Monday, May 23, 2016

Me & Emil

"Mom. Are you going to stay in your pyjamas all day?"

This is a question Emil quite often asks me when he is here on a weekend, as I'm in no hurry to get dressed. Yesterday, for instance, I slept till nearly 11 after being up till one the night before, and then I was busy making fagioli soup and doing dishes and talking to my ex, Emil's dad, on the phone. Who had time to get dressed before three o'clock? I'd even been outside in the perennial bed, pulling weeds and quackgrass, in my fluffy green housecoat. Living on the farm — what freedom!

Emil phones me most Thursday nights, if he and his gang are not off at a dance somewhere or busy with some other activity that runs late.

His opening statement is always, "I had a good day at work today."

His typical questions:

"Do you have your pyjamas on right now?"
"Are you wearing your glasses?"
"Is Scott home?"
And usually, "What did you have for supper?"

Emil reading to me.
Recently I decided he needed more variety in reading material so I have been bringing home books from the library for him. He has his own collection of old favourites that he looks at, whether he's at the group home or here, and when I suggested getting library books he didn't seem interested. He likes the ones he has and prefers to avoid change of any sort. However, I still think new and different books would be a good thing for him. His reading skills are at the level of a student in Grade 1, though I've been surprised at how well he actually does read. And I'm hoping that in time his skill level will rise, although if they couldn't achieve that in all the years he went to school and had special-needs teachers and one-on-one time with aides, maybe it's just not going to happen.

The point is, books broaden your perspective and enrich your life, and I want both for him.

He's enjoying the books. That's no surprise; he's loved books since he was a wee babe in my arms who could only point at the bookshelves whenever I carried him into the livingroom, and if I didn't sit down and read one to him, he'd cry.



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Lorna has left a new comment on your post "They Know Where I Live": 
when we were in the grocery store, the woman ahead of us had bought a huge amount of food, but left her points card at home, so she offered the points to us. It was a pleasant surprise and a generous offer.I wish I'd had something to offer her in return, but we just smiled at each other for the looooooooong time it took to get her groceries packed. 

People are goodhearted and will help when they see a way to do so. 
I find it difficult to make the connection between what I hear about in the news — terrorism, murder, rape, theft, and on it goes — and what I see in my own life. 
Dad and I were talking about this the other night on the phone. I think the topic of the moment was domestic violence by men against women and children. I said the extent of it even in Canada is so shocking; you and I, were we raised in a bubble or what? "Maybe we're bubbleheads," he said.
Because to us, it's so unthinkable it's like it can't be real. Yet we can't argue with the statistics; they can't be that skewed.




Jenna Doodle




Birdie has left a new comment on your post "Goodbye Jenna": 
I was just clicking around in blogland and came across your post. Even though it is my first time here I couldn't jest leave without saying something. 
Losing a pet is so hard. In our brains it should be so easy because it is just a dog/cat. But our hearts know so much better. Pets offer us so much love and acceptance. They just love us because of who we are and not who we should be. That is the reason it hurts to much. You are losing a best friend. 
Sending love to you and your family. 

I hope that clickable link there leads to your blog, Birdie, so I can check it out.
Thank you for the kind words. 



Annette Erickson has left a new comment on your post "Goodbye Jenna": 
I'm so sorry to hear this Kate. Made me tear up as I read your post. It's so hard to lose a pet that's been at your side for so many years and yes, of course, we deeply feel the void when their presence is no longer there. I know I'll be facing the loss of my cat soon and I dread the thought. Goodbye Jenna. 

And wouldn't it be somewhat easier if they -- if we and all our loved ones -- just died in our sleep? But maybe not. I know it helps to have a chance to say goodbye.