The Long Island Mike IV

I never much cared for New Year's Eve and all the celebrations. I remember being six years old and ringing in the new year while throwing up with anxiety because I was scared of the constant moving time. Even at such a young age I was aware that time was moving, it would never stop and the time that was gone was never coming back...and the more I thought about it the sicker I became. I guess I was always a neurotic mess when it came to the realization that I was constantly dying.

Mike worked every New Year's Eve, it was his job to set up Times Square for the tens of thousands of people that wanted to catch a glimpse of the ball dropping as they counted down the final seconds of the year. This year was not much different for him in terms of work however he struggled with every passing minute. I would get a text here and there and I could tell he was texting me for small talk as a way to avoid texting her and begging for forgiveness. It's difficult for him to say sorry and mean it, or at least say it in a tone that sounds sincere but this time I think he really is sorry but is too scared to give her that information after weeks of hurling insults at each other. The problem is that once you start to hit below the belt in a fight it breaks down the trust and erodes anything positive that was flourishing. He is hoping she is bluffing and I think he believes that if he is able to stay busy then he can distract himself away from losing the only child he has...and he doesn't even have them yet and may never get the chance to experience fatherhood.

The ball dropped and my heart sunk...what an awful way to ring in the new year...

The Long Island Mike III

Over two dozen messages and half a dozen phone calls were missed by the time I woke the next morning. She needs money for doctors visits and he wants to give her money but she doesn't want his money and I need coffee. This is way more entertaining than on line dating although I have a heavy heart for both of these people. She is actually quite kind and caring and wants the family but not the abusive baggage he brings and he wants the family but can't give up the vodka...but he would tell you that he would throw it all out the window for a shot to be a father. It's all anger infused and miscommunication, one won't listen and the other won't talk and I know I have been in this situation where nothing is getting resolved and one is always trying to out yell the other. About thirteen years or more ago I was in that exact situation; pregnant and all. Dealing with a drug addict of a boyfriend and newly pregnant; we never got along and he was highly abusive...at first it was all emotional but slowly it became very physical. I remember having my car packed every Friday and ready to move because he would come home either drunk or high and it was always a fight. I could see where she is was coming from...in fact I felt like I could predict her days and future if she was tied to Mike for the rest of her life. I wondered if she was going to make the same decision I had...

The Long Island Mike II

I somehow got tangled into this web of abuse and anger; apparently trying to support my friend Mike meant I was against her...and I don't even know 'her'. I can't help but sit back and laugh to myself for just a minute, I remember being in these types of relationships...the rush of the highs and the absolute devastation of the lows. Using the relationship as a bargaining chip and trying to find the most hateful things you could possibly say to one another; they both seemed to have a lengthy list of each others fears and failures to hurl at one another. I don't miss those feelings although I would be lying if I said I didn't miss the highs and make up sex. Dan and I have never and I mean ever had an all out fight where we verbally attacked one another...I couldn't even imagine yelling at him or cursing him out.

Mike continuously talked about having a healthy relationship so he could have the family life but I question his sincerity with his alcohol use and offensive behaviours. We've moved on from emails to messaging apps, texting and phone calls...it's become a fierce game of who can have me on their side...why does that even matter? I feel sad for both but I have a friendship with Mike so I feel a little obligated to support him although I won't do it if he just wants me to help him bully her into keeping the baby. I couldn't even imagine being in either of their spots right now; she is pregnant with their baby, a baby that Mike has always dreamed about and she is terrified to be tied to him for the rest of her life...what a fucking mess.

I placed my phone on silent and curled up with Dan on the couch...

The Long Island Mike

Sometimes opening up your email is like finding a fun surprise and other times it's all spam...I thought I moved him into the spam box. I wasn't entirely shocked he was writing me and I could easily tell that the vodka was doing the typing. This man has been a drain on me since I discovered his love of booze and abuse. "Hey Mike, what's going on?" I half expected some long drawn out essay on how he was doing better knowing he was full of shit if he had. Instead I got a file of hate emails he and his girlfriend were sending to each other. So, now that he and I moved to the friend zone he thinks it's okay to show me evidence of his other dysfunctional relationships? I rolled my eyes until my head ached and then attempted to write a very heart felt 'I fucking told you so' email in response. Both of them have only ever been in volatile relationships and he is an active alcoholic...but he is dying for the family life so here he is trying to lock up another woman into marriage and keep all of the important details a secret from her...except she has a son and that is hardly fair to the kid. She's pregnant and although they planned to have a baby together she now wants to bail on the plan and he is soaked in vodka hoping she will change her mind.

We exchanged a few emails until I was sure that he was not going to hurt himself or anyone else. He has a history of driving drunk and angry and he is right in that zone but assures me he will not leave his place. And just when I thought I had put his fire out...the girlfriend starts emailing her own garbage...I really gotta start charging for this shit.

The Sun Always Comes Up V

Dan was well on his way to completing breakfast while I picked up all of the wrapping paper. We would so much rather be the parents that go on vacation during the holidays and give the gift of experience. This year we stayed home because she loves everything about Christmas and we wanted to be sure to make it as close to 'traditional' as possible, without family of course. Dan doesn't even get so much as a text over the holidays but I don't think it bothers him like it does me.

I grabbed my coffee and sat beside Wendell on the couch so he could rest his head on my lap. "Dan should we get a puppy for Wendell?" He turned around with the spatula in his hand and a less than impressed look on his face, "No". Okay, but we agreed after Wendell that puppies were far too much work so maybe it was just a matter of my words...I'll let that conversation die, the seed has been planted. I reached over and helped her create a necklace out of her new beading kit...I imagine these will all be in my vacuum in less than six months...

The Sun Always Comes Up IV

I am just about done with the holidays, I can barely keep Dan in the positive over Christmas anymore. There were far too many presents under the tree and I watch her try to count them each day...she's hilarious. I sat at the kitchen island and stared blankly at the microwave while I poured warm coffee down my throat. I wished my mom and son were here, I was always surrounded by my family at this time of year but things change and now his father has him during the holidays and my mom was away this year. If I could just get Dan to a medium excited but he never liked the holidays and I guess I always understood why. He's a different duck, a wild soul that not only marches to a different beat...he created it and helps me create my own. It's funny because we are the same and different in all of the right ways...

The Sun Always Comes Up III

I opened the front door to a pile of presents left by the UPS guy. They were all for my daughter from her grandparents...the in laws. My frustration started to grow, maybe because of the stress of the holidays or the fact that they do the absolute least possible to have anything to do with her and then send a bunch of gifts as a way to show their artificial involvement. I placed them on the counter and watched Dan stare in confusion until he started to read the names. At this point I don't even have to express my irritation to him because he has enough of his own. The problem isn't that they sent gifts, the problem is that when you only see her for a few hours a year she starts to forget who you are, she's only three. Now we have to say who they came from and then improvise some bullshit reasons why they never bother to visit her. I'm sure Dan has a reserve of excuses piled up from his own experiences but I don't feel like this should be our issue. I stood behind Dan while he typed a text message requesting they either start spending time with her or not bother sending her stuff which only creates confusion.

I guess I understand why they might not want to come here since I was very blatant almost a decade ago on my feelings towards them...but why is she left to pay that bill? Do they think they are hurting me by not coming to visit their son and granddaughter? I have always left that door wide open for them to come and visit their family but they refuse to walk through it and if they can't get over a decade ago then I guess they can continue to perpetuate what I have obviously proven to be right. I have no anger left to give them...it's just sad and at some point they will have to answer to Dan and our daughter...if she even cares by that time...he doesn't.

I hugged Dan tightly and rested my head on his chest...how could anyone not want to be in his life? This man is nothing short of amazing...their loss...look...the sun still comes up and the earth spins and time goes on and she grows up...with or without them...

The Sun Always Comes Up II

The holidays were shaping up to be completely different this year. Not only did we have to deal with Django being gone but this was the first Christmas since his birth that I would be without my son. I'm not someone who is good at letting go of things that I have enjoyed for so long whether it be my own tradition or thoughts or dreams.

I had all of my shopping done and tried my best to get into the spirit but it was becoming a full time job. It wasn't like I was depressed...more of pushed to move forward and accept certain changes as a fact of life. Dan hates the Christmas holidays so it was easy to get caught in his negativeness but we both made an effort to always make it fun for our daughter who loved setting up a tree, wrapping gifts, baking and shopping.

I poured myself a glass of Pinot and opened a beer for Dan then joined him on the couch where he was busy making Play Doh men for their Play Doh towns. I rested my hand on Django as I passed by, she would love to be laying on the floor watching my daughter's excitement.

The Sun Always Comes Up

I woke to my daughter playing in the front room and Dan trying to explain how sharing toys is supposed to work. I laid in bed for a few more minutes and thought about John. I reached over and grabbed my phone, he didn't text me and for the first time I was actually relieved not to hear from him. I deleted our previous conversations but I didn't block him...I didn't feel like I needed to. There was a time where I had to just to let go of his toxic behaviours but now the spell is broken and he can't touch my emotions.

I rolled out of bed and threw on a sweater before I found Dan and our daughter negotiating a huge toy trade. Wendell was laying on the couch so I curled up beside him and gave him some extra love since Django is gone. Sometimes I find him on her pillow whimpering, I thought he would be okay but he's not and now I gotta find a way to convince Dan to get Wendell another friend.

Full Circle XV

I stayed up late into the middle of the night trying to figure out what had happened to me during that part of my life when I met him. I couldn't find an answer no matter the thought path I took. Maybe I was just out of control and lost in my own confusion...but I wasn't confused anymore and hoped I never would be again.

I walked over and laid my hand on Django's box of ashes to say good night. I miss her so much and wished she as here to see that I am okay and that everything will be okay although I imagine she knew that which was why she was okay leaving when she did.

I climbed into bed beside Dan and kissed his face, if he never let me grow I would never learn about myself, my strengths and weaknesses, my abilities and fears. This was never about having permission to have affairs with other men...this was only ever about removing unnecessary boundaries and restrictions we never supported in order to live a life full of choice and freedom without fear. He warms my soul and fills my heart with understanding and love. I never once had to walk to the edge alone or walk through my demons without him...he is this incredible man that loves his wife so much he lets her fly...untethered and free...

Full Circle XIV

I heard the door latch behind me as I walked down the hallway to the elevators. Time will always take care of everything, no matter how helpless or frustrated, scared or confused you feel...time will eventually heal your wounds and answer your questions. The doors opened up in the lobby and I could still hear the staff discussing something in the back room...I threw my jacket on and walked through the front doors and right to my car.

My windows were completely frosted but I didn't mind sitting there contemplating if two drinks in a few hours was too much. I rested my head on the steering wheel and ran through the past two years like a flip book of my greatest hits. The windows finally cleared enough for me to be able to drive and  I thought it would have been more difficult than the first time leaving, knowing that I may never see him again...but it wasn't. I slid into drive and pulled out onto the street...only forty minutes til home...he can make the eight hour trip this time and be alone with his thoughts...

Full Circle XIII

"I don't want you to go".

Ugh, what was really pissing me off at this moment was the fact that when I wanted him to meet with me he never showed up and I am almost certain that in that time he never once cared...and here I am letting my heart strings be pulled by the same man. I sat back down on the bed and watched him tilt a half full bottle of Crown Royal and effortlessly pour it down his throat. He flopped back down on the bed and I made my way to the bathroom to collect myself and maybe have a little pep talk to help me reach my exit. I tied my hair up on top of my head and straightened my shirts, did my belt back up and took one last look in the mirror before I made my way back into his room.

I turned the corner to find him completely naked with his limp cock flopped over his leg and to be fair it was quite impressive. He must have passed out or fell into his liquor induced coma. I walked over to collect my scarf and jacket and quietly picked up all the bottles off of the floor and placed his clothes over the back of the chair. I found one blanket that he wasn't laying on and used it to cover him up.

I stood at the door and watched him for a few minutes, I wanted to just breathe it all in so I could exhale and leave everything in that room.

Full Circle XII

I could feel the warm tears stream down my face and could barely feel his lips touch mine. Why would I put myself into this situation? At this point I imagine that holding on to something for this long...like a thought or memory can make me try and follow through on what I believed it would look like...but that vision no longer exists and the only version I am comfortable with anymore is one where we are friends. But could I be friends with him after everything? I've told this man to fuck off so many times whether it be in my head, over text, emailed or out right in the parking lot of the RCMP. I've cursed him, cried and finally walked away and convinced myself that he could never bring anything good to my life. I can leave and wish him well and even believe it and want happiness for him because I'm laying here with his whiskey soaked tongue in my mouth and his hands trying to get under all of my layers of clothes and other than sadness for him...I feel nothing. Darkness cannot survive in the light and as long as he chooses to live in the dark then there is no place for our friendship in his life.

I wiped my tears with the sleeve of my cardigan and sat up...thank god this didn't happen when I was sitting in my own dark corners. I did up the buttons on my sweater and located my boots...

Full Circle XI

We were laying on the bed facing each other and he was telling me about his daughters; his face lit up and his pride was shining through his words. He's a cop because he followed a long line of family members before him, but the job started to have real affects on him once he started his own family. He's terrified for his daughters and doesn't know how to stop the bad things from happening...not to them but just in general. The horrors he has witnessed will never leave his thoughts and the only thing worse that he can think of is those things happening to his daughters...the alcohol for a little while makes him numb and distracts the thoughts from consuming him. Working in that atmosphere makes it difficult to see any good that goes on and at times consumes you into thinking it is the norm. It took a long time for me to realize that just because I work with federal offenders doesn't mean that everyone is bad...it just means that I see it more than most so it becomes a bigger part of my life and I don't have the luxury of ignorance...nor does he. I started to tell him about Django, I don't know why, maybe it was the alcohol or that for once we were sharing a real moment and I didn't want him to feel alone in it. As the tears started to fill me eyes he leaned over to hold my face and kiss me...I instantly felt lost in my emotions...he's drunk and I'm sad...the whole fucking situation is sad...

Full Circle X

We both sat with our backs against the head board and watched whatever was on the television. At this point I am here so he is not alone another night and drinking himself unconscious and we are both aware of this truth...it never has to be said. I hated that my heart was betraying me and making me feel sad for him, in a little while I am going to head back to my family and he will finish whatever is left in his liquor cabinet and pass out until his shift the next morning. But really...what am I supposed to do? I can't make him stop and I can't follow him around as a support hoping that one day he wants to deal with his demons. I have nothing to lose when it comes to this guy, I have patiently waited to talk about his demons and now I am alone with him in a safe space and he's tipsy...I'm going to take advantage.

   "What happened to you?"
   "What do you mean? I told you that I was working either at my job or on my marriage".
   "I get that, I mean what happened to make you emotionless or robotic? What happened to make you drink your weight in alcohol regularly?"
   "I told you I don't want to get into it"
   "What difference does it make? We both know when that door closes behind me that we will never see each other again. Mine is gone so yours can no longer affect me".
   "Natalie if I told you what I deal with on a daily basis and have been dealing with since I was only twenty four years old you may never sleep again".
 
I let up a bit with the inquisition because I don't want to press the subject now because the consequences could destroy me if I am left with the visual description of what he sees daily. I let him pour me drink and switched the subject for the time being...I'm not sure I have any desire to continue with this line of questions...maybe I need to just let go of his and paint our ending my own way...

Full Circle IX

I felt him grip my hand tighter as he finished his drink but I didn't look over to watch. I heard once that we tend to attract what we throw out into the universe and I felt instantly sick thinking I was the mirror image of this only two years ago. The weekends with Leann drinking until I was sick and trying to numb myself or just escape from the routine of life. Now all I wanted to do was escape this room and never look back but there was this last lingering part of our friendship that I felt I owed him so I unlaced my boots and decided to stay for another drink. I know I cannot save him and it's not even on the agenda...tonight I just want to say good bye to someone who helped me along the way.

Full Circle VIII

I put my cup on the table and stood up to grab my jacket. "Where ya going Irish?" I smiled over at him and looped my scarf around my neck, "Either for a drink or home, your call". He finished his drink in one swallow and sat back up on the bed, "Why don't we just have another drink here?" Does he not feel the awkward silence like I do? I can't believe he wouldn't want to escape this room. I crouched down on the little stool I was using for my feet and was now facing him, "What happened all of those evenings when you left me waiting?" Well, if he wants to stay in and drink then the least he can do is take this garbage off of my plate and account for his behaviour. "Natalie, I was really working, there was never anything else". Funny how now I really just don't care anymore, it didn't help me or hurt me in the least and I wouldn't even care if I found out he was lying...that belongs to him, not me. I watched him pour another drink and wondered how he was still upright even after one. "The times I never contacted you or answered your calls was because my ex-wife wanted to work on our marriage". Is Robocop opening up to me? I tried my best not to look stunned by his confessions and just smiled and bobbed my head like an idiot. I spotted another empty bottle lodged between the bed and nightstand and felt my heart hurt for him. I watched him pour that drink down his throat and grab the bottle to pour his third...well third that I have seen. Part of me wanted to laugh in his face and walk out just to let the woman I used to be have her day. I stood up and moved towards the bed to sit down beside him...we sat side by side without saying another word while I held his hand. We were so different now...at least I was...

Full Circle VII

He poured himself another drink and kicked his shoes out of the way while he leaned back onto the bed. What the fuck? Why did he stop getting ready? I didn't ask and just continued to sip on my overly strong drink. It was quiet for a while and I remembered how little we actually have in common...almost nothing. I tried to grill him about his work but one thing he will never do is give up any information regarding his work. We talked about our lives, or the very little we would share and I told him all about my travels to New York which he didn't seem to care about. I didn't know how to leave and wasn't sure what else I had to say so I continued to sit in silence and stare at the television hoping for the fire alarm to go off or for him to get called out. Sitting there I had no idea what the fuck my problem was for all those months. I must have been confused, or lost, or crazy in that time to feel like I did...maybe the darkness took that garbage and retreated into the cage with whatever was making me feel so desperate to connect with him. I smiled to myself knowing that the curse was broken and I was free. I took another sip and continued to watch television...it's time to go...

Full Circle VI

I heard the door open to the washroom and almost dropped my drink, I must have zoned out into my thoughts...but for the life of me I cannot recall what I was thinking. He looked the exact same as when I left him and it made me smile to see him again, although he looked like garbage. I imagine the long days of training followed by late nights of drinking, likely alone, takes a toll on one's body and it was showing. It didn't matter though, I wasn't here for anything in particular and now that he actually showed up I could easily walk out the door. It's funny how the mind works or maybe I have become so stubborn that I cannot just let shit go and need the endings...no matter how they play out.

He walked over and topped my cup up with more whiskey and I pretended not to care since there was no way I would be finishing it. He sat on the bed and gathered his shoes while we made small talk and took another run at our banter. The difference is that now I don't feel the strong attraction that used to leave me in tears hoping he would just open up, now I just feel a little sad but not that I pity him...more that I wish he would do the work to be free from his past and demons. He really is a good man, I can see that in him but he chooses to live in a prison and stay numb through booze. It was easy to catch up with someone who never shares information. I could feel him staring at me out of the corner of his eye and suddenly my face started to feel warm and I imagine I was fully blushing hoping he wouldn't notice with the bad lighting. I turned to flash him my best smile and found him lost in thought...I wish I never came. Sometimes it is just better to leave things unresolved and put your own ending to the story, I hate that I am learning this lesson now. I reached over and touched my cup to his..."cheers". He looked up and laughed at me, "you're a dork". I flipped him off and went back to my drink. I felt more like an asshole than a dork...

Full Circle V

The elevator doors opened and closed on me at least twice while I stood there and wondered what in the fuck I was doing. I heard people talking but couldn't make out what they were saying but decided to walk in the next time the doors opened just to fool them...or myself...into thinking I should be there. I walked down a long hallway and found his door, my heart was beating out of my chest and I hated that I was standing here...no...I hated that I wanted to be standing here. I know that he has seen my darkness and I know he has some of his own, maybe I just need him to see that mine is gone...maybe I just need to say good bye to his.

To this day, I could not tell you if I knocked on the door but I recall perfectly seeing him standing in front of me with the door open. "Irish, you gonna come in or what?" Everything came into focus all at once and I played it off like I was shocked he was actually standing in front of me rather than making excuses. "Sure, I'll drink your whiskey while you get ready".

I walked in to a very standard hotel room with more than its fair share of empty alcohol bottles, one I kicked that was laying on the floor in front of the desk...which was also littered with empty bottles. It smelled and looked like a frat house...he must have packed his demons. I found an empty clean plastic cup and poured very little alcohol into it then filled it with soda...he doesn't need to know I am doing this sober. I sat on the small chair in the corner of the room and put my feet on the stool and tried to distract myself with the television while he was in the washroom.

Full Circle IV

He was not on the elevator and the familiar feeling of disappointed and frustration came rushing back to me. Do I drive away and just let it all go? Sure, I can do that...but fuck that. I have given him every chance to be a friend and decent person who should be at the very least as good as his word. I pulled into a parking spot and threw my car into park, I needed a minute to think about this because if I drive away then I have to commit to never seeing him again but something is keeping me here and I have a stronger desire to tie up loose ends for my own closure. I grabbed my phone to text him, "Are you coming out or am I coming in?" I felt sick because a large part of me feared he wouldn't even answer or if he did then he would have some long excuse as to why he was no longer available. My phone lit up, "I just got back from work, come up for a drink while I get ready". I think I may have stopped breathing for a minute or two...I could just wait in the car for him...

Full Circle III

I was standing in the middle of a Starbucks waiting for my Americano and trying to forget that I was picking him up in twenty minutes. My plan was to text him when I arrived so he could come out and we would go to a pub just down the street for a drink and hopefully cut out the childish play and become real friends. That was my plan, unfortunately I need him to play along and that was a different ball game all together. This man would look you straight in the face and tell you the sky is green and believe it himself if it meant going against my view that the sky is blue. Somedays it bothered me and could bring me to tears and others it fuelled me and made me feel incredible...but that's how drugs work. I want to thank him, to apologize to him and to hug him and tell him everything he meant to me and my journey. There were times I wanted to hate him and thought I might but in reality he helped me work out all the kinks and throw out all of the false beliefs about sex, affairs and life in general. In my most vulnerable time he may have had the power to lure me away from my family and he never even entertained the idea. He always kept me at arms length and respected my home life and knew the emotional struggle I was having in trying to rectify in my head that love doesn't need to be present in order to have casual sex. I guess I wasn't mentally prepared nor did I have a clear understanding of what an open marriage entailed in terms of extra marital relationships. John may have been cold and frustrating throughout the past two years but it in hind sight it was so important to help me make the transition. I don't hate him at all, thank goodness he was realistic in my limitations...especially when I could not even think of them...

I pulled up to the front doors and texted him...my anxiety made me giggle as I watched the elevator doors in the lobby open..

Full Circle II

I tapped the screen on my phone as if it would make him respond faster. What is it about this man that makes me play the game so easily? I used to feel a hot rage inside of me when he would pull me into his vortex of garbage but right now I feel like I could use the distraction. He must be working or training here for the next week. What would I say to him if he actually showed up? Will I actually show up? He loves this game and I am not exactly innocent when playing along...it has always been the glue that binds this toxic friendship...or whatever is left of it. I can remember clearly the two of us standing in the parking lot of his work having an all out verbal argument then almost hitting him with my car, he lit this fire in me that I craved to have but knew was damaging to the person I am. He could bring me to the brink of insanity just before pulling me back in, like he wanted me to have the slightest glimpse into his own chaotic emotional nightmare. I think I feel sorry for him...who could maintain a life at that speed and still thrive and be healthy for your children? I didn't feel the anxiousness around him anymore and that was relieving because I felt in control knowing he was back in touch but also with the knowledge that he was in my city.

"I'm off at six tonight, wanna go out for a drink?" Hmm, do I bite and agree only to be stood up again? Do I tell him to fuck off and not even entertain the likelihood of him showing up? "I'll need you to pick me up at my hotel because I don't have a car here". That's new because he has never ever let me be in control of meeting and now he has to tell me where exactly he is staying which should or could scare him easily because if he stands me up I can still find him and completely call him out on his bullshit games. The next text was definitely upping the ante, it included his hotel and room number, I could call to make sure he was being honest but that was not an option I am giving myself. If I plan to meet him for a drink then I have to let everything else go otherwise I'll only create anger in myself.

"I'll pick you up at seven." There was no need to say anything else, no threats or jokes about his previous behaviours...that Natalie is gone...I don't really care anymore if he shows up or cancels because I am no longer a player in his game.

Full Circle

I sat at the island in the kitchen and looked between my phone and her box of ashes. So much has changed and on days like today it is difficult to see any of the good that has come about...but it doesn't mean I couldn't at least find a few examples. I placed my hand over her paw that was in a frame beside the box, I love having her home with me...even in death she gives me comfort and support.

I sat vacant for a few more minutes, or an hour...time was invisible to me at this point. I picked up my phone and typed and deleted at least half a dozen messages. I wanted to see him but I wondered if it was only because of my ego or because I wanted to see if I would actually see him again. How can I possibly give him another chance to not show up...it's not like I couldn't take it if I was stood up but it would be difficult to swallow if it was him once again. "What's up Robocop?" I guess I could find out his intentions before I unleash my own...self loathing feels so much better when sadness is already in place...

Home for the Holidays V

"Hey Irish...guess who's in town?"

I stared at my screen for a short eternity...do I answer? I could just feel the kitchen swirling around me and slowly I was feeling sick to my stomach. Life still happens even when you run away to NY once a month, it waits for you. I can't escape life and now for the first time in a long time I realized that there will always be obstacles and disappointment to deal with. My life might be fun in NY but it is really just a short vacation and when I am home I still have a life to live...a real life, one with consequences and sadness, defeat and every other struggle. Yes, there is happiness and pride, love and family but for a brief moment in my life...I forgot life could be so incredibly unforgiving. I heard the garage door open, Dan is home with her. I placed my phone on the counter and ignored him for now...I want to welcome her home...

Home for the Holidays IV

I asked Dan to pick up her box of ashes from the vet, I wasn't sure I could make the drive. I was happy she would be home for Christmas and it was about all the good news I had lately. I cleared off a spot on the shelf and made sure to have another place for her pictured paw print, I ordered one for Karen too, the place was perfect for her shrine. Dan said we should release her ashes into the river because it was her favourite place but I can't let her go alone so she will wait for Wendell.

I looked over to find Wendell laying half off of the couch looking bored so I walked over and pulled his head onto my lap. His ears moved when I told him Django was coming home today...he knows she won't be in the same form. I wonder how long he knew she was dying for? I kissed his nose and walked back over to my phone that was lit up...I noticed the pattern almost immediately...that's a lot of seven's...

Home for the Holidays III

I'm done my Christmas shopping. It didn't have the same warmth it has carried in me for all of my years. I loved walking through the malls and streets, seeing them lit up and people watching for hours. Today it was more about completing a task and trying to get through it as painlessly as possible. It's funny how things work, I looked at her everyday and just assumed she would always be there. It never occurred to me until it was too late that one day she may not...regret is an awful feeling. I completely took for granted that she would be around if I needed her for a walk, talk or just comfort. 

I heard the phone ring but was too caught up on my own thoughts to answer. It was the vet, Django's ashes were ready to be picked up...she'll be home for the holidays...

Home for the Holidays II

The house is emptier these days and I don't think I could handle another question period with my daughter over her dog. It's funny, she doesn't care for dogs or other animals unless they are stuffed and she can carry them around...but Django was the exception to her rule. Django and her were perfect friends and for some reason that was her dog. Together they would raid the dog treats and sleep together, watch television together and team up to pester the other dog. I remember one day she gave both of the dogs a chew treat and when Django finished hers, my daughter went and stole the chew treat from Wendell and gave it to Django. These two were partners in crime and now I am lost trying to explain that her friend isn't coming back without having to dive into the discussion of death this early in her life. More than once we have offered her candy in an effort to de-rail her questioning and I'm not entirely sure how I will help her preserve the memories of her friend and not answer her questions.

I looked down to find Wendell at my feet, sitting beside me and looking up. I feel sad for him, I placed my hand on his head and tossed him a piece of cheese...he smelled it and nudged it with his nose but couldn't be bothered to eat. I slid down to the floor and pulled him onto my lap, Wendell has always preferred dogs to people but today...today he just wants me...I'd love to mourn with him...

NYC Marathon

Sorry friends there will not be a post today. I'll be running in my second NYC marathon today. Will resume tomorrow...thank you so much for your continued support.

Home for the Holidays I

We didn't talk about her for days, we barely talk about anything. I walk around the house in a daze trying to answer my daughters questions without becoming an emotional puddle. I'm not sure how my other dog is doing, he seems okay but it's barely been a full day. I was hoping to have Django home for Christmas one last time, I was going to make her a turkey dinner and let her eat everything she wanted. I was sad when she stopped eating all together because it meant I couldn't give her a last meal. The vet told me that I did everything I could and gave up at the right time, but really, what was she going to say? I did feel good about taking every approach thrown at me but failure is awful and downright sickening when the cost is this high. I took her collar from the dog bin in the closet and put it put it in a safe place where I would always have it. Some people think she was 'just a dog'...she was my friend, she loved me and took care of me...if only we could all be 'just dogs'...

From Paws to Wings

She knelt down beside me and inserted the needle, I couldn't even conjure up the strength to nod my head and finally let her rest. I laid there with my nose meeting hers and felt her lick the tip of mine one last time, I could never apologize enough. She let out a light moan and the doctor proceeded and with the realization that she was leaving me I couldn't contain the pain any more and sobbed into her neck. I felt her heart stop and panic set in, I wanted to take it back, I wasn't ready, just one more minute I begged. Her body went limp and she was resting painlessly. Without looking away I reached for Dan's hand and we locked fingers around her and cried together.

I heard the vet leave but I didn't move. I don't know how much more time I need with her, I will never see her like this again. I could hear Karen standing to leave and felt Dan make his way to his feet too, I was still gagging on my anxiety and sadness...I could lay here all night with her and tell her the story of 'us' forever...I remember walking into the shelter and Dan was standing with his back to you, you tapped him on the back of leg to let us know you were there. We fell in love with your big ears and pink nose immediately...that day you handed in your shelter name and became part of our family...

Therapy for Two XVI

Dan and I left the room when Karen showed up. We gave her ten minutes to say her good byes while we paid the bill and caught our breath for the final stage of our own good byes. I used the wall to keep upright and threw a text to Stephanie to let her know it would still be about two hours...she didn't care, as long as Django was comfortable and we were there. I finally slouched onto the bench behind me and caught my head in my hands as I bent over to stare at the floor. I think we were wrong, I think she was dying from the inside out and that her legs were just a sign of something much worse. It doesn't matter now though, if it's cancer you can already smell it coming from her and no amount of treatment can reverse death.

The door opened and Karen waved us back in. I wanted that ten minutes to last forever. Dan grabbed my hand and led me back into the room where Django had become progressively worse since I sat with her this morning. Karen took the couch, Dan laid behind her and crawled in front and kept my nose touching hers and eyes locked. I once read that no matter how difficult it is to say good bye to your pet, it is far worse for them if they have to make the journey alone...I placed her paw in my hand and kissed her nose.

There was a light knock on the door and the doctor peeked in, I never broke my stare...

Therapy for Two XV

I drove carefully trying to see the road through my tears while Dan held her on his lap in the back seat. Her moans are much louder and the pain is coming through...she moans and I sob. Dan and I don't talk, there is nothing to say or maybe nothing that we want to say. I would give anything for one day of health for her just one day to throw the ball or have her jump on my lap. I wonder if she knows and then I stop because I can barely breathe and I can see the tears roll down Dan's face in the rear view mirror. She loves him so much, whenever I would leave bed in the mornings she would jump up and onto my side and they would snuggle for another hour. He walked her, fed her, carried her up and down stairs, taught her to swim, took her fishing and was incredibly understanding and gentle at every moment she needed him to be. I pulled up to the front doors and bailed out of the car to be able to help Dan get her out as comfortably as possible. When we went through the main doors the three ladies who cared for Django stood in a line and embraced her immediately.

They brought us into a small but comfortable room that might have felt soothing if not for the reasons we were there. We laid her down on the floor that was piled high with blankets and laid on each side of her. Still not a word, the vet came in to groom her for her needle and I could feel the sickness rise in my throat and I feared I was going to be sick all over her. She placed the tube beside her and told us to take our time. Karen wasn't there yet and I couldn't just steal her time to say good bye. I buried my face in her neck and listened to her breathe in my ear...it won't be long but I think it feels like forever for her...so I apologize one more time...

Therapy for Two XIV

I woke and she was gone. Dan had left for work and brought her downstairs to go outside and pee and then left her on the pillow in the living room. She lifted her head when I came around the corner and I can see how uncomfortable she is and her little moans tear at my heart. I called and left a message for her vet...I need guidance, I want her to give me another week...another day. I grabbed my computer and coffee and sat down beside her just like I used to do. I laid my hand on her head an stroked her forehead with my thumb. She smells different today and my other dog lays almost on top of her now. She's dying...I can't pretend that she will recover anymore...at this point she is here for me and I cannot continue to take from her anymore, she has given me absolutely everything without complaint. Her moans became louder and the phone is ringing from the vet...the last appointment I will set for her and I hate myself. How long was I keeping her alive just for me?

Dan is on his way home and our friend Stephanie is coming to watch my daughter. I have to call Karen to meet us there...it's too much, it feels too surreal and I need to stop time to just think for one minute...if time could just fucking stop so I can catch my breath.

I got dressed and let Stephanie in twenty minutes later. When Dan got home we brought Django up to our bed to lay with her for the last time...

Therapy for Two XIII

I walked in to find her trying to get comfortable. Her tail moved when she spotted me and I can see in her body that she has lost weight and behind her eyes she has lost hope. I felt Dan grab my hand and kiss my forehead. Make no mistake, this is very difficult for him but he will never crumble...he wont even waver if he knows I need him. I crawled beside her so she could lick my face without getting up to greet me. I love to sing to her and tell her that she's a good girl and she humours me with her kindness and unconditional love. I know she has to go but I can't...I have tried everything to come to terms with saying good bye...but I can't. It's like I cannot convince myself to let her go, I lean so hard on her for friendship and found in her what I always lacked in friends. How can I say good bye to her when I'm not ready? I easily move back into my guilt and struggle to find my self loathing so that I can hate myself for not being a better friend to her these last few months. She only cares I am there now. I got up and grabbed some cheese for her pain pill, she looked away from me in an effort to reject it but my tears have become convincing to her and she takes the last of her medications. Tomorrow we head back to the vet and there is nothing I can tell myself to feel better...I have tonight and maybe tomorrow...

I asked Dan to take her upstairs to be with us; he bent over to cradle her without ever saying a word...I don't think he could have said anything without losing his own composure, which he keeps so well for us. He made her comfortable on an oversized pillow and pulled me into him, I leaned hard against him and prayed...

Therapy for Two XII

You have got to be fucking kidding me! We landed in Saskatoon and slid off of the runway; they kept us on the plane for two hours waiting to get us towed. They finally let off the Saskatoon passengers so they could clear customs and get on with their lives. The rest of us were confined to the plane for an additional two hours until they decided that the plane would not be leaving again this evening and they would have to send an empty one ASAP. A six hour flight, four hours confined to the plane and then an over night in an airport waiting for an empty plane to arrive from god knows where. I fucking hate Sunwing and I was so tired at this point I was sick to my stomach.

It was eight full hours before the plane arrived from Vancouver and I would have drove if I thought I could stay awake to make the drive. An airport bench seemed like my best option at this point. Angry and tired is likely not the best combination for a drive through a blizzard. When we were finally boarding our flight home there was a representative at the gate handing out vouchers for any upcoming vacations...not even if the flight was free Sunwing!

Three hours until I walk through my door and I know she did not eat her breakfast this morning...

Therapy for Two XI

My first shot to tequila came on the last morning of the trip with Tracy. It was not quite noon but we didn't care. I tried to order a margarita a couple of days ago but I witnessed how much tequila he put into the glass so I walked it to the furthest table and left it sitting there...I didn't want to be another statistic.

We all piled into our busses and made our way to the airport. Me and another wedding party member were on a later flight and he was getting off in Saskatoon and I was going on to Edmonton. An hour and a half of waiting after the first flight took off and he and I decided to drink until we could board just to pass the time. I loved being in her wedding and that she let me bring a close friend along...and I am dying inside wondering how my best friend is doing at home and if she is just waiting for me to say good bye...wheels up...

Therapy for Two X

I woke more home sick than I can ever recall feeling before and now I feel stuck on this compound rather than being on a luxurious vacation. Dan told me this morning that Django hadn't had much change in her condition and I can't help but wonder if that is my fault for being away. The next few days are going to be agony even with close friends around me but there is nothing I can do at this point so I grabbed my towel and made my way to the shower.

I think the entire time I have been here I have only taken off my bathing suit to wear the bridesmaid dress and to put on proper clothing for dinner...otherwise I have lived in my bathing suits. I stood in the middle of my room crying in my bathing suit and floppy hat wishing I could spend the day tucked away in my room but knowing it would not be the therapy I needed. I wiped my eyes and grabbed a water...it was mainly for looks, I don't think I even touched anything but alcohol since I walked off the plane.

Therapy for two IX

The wedding was beautiful...getting ready for the wedding was nothing short of awful. The bridesmaids and mother of the bride were taxied into the town for hair and makeup which in hindsight seemed crazy since the humidity ruined it in less than an hour. Mother of the bride and step mother of the bride are not exactly best friends, throw in father of the bride and the recipe for awkward beyond comfort was thick. I had the privilege of sitting next to her half sister who at 18 years old acted like an entitled brat that lacked social skills and tact. Thank goodness for her other sister who is funny, intelligent and did everything she could to make me feel like I was part of the family. Since Leanne and I roomed together in university I was not shocked by any of this...except for her one sister who I wanted to reprimand for her awful behaviour towards anyone she spoke to.

Two hours later and we were back at the hotel squeezing into our dresses and assisting the bride. Flat hair and running make up could not be stopped due to the heat so it was pretty much a rush from my air conditioned room to the alter with little standing around time. I was first up, which meant I stood in the sun the longest and by the time everyone was at the alter I could feel the sweat pour down my back, continue down my legs and into my heels. I can honestly say I have never been so uncomfortable in my life, nor have I ever experienced sweating like this before.

It was a quick ceremony followed by over an hour of pictures on the beach with no reprieve from the sun. The make up felt like it was melted to my face and I imagined I looked like a sad or creepy clown at this point and cringed at the thought of it being forever printed as a picture and put in a wedding book...one I would likely look through several times through out my life.

Therapy for Two VIII

I have no idea how I am escaping hang overs at this point except for the fact that I may never be completely sobering up. Having my own room helps to be able to get away for a quick nap or to just run from everyone if it turns crazy at 2am. Every morning I wake and try on my dress with a little prayer that I'll fit followed by a quick assessment of the amount I could eat and drink for the day. Then I change back into a bathing suit,flip flops and my new oversized hat, I bought right on the beach, and make my way to Tracy's room where I can always find company for food, drinks and swimming...asking her to come along was one of the smartest decisions I have made. She takes me away from the madness and soothes my mental health when it all starts to become too much. I could go to Leanne but she already has so much on her plate with the wedding it would be too selfish to even ask her to make it a little about me.

Tracy was standing in the bathroom brushing her teeth when I walked in and always looked less than impressed in the mornings. She spit in the sink and grabbed her beach bag on the way out the door to breakfast. Another day under the unforgiving sun and I don't think I have seen one single cloud since my plane landed...the tan is coming along nicely...

Therapy for Two VII

Dan would hate this. After two hours he would be out of his mind looking for a way out of the compound. Don't get me wrong it's beautiful and everything is taken care of but he would only see it as a week wasted under the sun. I think three days would be the perfect amount of time to lay around and drink the days away but here I am with two of my best friends so even if time stopped it wouldn't feel so bad. The heat is incredible, even after the sun goes down...my hair has no chance in this humidity so it stays piled high on my head and off of my shoulders. The wedding is booked for day five of the trip and I wonder how the hell I am going to fit into my dress after that many days of eating, drinking and swelling from the heat...but perhaps the sweat will help me slide right into it. I ordered two more vodka-Fanta and pulled the umbrella over to block the sun that seemed to sit about eight feet overhead...

Therapy for Two VI

I had Tracy meet me in Mexico even though she was not part of the wedding...hell she didn't even know my friends. Tracy and I had so much fun in NY earlier this year that I begged her to come as my date...she agreed and brought Curtis as a secondary date...I love those two. Leanne and Tracy greeted me as soon as I stepped off of the shuttle bus; I was already buzzing nicely from the four Corona I drank on the ride over. Everything looked beautiful and although Dan and I do not do tropical or inclusive destinations I could easily see that it was top of the line.

I found my room and locked into Wi-Fi while I asked them to fix the lock on my patio doors that seemed to be broken.  He was late leaving for work, he had to wake her and carry her down the stairs...same story each night and morning. This morning he had to take her outside to pee as well and hold her up. I opened the fridge in my room and proceeded to drink the Corona while I cried and unpacked. I feel like we are missing something but I can't think of what it is. Right now she is home and comfortable...I'm not a hundred percent convinced she will recover anymore but I know she won't go without me...I cracked another bottle and made my way to the lobby to see everyone...

Therapy for Two V

Apparently Sunwing is the Greyhound bus of the skies...I was in shock and awe at how miserable flight attendants could be. The movie was not playing properly, babies crying everywhere and at one point I swear I saw a cat under a seat further down the isle. My seat was broken so I couldn't even recline to have a nap, so I stared blankly ahead and tried to ignore the couple who were a few minutes away from having intercourse beside me. I wished I was at home but I also want to be here for my friend who has been nothing but kind and supportive of my own journey since day one.

We touched down in Hualtuco and I could feel the heat flood into the plane which made everything feel sticky and uncomfortable almost immediately. I'm not a sun chaser by any means and the humidity makes me feel sick...should be an interesting week of alcoholism and sun stroke.

Therapy for Two IV

I was packed and leaving for Leanne's wedding in Mexico, I don't want to leave her but I have to go. I laid with her for a few minutes this morning and told her to wait for me...begged her to wait for me. It's snowing and dark outside but I stay lost in her for just a few more minutes before Karen picks me up and takes me to the airport. I know Dan will take care of her but I also know she hates when I leave...how am I even thinking about leaving her right now? I keep telling myself that she will get better and in a few months she will be playing fetch again but with each day her appetite lessens and she continuously loses weight. I know I am being stubborn but I have to be sure...I can't get this wrong.

My rides here...I have to go but I leave my heart beside her and tell her how much I love her...one week...

Therapy for Two III

She was walking more and better today, she looks strong and I am praying this is her come back. She ate a little more this morning but I am sure that had to do with me hand feeding her like she was royalty. Some days she appears like she can walk miles and is just a little sore and others she struggles to stand and pees on herself...how will I know when it's time? I never want to be so lost and selfish that I refuse to end her pain just to prolong my happiness...but I'm not happy anymore, I'm sad and feel the loss hovering over me. She caught me staring at her from the couch and did her best impression of a healthy dog by standing on her shaky legs and coming to sit in front of me, she could only lay her head on me for a few minutes before she slowly slid down and laid on my feet. Her breath is laboured and her heart is racing, I can feel them on the tops of my feet. She has two weeks left of medications left; if things don't improve for her we may have to operate...but to be honest I don't think an operation can hep her. I think I may have lost her or lost the opportunity to save her and now she exists for me...while I was going through my own struggles I had know idea she was also fighting one...how could I know, she would never interrupt my journey just to save her own life.

Therapy for Two II

She stood beside me looking down at what may as well have been a thousand stairs. We were both still asleep when Dan left for work this morning and he wouldn't dare wake her...she almost never sleeps through the night anymore. I couldn't carry her down the stairs and I knew she wouldn't be able to make the trip herself. I attempted to help her into a laundry basket but she was having none of it...I felt frustrated for her so when she started to pee from what I can only assume was a mix of anxiety and holding it for ten hours I wasn't even mad. After I sopped up her mess I just sat at the top of the first step and cried wondering, 'who I am actually doing this for anymore?' Am I really saving her life or an I protecting myself? She walked over and used her nose to nudge my face softly...because that's what dogs do, they care for you when you can barely care for yourself or them. I just love her so much, I have to know that I have done everything for her...I need her to know that I would never give up and take the easy road...we fight, we fight together. I placed my arm around her neck and she slowly fell onto my lap...she is such a problem solver...and together we slowly slid down the stairs with her on my lap and licking my tears...

Therapy For Two

I wondered if my body would ever feel good again. It felt like I was in an awful car crash which, for some reason, was not enough to stop me from registering for the following year. The experience was incredible, like nothing I had ever felt before and I already wanted it again. It wasn't the runners high I craved, it was feeling of following through instead of finding excuses as to why I could not. I spent a lot of my days watching Django and hoping for her to walk a little longer or further; Dan and I even went and bought enough carpet runners to cover the tile and hardwood so she would always have traction. I noticed the other day that if her legs slid apart that she didn't have the strength to bring them back together and I didn't want her to have to struggle more than she already was. She seemed to do better on the days I was home with her and I wondered if it was because I was at a constant nurture state with her and on days I was out of the house she seemed to walk less if any in the evening. She couldn't climb the stairs anymore to my bedroom so Dan started to carry her again so she could be with us. In the beginning of her life with us I remember him carrying her up and down the stairs and here he was again, true to form, making sure she was safe and as comfortable as could be. My heart never takes a break aching for her and I can see the sadness in her eyes now and I pray and beg for her not to give up...I know we can do this...we have to...

Through Her Eyes VIII

I sleep most of the time now and only eat when she sits besides me and cries, I know what she wants but I just don't feel hungry anymore. She runs a lot now and seems like her old self...maybe even better if she didn't have to worry about me. She only cries with me these days and I think she is strong again...I was strong for her when she needed me to be and carried her along taking care of her little and now she carries me through the days and our hearts are linked. I only needed to make it through the other side with her. She feeds me cheese but I know it has pills in it, they make me sleep and my person hopes that one day I will miraculously recover like she did...but I won't. The days pass by in my haziness of life and I can't or won't let go until she is ready...I don't want to sleep but I no longer have the option...I want to play but my days of fetch are gone, but you can't tell her that because she won't believe you...she will fight you and hate you and hold me...she is my person and I am her dog...

Through Her Eyes VII

We're back at the doctors today, she is hoping for any new information but I don't think there will be any. I lost more weight, more muscle and they have to carry me almost everywhere. I can see her tears and hear the anxiety and panic in her voice and words...she's scared. I crawled under the bench so she couldn't see me suffer and I felt the warm hands of her bigger little wrap around me. He never lived with us but he was around a lot and I spent many nights sleeping in his room and keeping the monsters at bay. He lets me sleep on his bed and shares his snacks with me...I can feel his heart and when he catches his breath to continue his sobbing. I love my family but I don't think I can be here anymore...I wish the doctor would tell them instead of giving me more medications. I felt her hand on my nose and I slowly made my way out from under the bench...they're going to try one more time...this is for her, because I owe my person one more try.

She rested my head on her lap on the way home and I love to hear her sing in my ear as I drift off to sleep...she is my person...

Through Her Eyes VI

I sit at the front door while she laces up her shoes, I want to lay down to stop the pain but I like seeing her happy. She runs a lot these days and I wish I could tag along but I can't even make it around the block anymore. The pain lasts longer these days and the pills they give me make me sleep and I miss her when she's gone. She thinks I will get better but she doesn't know how sick I am and I don't think I am getting any better. She seems to be happier these days and spends her days playing with the little one and I can hear her laugh while I'm drifting off hoping to dream back to the days when we would play in the park.

I remember one morning when she and I were in the park, it was earlier than usual and the little one wasn't here yet but I knew she was on her way...I could feel her in my person. We were walking around the park and there was another dog that was stalking her. My person called me close to her, she knows I have issues with my anxiety and other dogs being around us but she doesn't know that this dog is following us...I may have been wrong in the past and jumped to conclusions before I met the dog. I don't like strange pups around my people...I didn't mean to bite him but he was too close to her. I would never snap at her so when she pulled my collar I immediately released...who will take care of her next time? My person needs me...and I hang on for her...

Through Her Eyes V

They took me to the doctors today, I didn't want to go but she is adamant that they find out why I am limping. I think it's because I sleep under her side of the bed but I am sore and the stairs feel like a lot of work these days. I can't play with her little person like I used to and I hope my person isn't upset with me...I try very hard but my old legs don't work as well as they used to anymore. The little person is good to me and tries to give me lots of treats but I just don't feel hungry...I hide them so they don't get cross with her. The doctor keeps moving my back legs and touching my back, it hurts so much but I don't want to complain...I don't want her to worry about me. I'm scared for her, she isn't ready to be without me, I have to be strong...I can beat this, I can be a better dog.

I woke feeling a little better although everything is spinning...I can hear the little person and can feel his hand on my head...I must be home...I hope she is here too...

Through Her Eyes IV

I'm pretty tired today, I laid awake waiting for her to go sleep. She arrived home late last night and even let me lay with her on the couch and told me about her trip...I wish I knew what she was saying to me. I wish I could talk to her. I haven't been feeling very well lately, yesterday I peed on the floor but he didn't yell at me...he thinks it's because I'm nervous...I hope he's right. I try my best everyday to wag my tail so they know I am happy. I don't want them to know I haven't been feeling my best lately, she needs me right now and has enough to worry about.

I must have dozed off, I can hear the little one talking to my person...I'm just going to lay here a little longer until they call me out...

Through Her Eyes III

Today I watched her eat, not because I want some but because I rarely see her do it anymore...she pushes it around her plate and every now and then it makes its way to the floor. He always sits with her in the mornings and waits for the little person to come down the stairs. These days she is home more often but when she is gone it feels like forever. I lay under her bed now rather than on my own bed, I can hear her breath and cry but I'm not allowed on the bed so I have to stay under it and cry with her. I think she might be feeling a little better though because sometimes we go outside and I watch her play with the little one and she is showing her how to throw the ball to me.

I remember the day I rescued them, he thought I was picking him because I placed my paw on the back of his leg...but I just needed him to move so she could see me. Our eyes met and I could feel her heart link with mine...I found my person, my soul person...

Through Her Eyes II

Her storms are changing and I can feel a shift in her soul. Her sadness is strong and she barely sees me anymore, it's like she looks right through me but I love her anyway. Sometimes in the mornings she will come and sit on the couch with her computer and allows me to put my head on her lap. I can't talk to her but I can feel her, she needs me, she is my person. She's gone a lot these days but I know she's coming back because he is still here and so is her little person...I take care of the little person when she's gone so she knows the little one will be okay...I wonder if they found the little one where they found me?

My person cries a lot these days and sometimes doesn't change out of her pyjamas until late in the day; I try to take her for walks but she doesn't respond when I bring her my leash so I let the little person walk me around the house. I worry about my person and do my best to be a good dog...

Through Her Eyes

I was finally home after what seemed liked forever; my legs were still a bit stiff but it was a good ache. I found Django laying in the kitchen when I turned-on the light, she was barely able to move her head to greet me but her tail told the story. I leaned down and cradled her in my arms to move her to her extra big pillow. I laid beside her as the big spoon and told her all about my trip while I rubbed her belly. These days I liked to tell her the story of the day she chose us and we brought her home. She was rescued as a new puppy and spent three months in the SPCA before she tapped Dan on the back of his leg and looked at him with her big brown eyes and oversized ears. He carried her up and down the stairs for weeks because she was terrified of them but slowly she built her confidence and started to try on her own. She struggled with separation anxiety and would pee on the floor if I even left to get the mail; it was the first time I realized how similar we were...with the anxiety, not the peeing on the floor. Then a few years later she was diagnosed with a muscle disease but we did all the work and nursed her back to health knowing she would forever have to take a pill and being completely okay in that truth as long as she was comfortable. The last eighteen months hasn't be easy for myself and my family...and here she was laying drugged up to fend off the pain and has done nothing but console me through it all. I'm hoping I'm not too late...I owe her so much...

Writer on the Run XXX

I sat at the gate in LaGuardia and watched the times roll back with delayed signs for my flight knowing that if another ten minutes passed I would not make my connection in Toronto. I reflected back to my class and could see the eyes widening and jaws falling to the floor regarding my open marriage...I decided to not tell about the abuse...I refuse to give that another thought or minute of my life. It happened and I made it through; whatever happens in my life is to my credit or to my fault...but it is mine and all mine. It felt so good to light my life and watch the darkness disappear...I'm okay, actually I feel amazing. It's funny how you can fear the secrets and skeletons coming out but it only healed me. My truth makes others uncomfortable and I can understand and appreciate that because it held me prisoner for so long...but it's no longer my issue, it was a chapter in my life but will not make my book. The beauty of writing is that I decide what I put on paper so although you may read about my affairs in the Big Apple...there won't be a single word about the little girl I kept in the cage.

I waved to Ramone behind the counter, we have become airport friends. Looks like he got me on a different flight with an upgrade...life is amazing and the woman who started that run completely transformed after 26.2 miles. Chin up and eyes forward I have a life to get on with...

Writer on the Run XXIX

Three days later and I still winced every time I had to walk up or down stairs. I had my class tonight and would be leaving bright and early to catch my flight home...I feel like I have been gone for weeks. I'm nowhere near the NY speed for walking and in the Village it seems to be okay. My son made it home safely and was back in his dorm and on the field...I still miss him. I turned down second avenue to walk the last three blocks to my class...then four long flights of stairs up. It was worth it, this time next year and I should be close if not done my book. With every door I remove from my life I feel freer and less afraid...I have no secrets and I don't want any.

She buzzed me in and I stood at the base of the first step for a long pause...it's my turn to read. Not one of my peers knows my story but I'm no longer ashamed to tell it...I am a survivor of sexual abuse, I am not societies definition of a traditional wife and/or mother and I suffer from an anxiety disorder...my darkness no longer exists, it can't...

Writer on the Run XXVIII

I watched him walk down the steps to his train and this is hardly new for us...it was part of our lives for so long. The excitement when I see his face come around the corner for a visit and then the heart sinking feeling when he turns the same corner with a final wave. Seeing his face when I came around the corner in Central Park to finish out the last few hundred meters was everything I needed it to be. I finally walked away and down the long hallway like I was swimming against the salmon...I needed to get to Port Authority to catch my bus to Jersey...I hope Cleopatra isn't going to want a long walk tonight because it's not going to happen. Clarence is back at the firehouse so it's just her and I for a few days...

Writer on the Run XXVII

I slept over thirteen hours and woke feeling like I had been in an car accident. He laughed as I tried to  make my way to the bathroom...not entirely sure how I was going to be able to sit down or get back up. My only hope was the more I moved the looser my muscles became. He was leaving to go back to Montreal this evening and I was heading back to Jersey for the last few days of my trip so I didn't want to spend the day in bed...well I did, but I wanted to spend the day in Manhattan with him more. The bottoms of my feet were raw and full of opened blisters, I was nervous about the shoes I could wear knowing there was no way I was wearing socks or the shoes I used in the race yesterday. I remembered on the bus on the way to Staten Island a gentleman was talking about how he had a 10km race this morning, the day after the marathon...clearly I didn't train well enough.

I looked down the flights of stairs and thought about going down on my bum but I toughed it out and leaned on his shoulders with each step. We decided to slowly walk to Harold Square to shop around and grab a bite to eat. The worst pain by far was at the top of my foot where it met my ankle...with every step I wanted to bang my head on a brick wall...who the fuck does this...and more than once?  Screw it, we're taking the subway...

Writer on the Run XXVI

A whole hour sitting in Century 21 on the West Side while he shops and I writhe in pain. There isn't a cab to be seen and I cannot imagine anything much worse than this. I smell like I ran a marathon and feel like I did...so sitting here waiting for time to pass is just about all I can take. He found a hat and tried on some shirts to pass the time but I had enough and was willing to pay an uber to take me through the Financial District and back up the East side at this point. He waited in line and I walked out the door just in time to step into a cab as someone else stepped out. Luckily by this time the streets were starting to open up again; I didn't care how long it took...I was not getting out of this car until I was in front of my door.

Only 25 minutes for a typical seven minute ride but I didn't care, I was more concerned about the five story walk up I would have to conquer next. I paid the driver and couldn't thank him enough for trying every known street in the area to cross over to the East side. My son grabbed my bag of things from the race and helped me up the stairs...I'm about to spend ten minutes in an ice bath and I'm a touch nervous that I won't be able to ever get out. I walked over to the couch to take off my shoes...knowing they would not be back on my feet for several weeks...if ever again. It hurt more to take them off then walk with them and I have no idea how I will finish out the next week walking around the city. Across the room I could see a bunch of snacks and gifts laid out along with a sign to cheer me on...I love this kid so much...I was too dehydrated to shed another tear but that didn't stop my face from trying...he gets the picture.

I grabbed my towel and made my way to where he had already drawn me an ice cold bath with ice cubes...he sets the timer on his watch...here goes nothing...

Writer on the Run XXV

It's how you finish...and I finished strong. I was met with a lady holding a metal to go around my neck and a gentleman who tried to hand me a bag filled with Gatorade bottles...no thanks, I can barely carry myself let alone ten pounds of liquids. I got pictures taken, congratulated and hugged...what an incredible feeling and accomplishment. Since I opted for the poncho I had to walk to Cherry Hill to claim it which was another mile round trip then I had to climb a few flights of stairs to make my way to Central Park West where he would be waiting for me.

I didn't think I was going to make it even one more block until I could hear him calling me, relief replaced fear. He would carry me if I dropped...I know that much. He and I have an amazing bond that has always been rich in support, love, understanding and kindness. He really made me a better person and continues to challenge me, which isn't always welcome initially but I am so grateful for. We sat on steps while I pulled on his sweat pants and shirt that he brought for me to wear post race...such a gentleman. Now...how the fuck are we going to get to the East Side with all of the roads closed....I couldn't possibly walk...

Writer on the Run XXIV

I felt somewhat rejuvenated as I made my way through Spanish Harlem, until it looked like a game of Mario Kart with all of the banana peels everywhere...add water to the mix and it's now an extreme marathon. I started to count down the blocks knowing where Central Park starts and that I will complete the run on the west side of it. With each mile I could feel my hips tighten and ache, I kept praying that my legs wouldn't give out knowing that it happens all the time to even the most seasoned marathoners. I had almost talked all my confidence back into my mind and body when a women carrying an enormous American Flag complete with the ten foot pole blew by me like I was standing still...I really hope someone handed her that a few blocks ago and she didn't start with it; I was having trouble still holding onto my iPod shuffle. Finally the turn into the park and I was trying my best not to give up mentally knowing I only have three miles left...it may as well be the start line...

We made another right and turned down Central Park South headed for Columbus Circle before we made our last right hand turn and back into the park to finish and come hell or high water....I will sprint across the finish line...my emotions came flooding back when I thought about my son watching me complete with epic day...the chanting begins and the crowd pushes you forward to the finish line.  I took a deep breath and felt the warm tears stream down my face when I made the final turn and entered back into the park.  My son and I walked this the day before so I knew it was close and the tears poured harder. I ran up beside a woman who was struggling with walking and reminded her that she would still be sore tomorrow but she only has this last two hundred metres to finish strong...she smiled through her own tears and did her best impression of a runner.  I looked to my right and locked eyes with my beautiful son...lets' finish this...

Writer on the Run XXVIII

By the time I hit mile seventeen I could feel my legs start to shake so I grabbed a carbo gel from my belt and sucked it back with some water.   I took pics with people holding signs and when I hit the wall at mile 20...I called Dan crying hoping he would tell me to stop but knowing those words would never cross his mind or his lips. I had it in the back of my head that once I crossed the last bridge from the Bronx and into Manhattan I would be on the home stretch but I struggled knowing it would still be another ninety minutes of running. I can't quit...my son is waiting for me at the finish...


Becoming someone who finishes what they start regardless of what lies ahead has been someone I have ached to become...this is the first step...when I cross the finish line I will have no excuses for not crossing it in every other corner of my life. It was a profound moment for me when I realized I had finally become the woman I had respected and loved. I crossed the last bridge, wiped my tears and carried on down Fifth Avenue heading for Central Park...

Writer on the Run XXVII

By the time I crossed the ten kilometer mark I was already feeling sore and only wished that my knee wouldn't get the sharp pinch in it that would make me walk. I could see the people piling up at the meds tent with ever mile and I knew that was not an option for me...if I took off my shoes they would never go back on...those blisters will have to wait until tonight. By mile nine I was sweating and needed to shed my long sleeve shirt but worried what would happen to my bib that held the chip and tracked my progress. I finally found an official and he helped me undress without compromising my run then I tied my shirt around my waist and carried on. I read that if the chip is compromised or if you stray that you would be automatically disqualified and if by chance you still tried to cross the finish line you would then be banned from future marathons...they are not playing around.


I felt nothing but relief when I seen a woman holding a sign that said "Welcome to Queens"...Brooklyn seemed to go on for what felt like forever. The relief was short lived though, the Queensboro Bridge may have as well have been a mountain with the incline...thank goodness the bridges are the only major obstacle. I decided to walk up the one side so I could run down the other and onto 1st Street in Manhattan...halfway over the bridge I can see the 13.1 mile sign and I am halfway done. I wonder how long I can run on just happiness and momentum from realizing that there is no way I will not cross that finish line...I break into stride...

Writer on the Run XXVI

I had read ahead and knew that there would be kilometre markers every five kilometres and mile markers at every marker starting at three. I read that after the three mile mark there would be toilets and water or gatorade at every mile and when we reached the seventeen mile marker you could grab a banana or gel pack to help you from hitting the wall. I wasn't anywhere close to that but knowing it was available as I checked off miles was great.

I wasn't very far into the run when I realized how different training on the treadmill was from running on the pavement...which is unforgiving to my joints. I decided early on that I would drink water at every water station and only drink the gatorade if I felt exhausted or weak.

I could see the streets start to fill up with spectators and still felt amazing when I reached the five kilometre marker. The taxi driver I had this morning told me that there are fifty thousand participants, about twenty three thousand volunteers and over a hundred thousand spectators for the marathon...it didn't even shake me...this is what makes running the NYC so appealing. It occurred to me as I was running through Brooklyn that I have barely ever ventured out into the other boroughs at all...maybe there is more to NYC than just Manhattan...

Writer on the Run XXV

Standing in the gate of the third wave and I felt defeated before I even took my first step. I was standing next to a young man from Calgary, Alberta who signed up while drunk one night then woke up to a charge on his credit card and decided to start training immediately. I stood there anxiously eating his carbohydrate nuggets listening to him tell his story and secretly wishing that when they fired the guns that a bullet would hit me in the foot.

I couldn't hear the shots but the people ahead of me started to move so I wished the group luck and slowly followed. About one hundred metres in and I noticed a young woman laying on the bridge surrounded by other runners...she must have fallen among the group of runners and I was legitimately jealous that she was excused from continuing. The Verrazano Bridge was a brutal start but I felt much better coming down the other side and into Brooklyn...how fucking long is this going to take me...earbuds in, music cranked and waving to the people above the overpass...

Writer on the Run XXIV

I woke at 4m and quietly got dressed and grabbed all of my passes, identification, bankcard and phone after I finished eating my breakfast. I barely slept last night but didn’t think I would anyway. I sat in silence on the couch for about fifteen minutes staring at the clock and trying to calm my nerves, too afraid to move in case I lost my breakfast. I could see my son sleeping just across the room, I wouldn’t see him again until I crossed the finish line and the thought started to make me feel emotional on top of anxious. I walked over and kissed his face softly hoping he wouldn’t wake and carefully grabbed the spare set of keys making sure they didn’t jingle.

I stepped out onto East 72^nd street and hailed a cab at the corner to take me to my bus that will take me to Staten Island. I don’t think I ever remember seeing the streets of New York so quiet and empty…it was almost eerie.

I got out on the street lined with buses and hundreds of people wearing the same jersey as myself. I felt proud to raise money for the youth of the city I love. I walked over to the crowd around the man standing on the steps and using a megaphone to direct everyone. My nerves started to settle as I talked to the people around me and learned that I wasn’t the least prepared person that showed up.

I was standing next to a young woman running for the first time as well and just so happened to be on my bus…it was relieving to have someone to at the very least walk to the gate with before running our own races…