chapter 4: part 2

continued from chapter 4: part 1
Yes, we were doing a lot of the “right” things; we went to cancer self-help group meetings, shared experiences and listened to many stories with happy endings. We updated our wills and cleaned up estate matters. On the surface we were behaving like responsible, coping people handling a tough period in our lives.

We’re still talking about a short period here, before Hal's first visit with the Oncologist.

Then craziness popped into our discussions that began out of nowhere, and could have been titled, “Where will Pat live and what will she do if Hal dies sooner rather than later?” It is a valid question but I was displaying that chronic inner dilemma: “ I’m helpless: how can I manage on my own?”

This question was worth a passing moment or more to think out but we carried it to extremes. We were living with the possibility that Hal might die of this cancer and there was some logic to what we were doing, but we could have just talked about it and made sure there was a general plan. We took it further. We corralled all the nearby children and we all set to work looking for a place for me to live, “afterward.”

I had been born in Vancouver and although I was now a firmly committed easterner, I never stopped missing the ocean. That became the project; find a small place at the edge of the water for the future widow lady. We lived in Toronto, located on the shores of disagreeably polluted Lake Ontario. I was surprised to learn that there actually were places on the lake still for sale despite the foolishness of swimming, fishing or even sitting too close.

The children branched out and took Sunday drives and so did we, away from the city center. We looked at all kinds of cottages, some winterized and some not. We glumly studied shacks with wood-burning stoves or space heaters, places with chemical toilets, land that squished under our feet from non-functioning septic tanks. They all had one thing in common. They were shacks and somehow it seemed right to me that I should live in shabby surroundings since throwing oneself on a funeral pyre was out of favor in Canada.

We should have taken a cue from the fact that every time we set out on a search the skies turned leaden; never a hint of sun or blue sky. Eventually some sort of reason returned to us and we all finally agreed we shouldn’t make any sudden decisions. Besides, I owned too much stuff to fit into a small cottage and Hal was feeling too fit to toss in the towel. There was also a niggling thought in my head that this assignment wasn’t really about getting on with life.

The kids were relieved to return to spending their weekends as they pleased and we returned to a less frenzied pace.

continued in Chapter 4: part 3