Letter of October 10, 2009 - Dad

(06/2005 © gelisa)
In this beautiful afternoon of automn, I went to the cemetery where my dad was buried 30 years ago, and all my memories are coming back on this anniversary day.

My friend reader, you did not know him. Dad was a successful businessman and he was also very handsome and good speaker. He had even been approached to work with municipal politics, but he refused. He told us he did not want to join in their "games". His rules for living were well defined, making him a man of integrity, fair and good.

One of the most engaging memories of Dad is his odor when he was comming back from his construction site, the smell of sawdust mixed with the one of putty. He was always wearing a large lead pencil on his right ear. At evening, after dinner, he was retiring in his office with a cup of tea to handle the company accounts and to do some reading. Often I was following him in his world, in this part of the basement, witness of his businessman and inventor life. There, we could not hear the animation of the house, only the sounds of the paper punch, the big calculator and the rustle of fine paper bills. Dad let me play with his calculator and I could not believe that machine could memorise all the addition and multiplication tables. Don't ask me how it works.

Mechanical calculator

When my dad had finished his office work, he was taking a book or the encyclopedia and studied. Everyone said that Dad was a self-taught and it seemed to me it was like quite an honor, they even said about him that he had knowledge of an engineer. I also wanted to be a self taught like him and I loved rummaging through his books when he was not there.

On Sunday, at home, was a sacred day. Early in the morning, Dad was cooking, and he was making a big pot of soup. He was also preparing a roast beef to cook before leaving for church. Mom was dressing us with our best clothes and we were all crammed into the big Pontiac. The Sunday morning Mass was very important but it was so boring, besides, my mom was watching me closely to stand straight and I keep quiet. Dad was always sitting on the edge of the driveway, ready to go out with one of us for a need. Let's say it was also to go talking business with others and to smoke a cigaret on the porch of the church.

After lunch it was the car ride. First of all, Dad was going at the construction site to ensure there had been no vandalism at night. Sometimes he was letting us climb on the first floor. It was quite an adventure for us. There were no walls and large holes in the floors. After visiting the site, he was taking us to a picnic or at the beach or on a vacant lot, probably the site of a new project. I preferred the empty lots. We could always find a small pond of tadpoles, grasshoppers and clumps of daisies. I liked so much to weave wreaths of daisies and my brother to fill jars of tadpoles for fishing.

But all this is now so far. I found us gathered around the grave of dad and none of my brothers speak of his memories. They have not experienced the same man, the one of my memory because they were too young. They only remember of a man embittered by so many disappointments and sentenced by arteriosclerosis, a disease that gradually destroys the tissues and cells of the nervous system, often associated with memory problems and with emotional . Today I have my Dad's age when he passed away and I have not done one tenth of what he has done.

Now I think a lot about him, in my toughts, I cry often for him, of all he could endure, of the incomprehension of his family, and I feel he is close to me, I'm sitting on his lap and I hear he's saying:

-" I told thee that there was nothing after death, but this is not true, I have found peace and I am living in the Hereafter"

-"Dad, this is my dearest wish. Sleep well."

Thank you for following me so far. Go outdoor and see how beautiful it is outside and enjoys the last beautiful autumn days.

Gelisa

This photo was taken in the park near my home. (10/2007 © gelisa)

Letter of September 23, 2009 - The baptism

Letter of September 23, 2009

Dear friend,

I wanted to write you this letter quickly but It took me so long to finish it. I had no time since the beginning of September. Henry and I have had to travel several times at my son's place in north and prepare ourselves for the baptism of Benoit. Our religious beliefs are not really warm but we have still agreed to be godparents. We needed to provide a confirmation certificate, though it is not necessary to be married. I could not remember which parish I was registered, I had to call several places and most offices are open only a few hours during the week, so I had to make my application by mail and they have asked me to pay in advance. These people are eager to pass the quest but when you need their service, the door is locked. My dear Henry, had to call his parish in Gaspesia and they sent the certificate by mail.

At the catechesis meetings, I had the opportunity to better know Maryse. She appears to me as a woman very resolute and determined. She expressed her desire for marriage with Matthew, and she would also want him to adopt her eldest son. I may be wrong, but I feel much eagerness on his part and I do not find very affectionate. At first, I was worried but I finally calmed myself down. My son is no longer a baby after all and there must be something nice between them two to engage together in doing a family. My son took several months to consider before going live with them. Yes, them!. He now lives with Maryse, her kid and also with Maryse's mother, Mireille. And if he was wrong? He knows I'm always there for him, but would he confide to me if something was going wrong?

My son has now resumed contact with his father, Serge. Again, it's another shock to learn he's seeing his father, finally, after twenty-seven, he shows some interest in his only son and he also learns he will be grandpa. The handsome Serge ...... I had erased him from my life. During all these years, he did not showed interest in Mathieu, he has never paid pension, he was seeing him only at the new year partys, and when Serge's mother died, no more news. You know, dear reader, all this family was in discord and their good mother could managed to unite them. When Matthew was in his twenties, he had found his father but he quickly stopped to visit him. I had asked him about this and he only said he would not see his father any more. I have no idea of what happened.

So, after all these years, I saw the handsome Serge, with his wife. Yes, he got married recently, and he regretted not having invited Matthew to his wedding. Age has worked on him and he was not as handsome as before. He was happy to see my family, he knows them all, my mother, who loved him so much, my sister Francoise and her husband, Lucien, also Madeleine. At that time, I was having a nice life with Serge, there were ups and downs, like everybody, it was normal. I was pregnant with Matthew when my sister Francoise got married to Lucien and they were having an apartment in our neighborhood. We invited them often to dinner and we spent happy evenings with them. Serge had a good salary, enough so that I do not work, and I was very proud of us, of our home. He even bought a piano for me.

And everything has plummeted, deteriorated, broke, fell to pieces, mixed with tears and regrets. Drugs, drinking, jealousy, and violence have destroyed my blond angel. I had to leave, escorted by police, and I have entered the darkest years of my life. Matthew was only two and a half years when I left, I had no job, no furniture, I could even not take my piano. We were not married and everything was in his name. Shortly after I left, another woman had taken my place. I had no desire to fight and I decided to start from scratch. Nobody could understand, my sister Francoise has moved away from me and my mother was unable to help me, following the death of father. When I saw Serge at the church, memories of violence and tears were back in my memory, but I have closed that door in my mind. I did not want these memories come back right away, we must celebrate the baptism before all things.

Benoît wore a beautiful gown baptism. It looked like a little angel, you know, everybody wanted to hold him and he liked it. We was looking at us seriously, with his big blue eyes and he then bestowed his very best smile. I think he took this jovial side from his mother. He is so adorable, he has not cried once, and that, he took it from my son Matthew.

On the left, Mathieu in his christening gown. Right, Benoit in his christening gown

This event was very importance to parents. It gave to the grandparents of both sides the opportunity to meet together, those separated by life and new spouses. The atmosphere was almost like a wedding, while the two families met for the first time. They had reserved tables at the restaurant to celebrate the event with joy and I must say that it was a success. Mathieu was well dressed for the occasion and I was seeing him in tie and coat for the first time. I would say that Maryse was very proud of her small world, everyone was very handsome.

My sister Frances and her husband Lucien were sitting with Serge and his wife, they were all happy about see each other and had much to tell. So much the better because, I am telling you, it is not me who would have fueled the conversation. I could not hide my surprise to see him married and happy. Well, good for them, but many questions remain unanswered. Does my Mathieu will have the rightful place alongside his father. I do not really believe in it.

I am telling you, my son is a real mother hen, he looks after Benoit, he feeds him, changes the diapers. He is so happy with his paternity and Martin, the eldest son of Maryse cared deeply about Mathieu. He also deals with this child as if he were his own son. After the meal, and gifts, we were anyway very happy to go back our home, there is more than an hour to drive from north up to home. We had left Charlie alone and at our arrival, he urgently need to do his evening walk.

I hope I did not bothered to much, I needed to express my ups and down of this memorable day and I will conclude my letter with these words of Honoré de Balzac: " I can forgive, but I cannot forget ".

I'll write again soon with more news about my volunteer work, memories and I would also like to introduce you Henry, who makes me so happy.

Kisses and see you soon, Thou who goes on my pages.

Gelisa

Letter of September 4, 2009 - My Volunteering

Letter of September 4, 2009

Dear friend!

Well, there it is! I can announce it to you now. I joined the group of volunteers from the hospital. You know, those people who donate their time and raise funds for the activities of residents of the hospital. The average age of this group of volunteers is around 75 years and I confess that this is not the attractiveness that brought me there.

Behind this decision there is a story I would like to share with you. To start you knew that mom has always played music, often with groups. She accompanied the entertainers and choirs at festivals and homes for elders. Mom had to give up her activities one by one to keep only the one of the Association of Volunteers. She now plays at the organ and she accompany the choir at the religious office, on Saturdays and Wednesdays. This activity allows her to go out twice a week.

And now mom has mobility problems, she must walk with a cane, which makes her more irritable and she also began to panic: "There is no question that I leave this activity," she said "I'm not senile yet, you know! I am just having trouble walking. The day I will no longer go play music in the chapel of the hospital is that I'm in one of it's beds. "

Have you ever came at home? You would have found the house very big, with its 7 rooms and also the basement to maintain. But Mom is quite resourceful and has managed to get the label "disabled" which allows her to use paratransit services and she is also entitled to subsidized domestic help. It's good for her morale. She was embarrassed to receive people when her household was not done, even us, her childrens. We suggested, very gently so as not to offend, to go live in a senior home, it's smaller and she would have services nearby, but she would not absolutely want of that. She was afraid of not doing what she loves above all, play the piano, and at any time of day or night. She also has always lived in this house and she is accustomed to his neighborhood. I tried make her a visit more often, but again, I did not always felt myself welcome, perhaps because the household has not been done and she was feeling monitored.

So we were all a little worried, everyone on our side, with no daring to speak about it, and at Easter, when all the family was reunited, Francoise has addressed the issue. My sister, Francoise, is always at ease discussing some hot topics. She is the diplomat of the family and our mom makes her a full confidence. Francoise has had the idea to register herself as a volunteer at the hospital, to help our mother in her activity. Many residents are paralyzed and in a wheelchair and the volunteer's task is to lead them to the chapel and, after mass, bring them back to their room. My sister, is also assisting our mother in the distribution the song's books. She told me she wanted to experiment volunteering and finally, she told me she likes to do it. She has found the recognition she can not find in her workplace and she is so very happy.

A few weeks ago, I offered to replace Francoise so she could take a leave if necessary. It seems that my proposal was appropriate, as she wanted to go to Quebec city with her handsome husband, Lucien, for their 35th wedding anniversary. So I also gave my name as a volunteer, to the delight of organizers who are seeking replacement. So I attended several times at the pastoral activity and I have learned what were my sister's tasks, I have discovered that I enjoy singing. Volunteering allows me to do some different things and it provides me with new experiences that I will use later in my writing.

For example: Before the Mass, we are entitled to a free dinner with the chaplain. Those people of another generation have discussions rather curious and piquant, Ouch!, I prefer not to intervene, but I feel I'll have fun listening to them.

Since the spring, organizers are seeking someone who can work at the gift shop, a few hours on Sunday. I think I'll offer my services. I've never done that and I'd like to learn to use a cash register. We never know, maybe, when I'll retire, I will have some customers with a store, so I will know how this kind of business does work.

I'll write to you again to share with you some details of my daily life. It makes me feel good, you know, it's important for me to know that you're reading me.

Kisses and see you soon .....

Sincerely, Gelisa

This is a photo of my Mom that I took during the Christmas holidays last year.
She is 87 years old. She really doesn't look her age, isn't she?
She is very proud of us, having us besides her.

Letter of September 2, 2009 - Hello You!

Letter of September 2, 2009

Hello You!

I finally took the pen to make you a regular correspondence. I'm not a writer or a poet, but I love writing and I have so much to tell you, without restraint or fear of being judged, dear You, my friend passing thru this blog. This is something I've wanted to do for a long time, but where will I start.

I saw the nurse today, do not worry, I'm not sick, I do some blood pressure and my doctor follows me tightly on it. This is age, I suppose, and stress at work. You thought I was retired, I am enlightens you, I'm still working and I still have four years to do before my retiring, exactly 1390 days. I have install a counter on my Google page. I work as an administrative assistant in a logistics company, but my boss present me as "the controller". He says this is important for his business. Thus, it shows visitors that I controle his spending and that the company is well managed.

But this is not the reason why I write to you today, I'll tell you more about my work in another letter. I wanted to tell you that I am a grandmother of a wonderful little boy, Benoit, who was born last December. Here is his photo.

It happened very quickly, my son, Mathieu has finally decided to leave his Julie after seven years together. His dream was to have kids. He left Sarah, after she did an abortion of their baby. I have learned this much later, I also learned my son was very upset and he was depressive. Then he met Julie at the factory where he worked. They moved together. It seemed to me she was a suitable girl and he was apreciated in her family. They have often spoken of their desire to have children but Julie never became pregnant. I see that their relationship goes adrift. A few months after Christmas 2007, it quick I'm telling you, I learn that Mathieu has left her for an old classmate, Maryse, already mother of a 4 years old boy.

Their first visit was to announce me she was pregnant. I fell off my chair. I did not know that girl. I hope when my son knows what he does. And they asked me and my dear Henry, to be the godparents of this little boy, of course, we were very much happy.

I have so much to tell you, I will write you again with more news from me, from us, with ideas and memories. I hope my small letters are pleasing you, it's important for me to know that you read me.


Much hugs! ;-) I will write you very soon again.

Your friend, Gelisa