Moving Through the New Year at Breakneck Speed

And ye, who have met with Adversity's blast,
And been bow'd to the earth by its fury;
To whom the Twelve Months, that have recently pass'd
Were as harsh as a prejudiced jury -
Still, fill to the Future! and join in our chime,
The regrets of remembrance to cozen,
And having obtained a New Trial of Time,
Shout in hopes of a kindlier dozen.
~Thomas Hood

These first days of the new year are flying by in a whirlwind of activity. On New Year's Eve three of Jacob's friends came to spend the night at our house. Once they were duly fed, as is our custom, Merv and I walked down the street to ring in the new year with our friends Brian and Geraldine. After a few glasses of champagne, I collapsed into bed at about 2:00 A.M. It had been a long and hectic day - cooking, shopping and cleaning. At about 3:00 P.M. that afternoon, we had made the decision to host a small open house on New Year's Day.

Throwing together a gathering for our twenty guests required a considerable amount of work so I rose early on New Year's day. By ten o'clock I had cleaned up from feeding the boys the night before and was cooking for the party. At 11:00 I made breakfast for the boys - French toast, two pounds of bacon and a whack of eggs. That, of course, meant I had to clean up the breakfast remnants before I could get back to cooking. It turned out I didn't have a single spare moment through the day. It felt like a triumph to get everything done in time for the guests to arrive. I expected people to join us for an hour and then move on to their own plans but most came at 4:00 P.M. and didn't leave until close to 9:30. I put the food away, loaded the dishwasher and collapsed.

Saturday found me with the desire for a pajama day but that wasn't in the cards. Stan's birthday party was scheduled for 6:30. I did a little bit of shopping, applied as much under-eye circle concealer as possible without using a trowel, pulled myself together and headed to Cath and Stan's. It was a fun party with a lot of karaoke singing - our friend Frank's version of "When I'm 64" being the highlight. At about 11:30 we headed home where I really wanted to collapse. But the cup of non-decaf coffee I stupidly drank at 9:00 o'clock played havoc with my ability to sleep. I finally headed to the land of Nod shortly after 2:00 A.M.

Today, as on every other Sunday, I headed to Mom's nursing home to spend a bit of time with her. She has had a really tough week. She has another major chest cold and she suffered a fall last week. She is isolated in her room, fairly uncommunicative and out-of-sorts. I did successfully feed her a couple of small oranges and she drank some ginger ale which gave me considerable pleasure. After an hour with her, Cath and I headed off to the overpass on Victoria Park where we joined a few dozen other people to pay our respects to the passing motorcade on the Highway of Heroes. Sadly, five Canadians (four soldiers and one journalist) were repatriated this afternoon, all casualties of the war in Afghanistan. It was a bitter cold day and the motorcade passed more than an hour after the expected time. I was wearing a warm jacket, hat and hood and two pairs of gloves. I covered my face with a scarf. My feet, clad in socks and lined boots were absolutely freezing. There was a point when I wondered if I could wait it out in the minus 20 degree weather but I did. It was a sad, sad procession - at least a dozen police cars and twenty limousines. Dozens of frozen observers stood on the highway overpass in silence - all there for their own reasons. We don't talk about how we see the war - whether we support it or believe it is futile. Some are there because their sons and daughters are serving. Others because they've lost people dear to their hearts. Some are themselves soldiers, police officers, fire fighters or paramedics. As for me, I'm there for the mothers. I don't want them to think no one cares about their lost children. I believe it is time to bring our troops home. I don't want to stand on the overpass anymore. I don't want there to be any more heartbroken mothers traveling in limousines on frozen highways as solemn strangers wave their flags in tribute to their fallen children. We've lost so many. Please God, no more.