Here I am four years after your passing. I’m not sure if you’ve been following but it’s been a pretty busy year for me.
While I have a lot to feel accomplished and proud about, I still often feel I’m no further ahead than before. I suspect this feeling of “Yeah but…what’s next?” will be continually present in my life for quite some time…but who knows?
I’m quite resolutely single. There are special people in my life, however none of them have become someone to share my life with at this moment. I know and feel love, but nothing even remotely close to what we had. I’m content with that for the moment – despite the occasional pangs of almost crippling loneliness, Chloe and I are doing okay, facing the world together.
Chloe is doing well, she’s acclimatized to being an “only child” after Sunny passed and is enjoying the occasional visitor and trip to Grandmas! She’s taking good care of me and continues to know instinctively when I need a little extra cuddle or quiet time. Her seizures have diminished and only happen when things are really hot and she’s stressed out.
Mom’s doing okay, she’s coping with some issues with the house that Dad normally would have taken care of, but with the help of Stephen, Ivan, Jack Goldsmith and myself, I think she’s doing all right…despite the odd crowbar being thrown into plans. Stephen, Dana and the girls are doing well – you’d be so proud of Hannah, she starts University in September and has decided to go to York.
Santa Bob is still in contact and we often chat together. He and some of the other Santas have been a remarkable help and incredibly supportive of me as I heal, recover, learn and grow. I suspect that Santa will be in my life in some form or another for quite some time.
After years of struggle, Bob and I finally had to call it a day with Santa Canada. Too many people wanted to handle the visits and “glory work” but no one wanted to step up to the plate and handle the grunt work…it was a valiant effort by the Santas Bob and I but alas…
David is still my mentor, psychologist and “second dad” – it’s been a while since I’ve seen him in person, but we’re in regular contact to keep each other sane and laughing. Doug, Dana and Mara are still amazing friends who keep me grounded and remind me that there will ALWAYS someone there “in case of emergency.”
Rev. Doug has become a great friend since you died. His no-nonsense demeanour and solid grounding in faith is an anchor for me…you’d be so happy that Rev. Beyerl has taken me under his wing to ensure my studies that started with you have continued…I am blessed to be able to walk the fine line between Pagan and Christian.
While the Hamilton Gay Mens’ Chorus has disbanded, I still sing at St. Paul’s and my voice has grown stronger over the years. It has helped me find my voice and strength in other areas of singing and I forever am thankful for Blair to have taken the chance on me as a singer.
I wish I could tell you how Cheryl, Melissa and the kids are doing, however they seem to be quite out of the picture and have not responded to attempts to contact them. I guess I will now be “out of sight, out of mind.”
I suspect you know your cousin Elda has joined you on the other side of the veil and I hope you have had time to catch up and chat…
table for one. has been recorded and released. It’s an audio document of my life while you were convalescing from cancer and then my recovery from the psychological and emotional devastation of your and Dad’s (and yes, Sunny’s) deaths.
I am happy to have it “out of me” and in the public eye and ear as it has allowed me to move on creatively. It’s as if the stones blocking my pathway…
That being said, I’m still a basket case and unsure of what the future brings. Work, despite being more peaceful now, seems to be up in the air and after almost 2 decades there, I am not sure of what I would desire for my future. It’s very interesting as I know my future path is veering away from that direction but at the moment, I am unsure of where it will lead me.
Thank you for loving me when I was pretty near unlovable. Thank you for believing in me when even I could not do so. Thank you for picking up the broken pieces of my life and making me whole again.
I miss you. I hope to continue to honour your memory. I love you.