roast chicken breast I made yesterday. 

The weekend is here and I'm off to see Lang Lang tomorrow with J.  I just hope my cold will go away. 

May your inner child surface this weekend.

While I was traveling last week, I had some odd moments of "insight".  It's an odd feeling, almost as if someone was trying to tell me something.  On the flight to Ottawa, I was reading my book.  When I looked out the window, I noticed the clouds below had gradually parted.  I saw many shades of green, brown and yellow with some sprinkling of red.  Rivers, ponds and small lakes were scattered throughout.  I put down the book and marveled at the show. There were farms with their fields like patches on a quilt.  The fields were mostly squares and rectangles with fuzzy borders.  Many had jagged boundaries bordering rivers and trees.  I wanted to tell everyone on the plane to look out and enjoy the beauty.  Instead the subtle and demur nature show left me pondering - what am I doing here? 

That evening, I walked to Parliament Hill.  The dark sandstone buildings looked so nice as they basked in the setting sun.  There were still some tourists laughing while posing for pictures.  I looked around but I knew I had to get dinner and start preparing for my customer meeting the next day.  I didn't want to leave yet.   took one last, longing look at the sight before I went for dinner. It wasn't a satisfying dinner even though the food was ok.  There was just the feeling of emptiness.

There were also 2 taxi rides that week that caught my attention  As I left work early evening, I stood in the front door and waited for my cab.  A rain storm had just passed. The sun came out to play briefly before it set.  The air had this clean smell.  I found myself inhaling deeply as if the air was a drug.  It took awhile for the cab to show up but I didn't mind.  The clouds were chasing each other in the sky and slowly changing shapes.  A crow was flying back and forth between trees.  The cab eventually showed up.  As he pulled out of the lot, he stopped in the middle of the street and asked how I wanted to get back to the hotel.  I shrugged and told him to just pick the fastest route.  He took a route that I never took before.  We passed corn fields with their wonderful shades of green.  At first I thought he was heading in the wrong direction but I decided to just enjoy the scenery.  There were joggers running beside the fields.  I wanted to join them but I won't have lasted long.  Eventually the fields gave way to buildings and we were headed downtown. 

On my last day, another cab driver took a different route to the airport.  We drove slowly along a park by the Rideau Canal. It was a slow drive and I absolutely enjoyed the scenic drive.  I've never taken this route before.  It just seemed surreal. The stress of the trip slowly melted away. 

As I sit and write this entry, I'm under a fair bit of pressure from work.  I'm working every night lately.  It's an empty feeling.  It's unsettling when you hear your mgm't team isn't happy with you.  But there are still more signs.  At lunch time, I chance across an article, "If you had a week to live what would you do?". And tonight, Coldplay was playing a free concert here in the city.  I watched the simulcast on the internet and tried to do some work.  I smiled when I recognized the intro to Fix You.  Instead Chris Martin sings a few lines from Amy Winehouse's Rehab before launching in to Fix You. I thought of my first Xanga friend Kelvin.  These were 2 of his favorite musicians although Madonna was always his number 1 favorite.  The memories made me smile. I hope he's happy and his soul is in peace. 

"When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse"

Yes, I think I need lots of fixing.

Sometimes I wish I was far away from my own reality.  If only the ESC key on my laptop meant I could escape the bonds that are holding me back.  The bonds I realize are self imposed.  They have been woven and welded over many years.  I'd like to believe I can have more friends.  I'd like to believe that maybe one day I can still be a father but I've buried that dream some time ago.  Every so often I revisit the grave yard of my lost dreams.  The tombstones are more than what I wanted to see.  I don't stay long.  I like to believe I can one day become a writer.  Every day that I don't take a step towards this goal is another step behind. I want a profession I truly love where I can support myself.  The job I have is ok but the hours are grueling.  Yet it pays the many bills that I have.  I hope to become a decent photographer - I don't need to be a world class photographer.  I just want to be able to memorize and use all those features in my camera that I don't always use.  There are many more of these hopes and dreams.

I look at others with misplaced envy.  Their lives seem so perfect.  I mumble to myself, "the grass is always greener on the other side ...".  I just want to peek at their angst to make sure. While I stew and simmer in my prison, time just marches on. 

Snippets:  a collection of senseless tidbits strung together incoherently.

1.  I go to this Chinese barbershop where the staff the staff always answers the phone in Cantonese.  The barber who cuts my hair always chats with me in English.  But he seldom answers the phone.  So before I call to make an appointment, I have to mentally rehearse what I want to tell them when I call.  One time I didn't rehearse and almost asked to make a reservation for a table.  This time, my barber answers the phone.  But my mouth is already babbling in faux Cantonese and i made an appointment.  After I hung up, I realized he didn't even ask my name.  As he was snipping away, I asked him if he knew that was me that called.  He said "No, I didn't recognize your voice.  It sounded like a westerner calling."  I scowled "But I was speaking in Cantonese to you!".  He sort of shrug and diplomatically replied "Oh... you sound different on the phone."  Somewhere up there, my mom must be shaking her head.

2.  Air conditioning and I don't get along. I just can't stand a cold room.  The place I'm working at lately has bone chilling AC.  I have to go outside to warm myself.  I actually wear a light sweater indoors.  It's the same at my dad's place.  I always have to reset the thermostat when I get there.  If I don't bring a jacket or sweater, I wrap myself in a towel.  Even during the heatwave, I would bring my laptop out to the porch and work there because it was more comfortable.  But when I sleep, I prefer a cool bedroom where I can snuggle underneath my blanket. 

3.  Sleep and I continue to have a very tense relationship right now.  A few days ago, I went to bed early but woke up at 2:30AM and couldn't get back to sleep.  I managed to sleepwalk through work.  Another day, I tossed and turn until 3 before falling asleep.  I wish my mind and my body would be on the same time zone.

4.  While navigating through a busy sidewalk, I noticed a woman across the street handing out flyers.  Normally this wouldn't catch my attention but she was picky about who she was giving her flyers too.  When the light turned green, I cross the intersection and kept an eye on her.  She would scan around and then give some random person a flyer.  When I got near her, she walked up to me and gave me a flyer.  I looked down at it.  It was a coupon for gym membership.    ok ok.. I get the hint. 

5.  I never noticed this about myself before but I like to check out people's toes.  I've caught myself several times looking at guy's toes when they are wearing sandals, slippers or flip flops.  I don't know why I like to look at them.  I'm curious what people do with their toes when they are in the throes of an orgasm.  Some clench them, so open them wide, some curl them...  So if you catch me staring at your toes and looking a bit distracted, you'll know what's on my mind.  Now that I've written this, I doubt if I'll ever show my face to anyone here.  *reaches for sunglasses* 

(ed. note:  omg Matt... you have a foot fetish!)