How to Turn 40

This weekend, the most cruel thing ever happened. I haven't been down to see my best friend in almost a year. I came down to go to a music festival that we were going to attend together along with her children. My friend looks after her father. He lives on his own since his wife, my friend's mother, died three years ago. He's older, and not in good health, and very lonely. He wasn't very excited that I was there because it meant he'd be alone for the weekend, but I'd like to think he was glad, on some level, that his daughter was going to relax a little and enjoy a weekend for the first time in a while. Not that she minded watching her father. He called her and his two grandchildren his three little nurses...He was a stable, good being in her life. He was a good man...I say was.

He called my friend while we were at the festival. When were we leaving, to bring him a coffee and have the girls say good-night to him? Soon, my friend assured him. Soon afterwards we headed for the car...The cell rang. We thought it was her ex...she didn't answer. She did check the message immediately, however. It was emergency rescue. There had been a fire at her father's house. It had started about the time we'd left the event. He had been rushed to the hospital in critical condition, so they said. When she called back they asked her to go to the house first...When we arrived, fresh from having a good time at the festival, enjoying ourselves for the first time in we couldn't remember how long, they told my friend her father had passed away. They came and told me as I stood there with her two girls. We'd been at the house earlier that day, early afternoon. The girls ran in with lunch and dinner for him, Pepsi, some other assorted groceries...They did some recycling. They'd all said their "I love you"s. My friend stayed in the car with me. That was only how many hours ago? Now he was gone...his cats were gone...the house was gone...All like that. He was older, he was ill...why couldn't he have passed away quietly in his sleep? Why did this have to happen? Why a fire???

Well, my friend had to answer question after question for the police, for the firechief, for emergency rescue. I stayed with the girls to comfort them. How were they all holding together as well as they were??? Strong, strong little ones, those girls...ten and twelve and more together than 99% of us adults. My friend...she's strong...she learned it from her father and mother, she taught it to her wonderful children. They wanted my friend at the hospital to answer some questions...I drove us over because she was in no condition to drive. We picked up her husband...I could smell the alcohol on his breath...He's an alcoholic and drug addict who hasn't lived at home in a year and a half. I couldn't tell if he was high. I couldn't tell if anyone else noticed he'd been drinking. My friend's father never liked him. They wouldn't let her see him. The fire was under investigation. He'd most likely died of smoke inhalation...he was only burned slightly. She needed to see him and they wouldn't let her. I drove her husband home, I drove us to a hotel.

In the morning, they went to their house to get some clothes just to be in familiar surroundings. My friend let her husband borrow the car. He didn't bring it back until way after he said he was going to. She came and picked me up...She'd had a huge fight with her husband. She told him that she couldn't believe he'd do something like that after what she'd seen in the past 12 hours. We went to the mall. The kids were sad, they were upset, but they were calm...they were dealing. My friend, the same thing. I was so sad for them that I was the one crying...yeah, they needed ME to be crying over their loss...They ended up comforting ME at one point. Again, their strength amazed me. We went back to the hotel...I went in, they went home again...My friend went to her father's house. One of the cats had made it out and was at Animal Control along with the bodies of the others...She couldn't see any of them either. She didn't even know which cat it was that lived.

I e-mailed my husband. He e-mailed right back sending his love, support and condolences. Why doesn't my friend have a husband like mine - someone supportive? I watched a movie on Movies on Demand...The Devil Wears Prada...it wasn't that great...or maybe it was all catching up to me by then. My friend showed up some time later. We decided to go see a movie...Pirates, the second one...She and the ten year old fell asleep during it. I didn't wake them. The older one and I watched and she laughed. It was good to see her laugh...We'd been laughing all day on Saturday before the fire...They're strong and they're funny - that whole family.

We all stayed in the hotel again. We laughed a little, we cried a little, we drove up to drop me off at the ferry together. We had a tearful goodbye. Her brother was going to fly in that night.

How is any of that fair??? She's been through too much already. To have her Dad pass away would be tough enough...but in a fire??? A fire that destroyed all their memories??? A fire that took the lives of all the pets save one??? Not right...not fair...why her????

The girls started school today. They will go in there and act like nothing in the world is bothering them because they're strong and they can...They will come home, learn the latest from the Mom, my friend and they will cry some more...She says she's glad I was there with her through this. I say I wish I was stronger and could do more for her. She says I have been there and that's all she's needed. It's not fair...

I get a call right before I leave work hearing that K and the new girl friend are at home. They've just travelled across Canada by bus from Montreal where life was beginning to fall apart for K. I can hear the tension in G’s voice already. OK, G’s girl friend was there, so maybe there’s some stress between the two women, and that’s all it is…Yeah, I wish!

I get there and the new girl friend is up in the bathroom, screaming orders at K, who is quietly telling me that she’s really missing home and her sister, and after three days on a bus is tired and cranky and hot. I go into the other room and ask G’s girl friend what has been going on. Supposedly, this new girl friend walks into the house, has a fit that there isn’t a room with a closet for her to hang her closes and for them to “retire” to (We moved to a smaller place when K, the younger one, moved to Montreal with an "I'm never coming home!" and G was living with his mother...the place is large enough for a couple, a cat and a dog...that's about it). She’s so upset that she asks G’s girl friend to make her tea!!!! Hello? You just get there and you’re ordering people about? G’s girl friend doesn’t even live there!!! So, anyhow, she’s told she can make her own (good for G’s girl friend who is usually too quiet and polite to say anything like that!).

New girl friend is getting stuff together and asks for sugar. Well, I got rid of the baking supplies before I left – including sugar. We have Splenda in the house, but not sugar. We don’t use it, so we’ve just never got any for the new house. So, the first things she says to me when she comes down the stairs, after hello, was “What kind of house doesn’t have sugar in it? I need it for my tea!” (you have to image a pouty child whining that at you to get the right effect). That was followed up by her looking out at the patio saying, “It’s the tiniest yard EVER!”. K, good call on his part, dragged her out of the house at this point, with her running in and out and in and out again wondering which sweater to take and should she have just one or two.

So, K and girl friend get back around 11 and K says, “So, I need a key” I said, “That’s nice…here’s the thing…I need to take the dog out, and I lock the door after myself. I get up in the morning and take her out again…need my key. Then, I’m at work. After work I’m going to want to get into the house…I need my key” He has a fit that we didn’t think to make him an extra. Girl friend comes out, glares at me with an “I’ll show YOU!” look that you get from teenaged girls and says, “Well, we’ll just KNOCK when we get back” I asked when they’d be back, SHE says “Late…2 or so” I said to Kenny, “Um, no…see, I work…I need to sleep, and I won’t have you waking me up” She’s looking at me like she can’t BELIEVE that I would put my need to sleep above her need to…what were they doing? Oh, visiting people after 11 at night…right….So K has a fit about first-night-here-and-can’t-even-go-out-and-see-people. I reminded him that he wasn’t on vacation, and that it was late, and that I had a life that had to continue one way or the other thank-you-so-very-much. I gave him that look that said “One more thing and I’m going off on your ass, in front of your girl friend or not, I don’t really care!”

I get up this morning…first thing, before I look towards anything for myself, I take out the dog…On my way to get the leash, what is my first human contact of the morning??? Yep, the girl friend, asking me do I have a blanket for her, but not a thick blanket cause it’s way too hot down there in the living room where they have to sleep…I think at that point I was supposed to offer her my room. Not going to happen…I said, “I have to take the dog out and then I’ll see what I can find” She actually stomped her anorexic little foot at me!!!!! It’s a good thing she did too cause she looked down and saw K’s little blankie and told me that would due (like I care at this point!). I took out the dog, showered, and ran out the door….Sorry, I know this is a book…I just needed to vent…What DO you do when you HATE your kids new girl friend, and she’s crashed in your overcrowded home????

Easter has past me by without much more than a nod. There was no colourful Easter egg hunt at my home. There were no baskets overflowing with candy. There was no glazed ham dinner complete with all the trimmings. I was a woman in the depths of PMS...So much so that even my DH realized, a day after the actual holiday, that I had been denied something so easily available at this time of year, and essential to HIS well being during times of PMS...chocolate. Not that this fact escaped me, my DH trotted off to the store to purchase some 1/2 off chocolate...he found a darling little bear with "Love Bear" printed on the box. Proudly he came in the door and presented me with his little treat...I looked at him. I looked at the box. I looked at him while I opened the box...I smashed that little bear's smiling chocolate face into a dozen little pieces and nibbled happily away with a fiendish smile on my face. My DH slowly backed out of the room. Husbands, please remember, for your own safety, that holidays that involve chocolate should always be observed...and they must be observed with pomp and ceremony during times of PMS!!! Not only must they be observed with pomp and ceremony during these times, but they must be lead by YOU...You CAN make a dinner (or better yet, take your loved one out to enjoy someone elses cooking), you CAN colour eggs with the kids, and you MUST remember that a basket filled with high quality chocolates can be used as credit when next you mess up big time - and you KNOW you will mess up! Never let it be said that you have not been warned!!!

OK, Life Lesson Number 1: NEVER, under any circumstances, try to keep up drinking with a Brit on holiday.

Brits can drink. I learned that when I went to London a few years ago. I showed up, sober as a judge, and managed to stay that way for approximately two hours (as long as it took to get out of the airport, dump my bags and be whisked away to the local for 'a pint'). I stayed drunk for the next three weeks. I would wake up in the morning and before I could wipe the blur from my eyes and check for the level of hung-overness I'd managed to obtain from the night before, I would find myself sitting in a pub laughing over another pint of bitter and something deep fried for brunch, um, lunch...What do you call a pint and a mass of grease at 10am??? I'm not complaining mind. If I'd had the chance to assess my degree of hangover, I'm sure I'd have stayed in moaning for the remaining portion of my vacation...This was a far better way to spend the time...I'm just saying, I know that Brits can drink.

I was not, however, prepared for the amount they can drink when they are on holiday! Seems that through my haze in London, I failed to recognize that those escorting me from pub to pub where continuing to live their daily lives. They had work to attend, loved ones to look after, football teams to obsess over. When they leave all of that behind (well, they never do leave their football team obsession behind, do they...as a matter of fact, holidays usually consist of following said team away - calling that a holiday), they leave behind the need to remain coherent - or so it seems!

I met up with a group of six who were in North America to follow around some of their favourite teams...We met in a pub. Where else would you find them? It was just after noon. Being the "local", I was to show them the sites. Where would I take them? What would I want to do if I were on holiday here to see my team from home? No need to panic...seems that as long as there is a pint handy, they don't much care WHERE they go!!! We went from the pub to a touristy part of town...forget the fancy clothes boutiques, we found the brew pub! After a few rounds there, we decided to get back closer to the hotel (which was conveniently locate

My whole life has been one lung problem after another. I was the kid that always had the booming cough. I was the kid who would run out of wind, no matter how good a shape I was in. I was the teen that couldn't keep up with the others when they ran along the beach. I was the teen that had trouble breathing out of her nose enough for a really good snog. I am the adult whose cough fills the rink from end to end. I am the adult who has other shrinking away in fear of catching some awful disease. I am the adult who, at almost 40 just found out that all these years I've been suffering from borderline asthma...enough to keep me less active than my peers, enough to have me convinced that my immune system was poorly at the best of times. How does that happen? How do you make it through so many years, showing the same signs over and over again, without a single diagnosis for asthma???

I'm hoping to be able to breath again next week, for the first time in, well, for the first time in my life!!! No longer will dusty ball fields and cold rinks send my bronchiole tubes shrinking and shrieking in horror...I wonder what that feels like? I wonder what it's like to be able to breath like normal people...when all along I thought I was normal people????

We're supposed to be receiving a bonus at work...Kindly, they're to attach it to our pay (which means I can kiss 50% of that bonus bye-bye before it gets anywhere near my pocket - I'll see it on the pay stub and that's as close as I'll get). Even so, it's a substantial bonus...So, here's my question: Do I decide to use it to pay down existing bills, or do I do something FUN with it like purchase a new washer and dryer??? OK, I'm wanting to use it to go on holiday. I haven't had a proper holiday since we last had a pay raise...four years ago! I could use a holiday. Or, being the slacker I am, ok, the sloth I am, maybe I should invest in the HDTV/recorder box. It would make my hours upon hours spent in front of the TV each week that much more enjoyable. Maybe I could use it to buy a bedroom furniture set...no more dorm room bedroom. I think by the time you hit 40 you're entitled to have a bedroom suite, don't you? There are just so many things that I could do with that money...I guess the real question becomes, how do I make sure my DH doesn't know about the bonus until AFTER I've spent it!?!?!? :)