Aaaacckkk!!

The end of an era arrived for me this morning, when I heard, on CBS Sunday Morning, that Cathy Guisewite has announced the end of her comic strip, Cathy. The final strip will run on Oct. 3, after almost 34 years.

I was in high school when Cathy began running in the newspapers in the late 1970s. By the time I got to university, I was hooked. I had Cathy posters on my dorm room walls, a Cathy wall calendar & agenda book, & Cathy mugs (which I still have). My mother & I would trade Cathy clippings, especially those involving Cathy & her mother, whose relationship sometimes eerily mirrored our own.

I spent one summer living with one of my girlfriends, who was juggling several boyfriends at once. In one storyline that summer, Cathy had every man she ever dated show up in her living room at the same time. I would clip the cartoons & leave them on the table for my girlfriend to read, between dates. I remember both of us giggling over a classic Cathy line -- after listening to an unwanted suitor proclaim his undying love, Cathy mourned, "Why do the right words always come out of the wrong mouth??"

Not everyone shares my love of "Cathy." Most guys I knew didn't like it ("Feminist stuff," sniffed a former (male) head of my department, upon seeing my Cathy calendar in my cubicle) & some women don't either, saying Cathy's constant battles with food, bathing suits, etc., were demeaning to women. At the same time, it's undeniable that the strip was groundbreaking for its time, & reflected the tension most women of Guisewite's (& my) generation felt between the feminist ideal & the reality of being female. Which, like it or not, often included (and still includes) struggles with weight, body image, relationships, parents...

One headline I found online read "Cathy Comic Strip Ends - Readers Reminded It Still Existed." Once carried in some 1,400 newspapers, it's now in just 700 or so. (I've actually been having it e-mailed to me every morning for the past several years, & have several printed out & thumbtacked to the walls of my cubicle.)

I can't blame Guisewite for deciding to throw in the towel -- after 34 years, it must be difficult to find something fresh to write & draw about the annual swimsuit shopping expedition (although I still find she manages to come up with some really great observations, & I still find myself sending strips to people -- most recently to my husband, when Cathy & Irving's very different approaches to packing for vacation had me cracking up over the obvious parallels). The strip probably "jumped the shark" when Cathy finally married her longtime on-again-off-again boyfriend, Irving, five years ago.

So how should the strip end? According to some Wall Street Journal readers, with a baby, of course (see the comments section). Apparently Guisewite, who adopted a baby 18 years ago, has said she has wavered over the years on the question of whether Cathy & Irving should have children.

Well, if marrying Irving was seen as a betrayal by some readers who looked to Cathy as an icon of single femaledom, you can imagine how THIS married but childless reader would feel about an ending like THAT. Cathy Guisewite, if you're reading this, please, I beg you -- DON'T DO IT.

But I'll miss you, Cathy, just the same. Thanks for the laughs & the memories, & may all your chocolate be calorie-free.

What's in a name?

I heard on Friday that Ben Mulroney & his wife of two years, Jessica, were the proud new parents of twin sons. The name is probably meaningless for those of you outside of Canada -- so let me explain that Ben is the second child & eldest son of our former prime minister (1984-1993), Brian Mulroney. Today, he is the host of an entertainment talk show called etalk (think a younger, more "gosh golly" version of John Tesh) & also of Canadian Idol (in the Ryan Seacrest role).

I supported Brian Mulroney's Progressive Conservative party (as for the current PM & decidedly NOT progressive Conservative Party, please don't get me started...) but, like many Canadians, did not particularly like the man. There was something just a little too slick about him that didn't seem quite trustworthy.

I met him (and his beautiful, much-younger wife Mila) once, in the spring of 1983, when he was campaigning for the leadership of the Progressive Conservative party. I was a member of the campus PC club at the time, & was invited to meet the candidate at a reception along with some of the other club members. Brian shook our hands, practically slapped us on the backs & made a joke. I think he might have even winked at us.

Later, over hamburgers & fries at McDonalds, we talked about the evening, & one of the guys asked me what I thought. Of Mila, I said, "She obviously doesn't buy HER clothes at Woolco," & of Brian, I said, "I'm impressed, but I'm not convinced." I still think I was right on both counts, lol.

Anyway, I didn't think much more about the twins until I read yesterday's Globe & Mail. Under a photo of a beaming Grandpa Brian holding both boys was the following story.

Even dh, after reading the story (particularly the last half), said "OK, Brian, you get points for that." (Ben & Jessica too.)

*** *** ***

Friday, August 13, 2010 2:41 PM

Brian Mulroney gets a first glimpse at his namesake

Jane Taber

The four Mulroney kids had a pact amongst themselves that Ben Mulroney’s first-born son would be named, Brian. That name was off limits for the other siblings.

On Thursday morning, the former Conservative prime minister’s son and his wife, Jessica Brownstein, named their son, Brian (he is the baby on the left) and their second, John.

Brian arrived at 8:09 a.m. and his brother followed one minute later; they both weighed four pounds, four ounces (1.92 kilograms). And the grandmothers, Mila Mulroney and Veronica Brownstein, were in the room at Toronto’s Mount Sinai hospital when the babies were born.

The elder Brian Mulroney, 71, arrived from Montreal later on. Arthur Milnes, a friend who was the researcher on Mr. Mulroney’s memoirs, says the former prime minister could not be happier.

Indeed, Mr. Mulroney noted to Mr. Milnes that Ben and Jessica’s babies are the first Mulroney children to be born since Nicolas, (the youngest of the Mulroney siblings) was born on Sept. 4, 1985 – the first anniversary of Mr. Mulroney’s first majority government. They are the fifth and sixth grandchildren for Mr. Mulroney and his wife, Mila (who took the picture above). Caroline, their eldest, and her husband have four children with her husband Andrew Lapham.

As touched as he is with having a namesake, Mr. Mulroney was also moved by the choice of John for the name of the twin.

John, he recalled to Mr. Milnes, was the name of his eldest brother, the so-called “mystery” Mulroney, who passed away within hours of being born.

The story was vaguely known around the Mulroney household but no one was really certain what had happened. And by the time Mr. Mulroney had worked up the nerve to ask his mother about the baby and where he was buried, she was elderly and her memories had faded.

Mr. Mulroney knows the baby is buried somewhere in Buckingham, Que., where his parents had lived. The former prime minister wrote about it in his biography.

“This small but important mystery has troubled my siblings and me for decades,” Mr. Mulroney recounted in his memoirs. “We have tried to reconstruct events, to interview people who might shed light and search the entire area for records, all without success.

“We wanted John to know that he has never been forgotten, that we love the brother we never knew. We do know that somewhere in Buckingham, Que. in June of 1935, John Mulroney was buried with neither a trace nor a memory. I often reflected on the sadness of the story and my complete powerlessness, even in the highest office in the land, to make it right in any way.”

Ben and Jessica had read the book. They, too, were moved by the story.

Mommyblogger me (??!!)

In my heart of hearts, I know I am a mother. It's just hard sometimes to remember that or to feel that way sometimes, when the rest of the world -- even when they know my story -- doesn't seem to see it that way.

That's why I'm always so grateful when other people acknowledge that, yes, I am a mother too, even if you don't see me pushing a stroller or sitting on the sidelines of my daughter's soccer game or chaperoning a school field trip.

And that's one reason why Melissa totally rocks -- because she understands, & because she's made it her mission to get more people whose lives might not have been directly touched by pregnancy loss &/or infertility to understand too.

Melissa e-mailed me last night -- as Katie's "anniversary" weekend was ending -- to tell me that she'd nominated me for Parenting.com's list of "Must-Read Moms," which was released at the BlogHer convention in New York last weekend. Not only was I nominated, "The Road Less Travelled" was named to the supplementary list of "More Must Reads." On page 15, to be exact.

To say I was flattered would be an understatement. Flabbergasted is more like it, lol. I'm always thrilled whenever one of my posts makes Melissa's Friday roundup. Recognition from your peers (in the ALI blogging community) is so incredibly special. But to be recognized outside that community -- to have the opportunity to open some minds & perhaps get people to consider a different perspective -- to be recognized by non-deadbabymamas as a mother -- well, that's pretty special too.

It was even better when I clicked through the list today & saw the wonderful company I was in -- some familiar names included Lori (who made the top 10!), Calliope, Angie, Ali Edwards (a scrapbooker I greatly admire) & even the great Dooce. In fact, we saw a story about her on PBS's Need to Know earlier in the day. I had to dissuade dh from the notion that this means I will be earning $40,000 a month from blogging now like she does, lol.

Lots of new blogs to explore, too. One thing that struck me as I clicked through the list was how great some of these blogs LOOK, before I ever even read a word. (Needless to say, I'm glad I recently switched my template from Basic Blogger to something with a touch more pizzazz, lol.)

Thank you, Mel. Thank you thank you thank you.

Thank you, Parenting.com, and thank you, BlogHer.

I am deeply, deeply honoured.

My baby was stillborn 12 years ago today, & all I got was this lousy visit from AF

Last night, we went to a family gathering where I was the only adult married woman without a child.

I sat and listened to all the moms talk about their kids (& grandkids).

I held the newest baby in the family (she was cute, & I didn't mind a bit).

I congratulated one of dh's cousins who just announced her pregnancy (her third).

I thought about the little girl who should have been there, but wasn't.

I came home & found an e-mail from a good friend -- whose birthday is also today (mentioned in last year's post, here) -- telling me she was thinking of us today -- and especially because her stepson & his wife recently lost their third baby at 24 weeks. She was with them at the hospital & wrote, "I now understand what an incredibly emotional time the two of you went through." Even before she wrote those words, I would say she was probably the one friend who always remembered, listened and sympathized with me more than any other. (And she doesn't have any children of her own.)

As I wrote last year, and true again this year, this day sort of snuck up on me -- we got back from a busy vacation, & boom! it was already the first week of August. Maybe that's a good thing. The misery of AF aside :p I am doing OK. So far anyway. I knew AF was due for a visit, & as the week dragged on, I thought, "it will be the 7th, of course," and of course I was right. :p

Tonight we will take pink roses to the cemetery and think about what was, and what might have been.

We love you, little girl.

11 years later

Remembering this day, 10 years later

A butterfly flaps its wings

I can't believe I only blogged twice in July (& that the last time was nearly a month ago). Needless to say, with a new immediate boss coming on board at work (after 16 years with my former boss, who retired at the end of April), our 25th wedding anniversary, & vacation -- which included my parents' 50th (party for 100 people) & family reunion -- among other distractions -- I have had little time or energy to write, and am also sadly behind on my blog reading & commenting. I'm back at home & at work this week, & while I generally had a good time, I am physically, mentally & emotionally exhausted.

But while I enjoyed being at "home" & seeing my immediate & extended family & friends, & while the party & reunion were fun overall, they also came with a lot of work & stress attached. And while I don't want to get into the details here, let's just say that dh & I were not seeing eye to eye at times.

At several key points during our vacation -- the good stuff -- my dad's birthday party, the afternoon of the anniversary party, etc. -- we saw a monarch butterfly, which of course reminded us of Katie & always made us smile at each other, like we had a special secret between us.

But all was not sunshine & roses & butterflies. At the worst point, we were taking a walk & having a somewhat heated conversation.

And there on the curb was a dead monarch. I thought my heart was going to break. And it sounds funny to write this now, but it actually flashed into my mind that I had just written such glowing things about my marriage & my 25th wedding anniversary on my blog -- & if this was a sign, man, I was going to seem like such a hypocrite if & when I had to write a very different post down the road. :p

I think it WAS a sign, but maybe not the one I had initially feared. The sight gave both of us pause, I think. We went back to our room & talked & called a truce, and things improved, for the most part, from that point on. If it wasn't a bad omen, it most certainly was a wake up call, reminding us what was really important -- Katie, & each other -- & how even the best & closest marriages have rough spots & need work now & then.

Thanks, little girl.

*** *** ***

Parents' significant anniversaries & family reunions can be minefields for bereaved & infertile couples. But I have to say that I got through it all right & didn't think too much about the grandchild(ren) that should be here. We didn't invite any of my cousins' children to the anniversary party, because the hall only held 110 people comfortably & there simply wasn't room. The youngest person there was Parents' Neighbours' Daughter, who is 26 (!). And of the 40 people at our family reunion, there were two people in their 20s, two teenagers & two toddlers (the children of the couple in their 20s). Everyone else was in their mid-40s or older. Many of the cousins in my extended family are single or married later in life & do not have children, so I was far from alone in being childless. I suppose that might have seemed odd to some people, but to me, it's just my family. It was nice not to have to think about it too much, actually.

*** *** ***

I can't believe it is already August. And that those two significant dates on my calendar are here again, later this week. Not sure how I feel about it this year. I haven't really had much time to think about it (& maybe that's a good thing). I guess I'll find out shortly.

12 years. Wow.

25 years: Our silver lining

Twenty-five years ago today (eek!), on a blazing hot July afternoon, in a chapel on the university campus where we had met almost four years earlier, in front of about 120 friends & relatives (mostly mine) -- after three & a half years as a couple, and much of that time spent in a long-distance relationship -- pre-Internet, relying on snail mail, weekly long distance telephone calls (expensive at the time) & occasional visits by plane & train -- I married my best friend, my soulmate, my sweetheart. : )

When you are a starry-eyed 24-year-old bride, & promise you are going to love this man standing beside you "for better or for worse," you really have no idea what those words mean. (You feel like you've already endured "the worst" just surviving a long-distance relationship until the day you could finally be together.) You have a vague idea that there will be difficult days, of course, but you are supremely confident that together, you will conquer any obstacle that life throws in your path.

Thirteen years & a month later, cradling the small bundle of blankets that cocooned our much-longed-for stillborn daughter, we knew the awful meaning of "for worse."

We had been through job uncertainty. We had lost beloved relatives, including dh's 50-year-old uncle & grandparents on both sides of our family. We had been so broke (particularly that first year) that we had to ask dh's dad for money to pay the rent, & rolled the quarters we'd been saving to use for laundry to help buy groceries. We had had arguments (mostly money & clutter-related -- spender vs saver, pack rat vs minimalist)(guess who is which?) & struggled with the demons of anxiety.

None of this had prepared us to deal with infertility & stillbirth. The next few years were a nightmare, as we struggled -- and failed -- to create the family we had always dreamed about, before our bodies, finances and nerves gave out on us. We knew that not every couple survives this rollercoaster ride.

We were lucky. It has not been easy -- but we have held on to each other. For 25 years. (Longer, if you count the time before we were married.) As that immortal philosopher Jon Bon Jovi sings (lol), "We've got each other, and that's a lot." If there is one thing that has helped us as we made the transition to childless/free living, I think it's the certainty both of us felt, right from the beginning, that we could still have a good life together, just the two of us -- because we already did. And I think it's important to know that in your bones, to truly believe that, if you are considering a childless/free life, for whatever reason.

Children would have been wonderful, of course -- the icing on the cake, the cherry on top of the sundae. There's not a single day that goes by that I don't think about Katie, about the family I dreamed of having, about the way things could have been, should have been. Not necessarily a better life, but a good life, for sure -- a different life, a family life like the one we'd both had growing up. It does make me sad, still. I think we would have been good parents.

But it just didn't work out that way. And even before we started ttc, I believed that parents needed to provide a strong foundation for that family by focusing on their marriage & on each other. I've seen too many couples become so wrapped up in their children and their children's lives that they lose sight of who their partner is & why they got together in the first place. And sometimes, by the time the kids are grown & gone and they realize what's happened, they can't find their way back to each other.

Awhile back, I posted a vent about how I felt our anniversary was being lost in the shuffle -- particularly since my parents' 50th anniversary party is in less than three weeks. (To be fair, I imagine they were thinking the same thing about my wedding interfering with THEIR 25th, lol.) We've already celebrated a wedding & our nephew's high school graduation within the past six weeks or so, and I'm going through a lot of changes at work right now. Besides Mom & Dad's party, there's a big family reunion coming up. Our summer schedule is already crammed, & our work colleagues beat us to the punch in booking vacation time, making it impossible, sadly, to take any time off around this day.

So far (at the time I'm writing this, a day before this is scheduled to auto-publish), nobody has said a word indicating they recall the significance of this date -- although I expect I will get calls &/or e-mails from my parents & sister, and possibly SIL, who is usually pretty good about remembering these things.

But it's still our anniversary. Our 25th, our silver anniversary. And that's worth celebrating.

And we are, in our own way. A couple of weekends ago, dh & I went shopping and bought the diamond anniversary ring I'd been eyeing for years. We also ordered new flatware & looked at some new stoneware to replace the stuff we got as wedding gifts 25 years ago. We're still using it, but the flatware is stained & tarnished, and the dishes are scratched & chipped -- a little worn around the edges (just like us, lol).

We thought about going somewhere this past weekend, but knew it would have to be an over Saturday night thing. And, being a long weekend of sorts in both Canada (Canada Day, July 1st) & the U.S. (4th of July), we knew it would probably be busy & hard to book something in any of our favourite local haunts (Niagara on the Lake, Stratford...).

Instead, we decided to let the dust bunnies have free rein of the house for another week, abandoned the usual Saturday housecleaning, and went into the city for the day. We went to the Royal Ontario Museum to see their special exhibit on the Terracotta Warriors from China, visited the mummies & dinosaurs while we were there, & then strolled down Bloor Street (the Rodeo Drive of Canada) to a bookstore for an hour's browse. Headed back to the 'burbs & finished the evening with a steak dinner at our favourite local restaurant.

Tonight after work, we will be having dinner downtown at an Italian restaurant in an atmospheric heritage building, attending "Rock of Ages" (an '80s musical! -- how appropriate, lol!!) and then spending the night at one of the city's grand old hotels. Later this summer or early in the fall, we hope to get away for a week or two, just the two of us -- possibly to Nova Scotia or Prince Edward Island (maybe both). (Suggestions/recommendations for places to visit, stay, eat, etc., are welcomed.)

After we lost Katie, the Classic Pooh motif that was to have been her nursery theme became a huge source of comfort to me & dh. Ten years ago, in a little gift shop at the Forks in Winnipeg, we found (& immediately scooped up) a stained glass window ornament that now hangs on the big mirror in our bedroom. It's Pooh & Piglet, looking at each other, holding hands & skipping off together (down the road less travelled?). The caption, which has become a motto of sorts for us, reads: "It didn't matter where they went, as long as they went together."

I'm still not entirely sure where we'll wind up -- but I know that, as long as we go there together, we will be fine. : )

24th anniversary (July 6, 2009)

23rd anniversary (July 6, 2008)

Milestones: They're growing up, I'm growing older

Signs that I'm getting older are springing up all around me lately. I have a milestone wedding anniversary coming up shortly, a milestone anniversary party for my parents later this month, and a milestone birthday coming up early next year.

Another marker of time passing is watching kids I've known since they were babies mark their own life milestones.

Last fall, I wrote about how my Parents' Neighbours' Daughter (PND) called to tell me she was engaged, and already planning her wedding for the Victoria Day long weekend in May. As I wrote then, PND was a mere three months old when my parents moved in across the street, & probably spent almost as much time at our house growing up as she did at her own. There was no question that we would make the trip west to be at her wedding, and there we were, as she walked into the beautiful old church on her father's arm.

Have you ever tried taking photos & keeping the camera steady while simultaneously stifling the huge sobs that are wracking your body? (Not to mention trying not to muck up your glasses too much with tears, so that you can actually see the wedding.)

As I watched her walk through the door into the church, part of me had an odd flashback to watching her as a toddler in an adorable pink snowsuit, walking back home across the street by herself (with her mom watching from their window & we watching from ours) -- stomping on all the iced-over puddles (typical kid). There was utter disbelief that she was actually all grown up & getting married, that I really was seeing this happen. Gratitude that I was able to be there to see it.

And, of course, wrenching grief -- the scab being torn off the old wound again -- knowing that I would never, ever see my own daughter, radiant in a white gown & walking down the aisle with her proud father.

Fortunately, after the initial tsunami of emotion that swept over me, I managed to choke back the tears and got through the rest of the ceremony all right. Manouevred my way through dinner all right -- my biggest fear was accidentally ingesting a tomato or tomato-related food & having an allergic reaction, marring an evening that I wanted desperately to enjoy.

And then I had to give a speech.

A few weeks before the wedding, PND had asked my parents whether anyone from our family -- her second family, she calls us -- would like to speak at the dinner. I knew someone from our family had to do it. And I knew that someone was going to be me, lol. I knew my parents wouldn't -- they seldom, if ever, give speeches, and I knew they would probably be feeling at least as emotional as I was that night, if not more so. I also correctly gauged my sister's response when my mother told her of PND's question (which was "Hell, NO!" lol).

I'm not totally at ease speaking in public, but I'm not a total neophyte at it either. I was a junior high debater and gave speeches in 4-H competitions, and I was a member of a Toastmasters club for 7-8 years, although I hadn't done any speaking in quite awhile -- and certainly not at an emotional event in front of a couple hundred people, mostly strangers.

Still, I said I would do it. I knew what I wanted to say. Heck, I already had half the speech written for me in my blog. ; )

There was a bit of a funny echo from the microphone when I began speaking. As I progressed, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I just wanted to get through what I had to say without bursting into tears. And while I had to pause for a moment as my voice caught near the end -- as I thanked the bride's parents & brothers for sharing their daughter & sister with us for all those years -- I made it through just fine. Bit my lip to hold back the tears as the bride got up from her seat to envelop me in a huge hug. Saw the bride's mom wiping her eyes & knew I'd done my job.

*** *** ***

The other marker took place just this past week, when dh & I attended our youngest nephew's high school graduation. We'd gone to his older brother's four years ago, and there was absolutely no question that we would also come to his. Neither set of grandparents seemed interested (or willing to sit through two hours and 240 other diplomas, lol), so it was just BIL & SIL, dh & me. Older nephew, now 21, was not there, having rented a cottage for a week's vacation with some friends & his girlfriend -- another sign of how quickly time is passing & how much they have grown up.

Nephew #2, who was a cute & chubby toddler, is now a strapping 6'2" or so, towering over dh & me and even his father, who is almost six feet. I felt a swell of pride watching him put on his graduation gown & cap and patiently pose for my camera yet another time. As we have long planned, dh & I gave him a card with a fat cheque inside to help him defray his university costs next fall. ("For books & bus fare -- NOT beer," we said, only half-joking.) He gave us a heartfelt "THANK YOU!" & some big hugs.

My only big lump-in-the-throat moment was watching him embrace his proud mother when we found him in the crowd after the ceremony was over. It was another one of those moments that reminded me that I will never share such a moment with my own child.

I had a good cry the next day, reading a message from SIL, thanking us & saying how happy they were that we could be there to share the evening with them. No, I wanted to reply, thank YOU for letting us share this experience with YOU.

*** *** ***

In a sort of related vein, dh & I spent our Canada Day holiday afternoon today at the movies, in a theatre full of parents, kids & even a couple of babies (one of them squirming right beside me), seeing "Toy Story 3." I'd already read the glowing reviews -- along with articles written by grown men admitting that the movie made them bawl like babies. Even my two grown nephews admitted they cried when they saw it.

So I was somewhat prepared. Somewhat. I didn't expect that I would cry harder than I had at any movie since "Up," almost exactly one year earlier. Or that I would start crying from the opening sequence. Or that just thinking about the movie as I type this would make the tears well up in my eyes all over again.

In a coincidence that my SIL pointed out to us, the toys' owner, Andy, is now grown up, 17 years old, and heading off to college. (Just like our youngest nephew.) (I read that the same boy has voiced Andy in all three movies, growing up along with the character. ) And he has to decide what to do with his old toys -- to throw them out, store them in the attic, or donate them to the local daycare centre. Or take them, or some of them, with him to college. I won't spoil the movie for those of you who haven't seen it -- but be forewarned, bring plenty of Kleenex.