Zombie easter

Well, on Easter Sunday I watched two zombie movies with my daughter, her boyfriend, and some of their friends. I have never watched a zombie movie before. You see, you can still do new things at 55.

Earlier that day we went to the Maritime Museum on the Halifax waterfront. There were some wonderful exhibits, but I was mostly fascinated with the Halifax explosion,December 6, 1917 and the rescue missions out of Halifax for the Titanic victims, April 15, 1912. It is unfathomable to me (no pun intended) how life goes on despite such disasters. How people pick themselves up and carry on. How cities are rebuilt. How families are re-united, or not. How someone can lose everything and still there is this spirit in most of us that says....ok, let's go on.

Today, I listened to two people I love very much have a conversation. Well, it started as a conversation, then seemed to veer off-course into something else. A fight? Perhaps it could be called that, but what I heard from the other room, as the observer, was two people trying to be heard, trying to be understood, trying to be seen. Each was feeling the other wasn't hearing them, or understanding them or seeing them. And they were both right. And they were both wrong. At different points in the discussion they were both in tears, or one, or the other was in tears. And they just kept soldiering through it. I admire them both deeply for that.

I tend to not soldier through hard discussions. I tend to run. I tend to shut down. I tend to bury my head in the sand, or in a crossword puzzle, or a knitting project, or a tv show. I hate conflict. I always have. Lying in bed this morning listening to these two dear souls, I thought of the fights I used to listen to my parents have. They were awful, loud, mean fights.....and they never changed into anything else. Not to tears, not to resolution, but to stony silience that would last for days.

But these two? They persevered. It didn't necessarily end perfectly, but there was an honestly about two souls struggling to be heard. And what they were both saying, without either of them saying it, is I love you. I want to help you. I want you to be proud of me. I want you to forget the past and see me for now, for today.

So, what on earth do I think this blog is doing: morphing from zombies to disasters to conflict to resolution.

Well, when everything around us is gone. When the threats of the world are coming at us from all the dark corners, all we really have is each other.

Sometimes it is messy. Sometimes it is loud. Sometimes, the moment the connection can be found, it is glorious.

And sometimes, as painful as it is to watch loved ones in conflict, sometimes I have to remind myself - this is not my conflict. This is their conflict. This is their struggle. You, my dear, have to stay the hell out of it.

Now, where did I put that knitting.......

just write something, damn it!

Sometimes I find myself aimlessly checking my email account. Nothing. Checking facebook. Nothing new. Checking friends' blogs. Perusing. Then realizing, I am meant to blog myself. So what am I waiting for?

Waiting for inspiration? Waiting until I have something brilliant to say? Waiting to see if the angst will subside and the humour will rise?

So, with nothing particular to say I will blither (blother?) on.

I went camping this weekend. I was having a very low day on Friday, and finding myself in the bathtub (again) I heard Brian come home.

Me: (pathetically) Do you want to go camping?

Him: (hesitantly) Ya, we can do that.

So, an hour later, there we were at our favourite spot. Of course it is less favourite in the spring and summer because there are lots of campers, and all the ocean front spots are taken by the new reservation rules. Never - the - less, there we were.

My dear husband got it into his head that heading to the nearest town/bar to watch the hockey game would be fun. Fun? I grumbled, thinking, how fun will a noisy, crowded Friday night bar be. Well, as it turned out, alot! So we had fun, and then headed back for a campfire before bed.

As often happens when I am 'low' we got into a bit of a squabble around that campfire. After 35 years together our squabbles seem to often centre around certain themes. This was the 'we can never plan anything' theme. It's true. We can't. Yet, it seemed hopeless to discuss it so late when I was already feeling so vulnerable.

So, off to bed in my cozy camper. And the day dawned, the birds were out enmasse and coffee around the morning campfire was perfect and comforting.

We invited some friends up for dinner and a campfire and headed to town to buy steaks. (Well, the husband was in charge of the steaks as I headed to the wool store to cheer myself up!).

Thy day threatened rain and sun throughout, but by the time our friends arrived the fire was going and the steaks ready to cook. It was a lovely evening. They are newish friends, but very good company, and the four of us are able to talk and laugh comfortably. That is a very good thing.

This morning the sky was blue, the birds were out, and the coffee was delicious as we sat on the edge of the beach.

Home by 12:30, a fabulous shower, and now awaiting the next canucks game. Due to my severely failing eyesight I can't actually 'see', the game, but I knit, and cheer as I listen to the announcers and all their endless stats.

Tomorrow we will start to pack for our trip out east. I can't wait to see our girl - all grown up and graduating from university.

Tomorrow I will start to fret about the packing, and the travelling, but once I am on the plane it will all be fine. It always is.

So, you see? Nothing spectacular here. This is my life. Not spectacular, but comfortable, and comforting.

Oh, and also, by the way, for those of you reading this, for those of you in my life - thank you. Thank you for your friendship, your teasing, your laughter, and your conversation. Even if it is occasional, or 'only' on facebook. It's important to me. This feeling of connection is important.

I am a lucky person. I am grateful for all the people in my life.