Molly(s)

A few days after Christmas, we lost our dear Border Collie Molly. Her health had been declining gradually but we of course were all a little in denial. A few days after Christmas, Mom noticed her staggering when she got up. Dad took her to the vet that same day and he came home without her.

When Dad walked in that evening, the first thing out of my mouth was “Where’s Molly?” In retrospect, I sounded like a child and regret to this day that I asked. Dad held out his hands and shook his head. He was unable to speak. None of us were. Mom and I looked at each other in shock. I quickly turned my head and went back to washing dishes as I didn’t want anyone to see my tears.   

Dad and Molly were best friends for many years. She was constantly by his side and a tremendous help in the barn. To quote Dad “She has saved me a lot of steps.” Molly was an incredibly smart dog. At times, I felt like she could almost speak. Like humans, animals of course have their own distinct personality. And Molly’s was very special.

We were not sure how Dad would react. Many times, I’ve said “I do not want to be on the farm the day Molly goes to dog heaven.” And there I was right smack dab in the middle of it. Dad took it better than we thought we would. We were also shocked when he started talking right away about getting another dog. With his birthday right around the corner in February, we decided a puppy would be a perfect gift for him.

We contacted a couple of breeders and finally settled on one who told us we could have a puppy ca. late February – early March. We all contributed to the total cost and then told Dad our plans. He seemed upbeat about it right away. He then surprised us by saying he would call this new dog Molly as well. I recall thinking this was a bit odd but his reasoning was sound: “My memory is so bad I will just call her Molly anyway so why not do so from the start.” Molly it was.

Mom, Dad, David and Karen made a trek up to the breeders at the Western end of the Island to pick out the puppy in mid February. Dads once again choose a female pup who was also the runt of the litter. Within a few weeks, she arrived at the farm...and the farm hasn’t been the same since.

Mom endured the first few weeks of puppy craze with more patience than anyone I know. My favourite story involved a vase of roses. After knocking it over and have all the waters and flowers fall on her head, Molly didn’t know what to do. Hearing Mom make her way out to kitchen must have intensified the situation because by the time Mom reached the entry to the kitchen, she met Molly galloping down the hallway with a rose in her mouth.

As soon as it was warm enough, Molly moved from the house to the barn. My telephone conversations with Mom always contain a few entertaining Molly stories. And within a few weeks, I will get to see her again. I adore her. When I had to go home unexpectedly in April, I also got to meet Molly. I loved cuddling with her and our daily walks. Here are some photos I took of her in April...expect some more in the Fall!

The phone call – part deux

Doug, Patty and I sat there starring at Mom talking to my brother David on the telephone. I was so impressed at my Mother’s strength. She didn’t break down – nor did her voice quiver. Doug and Patty sat on their couch starring intently at Mom. I looked from one to the other and was grateful nobody was looking at me because I was on the verge of hyper ventilating. My breath would not come and I suddenly felt so cold. I realize now, I was truly scared – not a feeling I have had very often in my life.

Hanging up the phone, Mom didn’t have a lot of details. All we knew was that Dad had a heart attack sometime earlier that afternoon. He was taken to Montague Hospital and then immediately transported to the QE Hospital (QEH) in Charlottetown. I recall Mom looking at me and I immediately saw what she was feeling. She needed to get home asap. I looked at her and said, I’ll get your ticket changed – and get a ticket for myself. I got on Doug’s computer and within twenty minutes, I had tickets for us both to fly home the next day. I will say that the Westjet agent I spoke to was incredibly kind, considerate and helpful when I briefly explained the situation. Doug and Patty were incredible too. I felt bad that they had to experience getting that news with Mom and myself – not that we had any control over it. They drove us back to my apartment that night and offered to take us to the airport the next day. I especially appreciated these acts because that Saturday afternoon Mom had began to come down with the same flu like symptoms that my younger brother Peter had a few days earlier. By the following day, Mom had a full blown viral flu.

That Saturday night we got back to the apartment, I quickly got myself organized, and began making phone calls. The first one was to the QEH as Mom wanted to speak with Dad. This helped immensely because he sounded good – like himself. He even told Mom not to bother coming home and to stay and enjoy her visit with me. We realized then that he did not comprehend the severity of what happened and was still in denial, which Mom said is typical of a lot of men. With our nerves a little more calmed, we then called David back to tell him our flight information. It then occurred to me to ask him how he tracked us down at Doug and Patty’s home. Apparently Mom had emailed David that morning and said we were going to the Textile Museum and to Doug and Patty’s the evening. David looked in Mom’s address book for the Baldwin’s number but only found their address. He then found their telephone number using Canada 411. Sure enough, I checked my messages after getting home that evening and there was one from both Peter and David. Hearing David’s voice message chilled me. His tone indicated there was something obviously very wrong.

I began making phone calls and writing emails. I first took care of work, emailing my manager and senior coordinators that I would be gone at least a week. I then contacted my close friends to briefly explain what happened. It then occurred to us that we would need to call Dad’s brother Frank in Montreal and contact Mom’s sisters. Once the information got distributed then the calls started coming in – first from Mom’s sister Margie and then from Frank and Aletha. This went on for a few hours. Mom talked and I got ready. I emptied my fridge out, put my garbage out, got my plants ready and then began to pack. The following day Doug and Patty took us to the airport. I gave Patty all the perishable items from my fridge as well as the tickets to War Horse I had purchased for Mom and me. Before we knew it, we were on the flight home.

It wasn’t until we were on the flight that I realized how sick Mom was. She had the chills so bad, I did my best to wrap myself over her so as to try and transfer to her some of my body heat. She said it helped, but I honestly felt like I was suffocating her – not to mention how foolish we must have looked in retrospect. David was there to pick us up at the airport and we went immediately to the hospital. It was touching to see Dad’s reaction to seeing Mom – with her face mask and all! He so obviously adores her, and really doesn’t do well without her. I saw the look of both relief and love on his face, which lit up when she walked in the door. My sister-in-law Karen then looked at me, chuckled and said “We are glad you are home as we know he will listen to you.”

The following day Mom and I returned to the hospital and we started asking questions about how everything had played out. The more we heard, the more horrified my Mom became. Apparently Dad had been driving the tractor when he began to experience a crushing in his chest. He then pulled the tractor up to the patio, got off, went in to the house and sat in his beloved lazy boy chair so as to ‘wait for it to pass.’ Initially he said this lasted for 30 minutes, which later changed to an hour, and then to maybe 1.5 hours. After that he proceeded to get back on the tractor and get an additional seven bales of silage from the field. He then returned to the house and upon seeing Peter he asked “With your flu did you experience a crushing in your chest?” Peter’s response: “Ah, NOOOOOOOO,” after which he immediately called David, who came right away and took Dad’s blood pressure, which of course was ‘up.’ David wanted to call an ambulance but Dad refused. Dad then proceeded to take a shower and ask David to drive him to Montague Hospital. Upon arriving at the hospital, the Doctor quickly determined Dad had a heart attack and he was shipped off to the QEH in Charlottetown. After telling us this Dad then stated “And they tell me I had a heart attack,” which he continued to say for the majority of that week. I recall the horror on Mom’s face when he finished. All I could think of was “This would have played out so differently if Mom had been home.”

The rest of that week is honestly a blur. Mom was so sick we made her stay home for a few days to rest and try and get better. Dad developed a temperature of unknown origin which delayed his scheduled angioplasty in St. John, New Brunswick. I drove to Charlottetown everyday and spent the day with Dad. Some people have described him as being “spoiled” in this respect, but he honestly needed someone to sit with him. The changes in medication and shock of having the heart attack left him confused at times. For the first three days at the QEH, he was not even allowed bathroom privileges (ie: he was not allowed out of bed) as he heart hadn’t stabilized and continued to go in and out of sinus rhythm. Besides, I wanted to be there. Dad has worked hard his entire life – not sitting at a desk either – he was worked physically hard to support us all and get us started in our own lives. It was now my job to be there for him and Mom.

We then ran into the Easter Holiday weekend, and Dad was still not booked for his trip to St. John. I had to decide to change my flight or not and to be honest, I struggled with it. I wanted to stay but was worried. I had a new manager and wasn’t sure how she’d react to the entire situation. After Dad said to me “It would be nice if you could stay and see this all the way through” I thought “To hell with it, I’m staying” (and my manager ended up being wonderful about everything upon my return back to work). So I stayed another week and am so glad I did.

Dad had a lot of visitors that week at the QEH. There were people from the Bay, his farmer friends, and of course family. Danny was out a few times and Erica came with Fineas and Marianne, and Terri came with her baby Hudson, which thrilled him. Jimmie MacAulay came to visit no less than three times and also appreciated was the fact that Olive Crane took time out of her busy schedule to come and see Dad the night before the opening of the house. At home, it was also heart warming to see the support of friends and neighbours. Because we were all sick, Mike Casey brought a vat of chicken soup to the house. Our dear neighbour and cousin Lillian also brought chicken soup, fish cakes and cookies – all freshly backed and cooked. Noel and Louise MacDonald came to help Peter every evening with the chores. It was wonderfully touching to witness all this support and of course, there were no surprises as to who didn’t show up.

On Easter Sunday, Dad was told he would be going to St. John the following morning. I was granted permission to go with him in the ambulance and David and Mom would follow in a car later that morning. We left Charlottetown in the ambulance at 6am and this was a first for me. The ambulance was surprisingly comfortable – but not so much for Dad in the back. I had an amazing view going over the Confederation Bridge (Dad unfortunately had no view) and the trip passed surprisingly fast. The Ambulance attendants were lovely and easy to talk to as both knew my brother David. Any ounce of familiarity in this unfamiliar territory was welcomed by me.

When we arrived in St. John, the nurses proceeded with Dad’s admission and allowed me to remain sitting with him while doing so. When they asked him where he was, I was shocked when he said “Georgetown.” It wasn’t until that moment did I realize the extent to how confused he really was. It was so difficult to sit there and not be able to help him. But I knew by the look on his face that he knew he was *off* and how it was frustrating him. And the longer we stayed in St. John, the worse it got. After four days, I recall my Mom saying to me “Is he losing his mind?” to which I replied “I don’t know but I think I am.” We had all been in the hospital for 12+ days and we were all getting a little shack happy. Once we got to St. John, Dad kept getting bumped due to emergencies. But our brief stay in St. John did come with some funny moments. There were several “codes” announced in the hospital indicating a violent patient had gotten loose. On one of our walks around the unit, I found a vial of blood in a Ziploc bag on the floor and thought/insisted it was a marker. Mom’s response: “Ah, no it is definitely not a marker.” Needless to say, I am still getting teased about this. There’s always a funny story or two that seems to follow my Mom and I when we get together.

The Thursday of that week in St. John, Dad finally had his angioplasty (dye test) procedure done and one stint implanted. The dye test determined that he had one blockage at 90% and two other blockages at 40%. He got along fine and the next day we were en route back home to PEI. Before having the procedure done, Dad had to take off his wedding ring and watch. I added his wedding ring to my chain, which I wear my grandmother’s wedding ring on. I was surprised at how good the two rings looked together. I told Dad this after getting home, he chucked, and then said “Give me my ring back please before you ‘accidently’ take it back to Toronto.

Dad was so glad to get home and Molly (our new Border Collie puppy) was glad to see everyone as she had a very lonely week. Upon getting home, Mom was quick to notice a rose blooming on her rose bush in the living room. To say this rose stood out (see photo below) would be an understatement. We all saw it as a message that our prayers to St. Theresa and the Blessed Mother had been answered. Dad was home safe and sound and we were all so very grateful.

The phone call

After Christmas vacation, Mom and I always go through a bit of withdrawal. We enjoy spending time together so much and both feel the void when we have to say good-bye. To counteract this in January, I booked Mom a flight to come to Toronto and it was to be her longest stay to date. As she is now retired and no longer limited due to vacation restrictions, I went and booked her a two week plus stay. We were both looking forward to it so much. So as to make sure she got to do as many interesting and fun things as possible, I even created an excel sheet to help organized her trip! I prepared as much as possible in advance....purchased tickets to the theatre, tickets to a daytime television show broadcast, scheduled dinners with friends, and looked into a day trip out of Toronto.

Mom arrived on a Thursday evening at the end of March. The ride from the airport to my apartment is always amusing for me. Mom is so hyper upon arrival. Listening to the speeches come out of her as the airport limo driver weaves in and out of the congested Toronto traffic is the beginning of the laughter that commences for the duration of her stay. Her take on life is always so refreshing, inspiring, and humorous.

I had to go to work that Friday but after work our first event commended. My friend Dee, Mom and myself headed for a manicure and pedicure at Cozy Nails. We had our feet and hands scrubbed, backs massaged in the salon’s comfortable massage chairs, and the complementary fruit smoothie. Oddly, we all choose the same colour for our toes. Dee had chosen this colour on a previous trip and I loved it. So we all gave it a go.

After an hour or so of pampering we headed to the Danforth. On previous trips, Mom developed a taste for Greek cuisine, which Dee and I also already loved. Astoria is our favourite restaurant. It is *always* busy and lively, and the souvalki is said to be the best in the city. If you are in Toronto, be sure to give it a try. Here is Mom, Dee and some pork souvlaki:

 

Mom and I made our way to the Textile Museum the next afternoon (Saturday). I love this little museum. The first time I went was in the Fall of 2009 with my friend Beth where we saw the most beautiful exhibit of Molas – front and back panels made by a reverse appliqué technique incorporated into the blouses of traditional costumes of Kuna women (indigenous people of Panama and Columbia). As Mom has an appreciation, ability, and knowledge for various crafts, fabrics and techniques, I thought she might enjoy this museum as well.

When we entered and went to the admission desk, I asked for a senior’s rate for Mom. The lady behind the desk looked at Mom and exclaimed “You don’t look to be 65” in a surprised voice, which of course *is* true. We then proceeded to have a nice discussion with the lady. As I guessed, she was a volunteer at the museum and much to our surprise, she told us she was 91 years old. As we walked away and got on the elevator Mom looked at me and said, “When you get to be that age, everybody looks young.” Always so humble my Mom. Yet I couldn’t help but chuckle as it was so something that Grammie would say.

One of the exhibits was entitled Portable Mosques: The Sacred Space of the PrayerRug. These 19^th and early 20^th century rugs were incredibly ornate and beautiful.

After that, we encountered many impressive pieces from the museum collection: a 19^th century Tibetan jacket; mid 20^th century hooked rug from Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia; crazy quilt made ca. 1890 in Durham County, Ontario; and mid 20^th century bedding cover from Gujarat, India.

From the museum, we made our way back to my beloved Danforth. Having lived my first four years in Toronto in this neighbourhood, I will always have a fondness for this area. It is familiar and how I first became acquainted with Toronto. Mom and I met Doug and Patty Baldwin, who live in the neighbourhood for yet another Greek feast, after which we went to the Baldwin’s home for tea and dessert. Patty made her famous Pat’s Rose and Grey carrot cake, which went so well with the accompanying tea. The phone rang, Patty picked it up, looked puzzled and handed the phone to Mom saying “Caller id says it is Robert Rossiter calling.” Mom answered equally as puzzled. It wasn’t Dad through, it was my brother David. Looking at Mom, I saw a look of shock come over her face. She turned to me and said in a low voice “Dad had a heart attack this afternoon.”

To be continued...

Barbeque Safety

Take a few simple precautions to safe and fire-free barbeque season this year...as instructed by the PEI Fire Marshall (who just happens to be my older brother!)