Author: charlestess

forgive and dance?

forgiveness is a tough one.

three common reasons for forgiveness?

– makes us look good to others

– to stop other people talking about it

– we don’t want to spend so much time thinking about the issue

interestingly, forgiving because it is "the right thing to do" does not come up on that list. why should it?

but really forgiving can take a lot of effort. energy, even. loving the person as you did before they hurt you. wanting to get to know them more, even though they initially put you off. not always thinking of the issue when you are together. or even better, feeling a little superior to them because you have forgiven them for hurting you.

forgiveness. i am good at forgiving people who have hurt me, possibly because i have been forgiven so much in my life. however, when people hurt those i love, my forgiveness is not so hasty.

here’s what respected author lewis smeades has to say about forgiveness:

when you forgive someone,

you are dancing to the rhythm of the divine heartbeat…

God invented forgiveness as the only way

to keep his romance with the human race alive.

what is so romantic about forgiveness? why do i still have a tough time forgiving those who hurt my loved ones even though i know my loved ones are guilty of the crime they were attacked for? because i am the only one who has the right to make that observation?

tea and sympathy

thanks for your kind messages and emails. we have appreciated them. in asia the mindset tends to be, "they’re animals! no different from the cows you eat. get over it." hearing your stories of animals you’ve loved makes us smile. you get it.

this getting used to not having a cat will not be an overnight situation.

when i was cutting up turkey and thawing turkey stock, i worried about whether olivia would get into the stock and drink it.

when i laid out the floorlength black beaded ball gown i wore to an event last night, i lifted it up immediately, knowing that olivia would soon jump on the bed and ruck up the fabric with her ultra powerful nails.

when i left the house this morning, i wondered if i should turn on the heater, because olivia does like cosiness.

all week long, little thoughts like this.

so how can you manage when someone huge in your life absents from it? if mc and i had broken up (ie: if God hadn’t been so good to me), i would have mourned things like never having him hold my finger, instead of my hand, as we walked through a crowd, but i would have been mourning the failure of the relationship, and at some point he would have been a jerk, i would have been a jerk, etc.

but in death, you’re not mourning the failure of the relationship, you’re mourning it’s end.the finality. there is no chance you will be getting back together on this earth. all those things about the person that made up your daily habits and patterns, no longer necessary, but you did it for them, and you think of them while doing them, as you have been doing for them for how many years.

i cannot properly imagine what it is like to lose a child or lover.

losing a loved cat is painful enough.

and she was very loved.

the resilience of the human spirit amazes me.

places in the heart

lots of heart posts lately. i feel like an overzealous hallmark employee swishing around getting ready for 14 feb.

but this past week has been difficult.

1) tuesday we got an email stating that a close relative had been injured in a serious accident. please please readers, as one who got epilepsy as a result of not wearing a helmet, and as one who has a living relative BECAUSE HE WAS WEARING A HELMET…please, WEAR YOUR HELMETS. parents, enforce that rule.

talking to them, charles and i heard phrases like, "wondering if….live or die…"  "worst five minutes of my life" "exhausting trying to balance life and work and hospital". three very true statements and their voices, although brave, attested to the fact they were weary. i’m just so graetful that this loved relative is alive, we’re feeling all emotional, not even imagining how the parents are feeling.

but, coming up to three years ago, it was charles and i in that position. and for six weeks, we were wondering if three of our kids were going to get a chance at this world. so that has been lingering with us.

2) jasper went in for a grommet/ear tube operation yesterday. a pretty basic operation and he was definitely charming. but at one point, at around 8am, before the operation, he got a little scared and blurted out that he wanted to call terri and odila. so i let him have his familiarity (he is a social boy) and he left terri a message and spoke with odila. (woke her up, but she didn’t mind.) then it was time to head down to the er. after he came out of the operation, he got very sad and homesick. we called lita and sebastian, and as jasper was given the phone he said, "i love you lita and " he started to say, "i want to come home" but burst into tears instead and could only manage noisy squeaks. many hugs, and only doing a poo in the toilet could cheer him up.

a couple charles and i have met because they are living their own nicu hell, came up to deliver a packet of crayons and a colouring book to jasper. i had mentioned he would be having the operation, and she remembered. i can’t believe the kindness of people, who amidst their own hell, remember others. that so touched me.

thankfully, today jasper was released. all staff members were charmed to meet jasper and his siblings, who happily trooped to the hospital to hug their brother and exclaim that they loved him.

3) we came home with the intention of picking up the grocery list and heading down to park n shop. we burst into the flat and sebbie exclaimed, "olivia just said how glad she is that jasper is back!"

a nice sentiment, except, olivia hadn’t said that at all.

olivia, our cat of 10 years, died this morning, between 9am-10.30am.

olivia.

i have suspected (and voiced to many of you) my fears that olivia was getting sicker. she just wasn’t as interested in things as she had been a few months earlier. strings across the floor weren’t chased, she didn’t meow as loudly, all she wanted to do was lie on our bed, or by the heater, and purr while being patted.

charles and i had a terrible experience when our first cat, xia xia or cee-cee passed away. she was miserable at the vet’s. olivia loved the warmth of the heater and given that we found her today on the sofa, infront of the heater, stretched out with her tummy getting maximum warmth, we know she was content when she died. she looked peaceful. we know olivia loved us, particularly charles, very much. we know that in the last few weeks, she had been getting maximum tummy time on our bed.

last night, i was alone in bed (charles spent the night with jasper at the hospital), and olivia was in our room. she was noisier than she had been for months, meowing a few times. she was on the bed, and i cuddled her and petted her, while noticing that she had stopped and was sitting on areas of the floor that she doesn’t normally sit on. (she has favourite spaces). we had smooches. and i told her she was a very lovely lady.

this morning i took jasper his breakfast and charles some coffee and orange juice  to the hospital and i told charles that olivia had been meow-ier than she had been in months. maybe our friend jennifer had been right, maybe, at 14 years old, olivia was just sliding into a dignified old age where things like string and licking tiger balm/a535 were no longer of interest to her.

and we came home, and she was dead.

and then it was time to have the talk with sebastian. we went through the, but will she come back alive? and then

but i never said goodbye!

which led to,

will she stay with us?

(she was in the back, wrapped in a blanket and in a tiffany bag…we figured she would appreciate that touch. only the best for our best cat. did you know charles renamed olivia from her original name "olive" because he said a cat as graceful, dark and mysterious as olivia deserved a better name?)

and then we explained we needed to take her to the vet’s. and sebastian came out with,

the vet’s? is that the animal heaven?

and it was so good to tell him that i believed that olivia was in heaven already. then we had a discussion on what she was doing in heaven, and whether she would get her own private heater, or whether she would share a heater with other cats and make friends. this possibility got him smiling, and i think we handled that part of it okay.

it has just been a very long week.

please – wear your helmets.

how do you mend a broken heart

it’s a tough day for sebastian.

annie has left the building, and hong kong.

annie. yes, ringletted, cheerleading, lovely annie, 33.33 % of the sebastian, adam and annie trio.

sebastian has known annie is moving for about one month now, and he figured she was moving from the building, or going on a holiday like a lot of people do at Christmas. guess again, kitten. nope, she’s going back to aus.

to give annie a royal send off, saturday night magnificent and i invited annie and adam to spend the night. the evening started with annie jumping into the bath with sebastian and racing around with him in the tub until adam arrived. at which point, everyone in their pajamas they sat down and ate a pizza, shared with asheligh, adam’s younger sister and the triplets. and then we set the kids up in the playroom, where the guests selected the evening’s viewing: star wars and superman (chris reeve version).

they were very good, and at 8.30pm i brought out the bedding and they happily laid down. every too often someone would get out of bed with the report like,

"tess, adam hurt his elbow"

"tess, sebastian pinched me"

"mummy, annie drank some of my ribena"

"tess, annie choked on some popcorn but she didn’t vomit."

and magnificent and i would nod, and look at each other. adam’s mum came up for a bit, to hug adam goodnight and during that time the kids sometimes directed their newsflashes to her. and she nodded and we continued talking.

popcorn in bed time, and that was a bit of a hit as well. three bowls so no fights.

then we had the big "we’re having pancakes in the morning but you’re not" discussion which had to go two against one in every combination and permutation. which involved each kid racing into our room to check they would indeed, be eating pancakes come morning. after child number three came into our room we informed the amigos that unless behaviour improved there would be NO pancakes come the morning.

around 9.15 i realised this three kids one bed wasn’t working and got in there and divided them all up. annie volunteered for the sofa, and i separated seb and adam. 15 minutes later the movie was off, annie was sleeping happily and adam and sebbie were whispering contendedly. when they weren’t coming to see me, or doing one of their 1,000 wees.

"tess, why do you say poopers instead of poo?"

"i’m not really sure."

"mum, adam is scared but he isn’t anymore."

"well, that’s good. goodnight, sebastian."

finally it got to the point (at 11pm, i don’t think i am being unreasonable here!) where i said to the boys, "you are not listening to me when i tell you to stop talking and go to sleep. so what you are saying is that you want me to call adam’s dad and get him to come and get adam? go home? no more sleepover or pancakes in the morning?"

"noooooooooo?"

"well, it is definitely bedtime boys."

five minutes later, mouths were open and they were snoring softly. we sent the parents text messages and we all smiled.

and in the morning, too soon after they fell asleep, they woke up and ate pancakes.

and now, too soon before bouncing into our life with her curls, big blue eyes, and smiles, annie is leaving tonight. i don’t know when seb can see her again, but today, as i look into seb’s face and know he doesn’t fully get it, but he will soon, i am grateful that time takes away the intensity of our feelings.

putting on a good face

i went for a walk today. a good morning for it, the path had been freshly swept and the tai chi people were smiling and greeting me because it had been a few days since we had seen each other. i love my city.

it is 2007, and i am months away from being 37. and having spent a decade in hong kong.

one decade ago i didn’t know i would look like this. future wrinkles weren’t a concern – noxema was (and is) my only fight against aging , and wasn’t too concerned about it how i would look, probably because i have never been a huge believer that i look too good to begin with. i’m not a makeup kind of girl and even if i were, there’s no portrait in my attic, i knew i would age, and looking at gran and my mum i knew the years would likely be kind to me, but i didn’t know where the lines would fall. or how many inches the boobs would. the lines, they’re okay. very deep when smiling. the ones around my eyes show that i have seen alot, and focused on things far away, and close to me. smiled and scowled at them.

words on a page. in the 32 years i have been reading, i have spent countless hours with typewritten characters brought to life by clever writers. i have also spent hours idly leaving suntan oil fingerprints on pages of pulpy novels as i sat sitting on white beaches smiling as charles beside me built a boat, mcgyver like, out of sticks, straws, pieces of bathing suit, gum and twine. cheering and chastising the characters has given my face lines.

i have seen things from a distance. mount everest. watching govenor Chris Patten leave his house for the last time on june 30, 1997, nepalese royalty one week before their assassination, dolphins, whales, famous celebrities, loved ones approaching and leaving, me. squinting at them all. trying to imprint it forever.

i have seen some things up close. emotions on strangers and loved ones faces. i held sebastian when he was seconds old, i watched jasper’s eyes open for the first time, i saw carys equate me with security, and relax as i touched her face. i saw sela instinctively root towards my chest the first time i ever held her. i have seen love up close. and other things. courage at funerals where people are so brave you clench your mouth and squeeze your eyes for them. i have seen pain in friends eyes and heard it in their voices i find my mouth pursed and my eyes wet, my words useless, my arms the only consolation.

i never knew 37 years would be like this. i never knew it would be this good. that life would be so tough, so challenging, but so rewarding.  the lines don’t share enough. i am so glad the 27 year old came and stayed. gave hong kong and love a chance.

keep or return the gift?

christmas is the one time of year where magnificent charles and i really evaluate our living in asia. actually, it is only i that really do. magchar is convinced this is the best place for him professionally and for the family. given that i don’t drive, where else could we live and survive? not very likely north america indeed.

living in hong kong is an incredible gift for us. and i would like to think we cherish it. today we went for a long walk along the reservoir, and halfway up to the peak, and when the kids weren’t nearly tumbling down the hill or into the water, they were exclaiming over the old cement structures from world war two (santa claus lives here) or the leafy plants and turtles.

but still, it is difficult at times to be so far away. i would like my kids to have a snowy Christmas, surrounded by kin.

and am i idealistic to think they would have a better idea of what it means to be Canadian if they were actually living in Canada? or would they just have a better idea of what Canada looks like? but then, as many people point out to me, my kids see more of canada than a lot of canadians do. they’ve been to the northwest territories, seen several places in ontario, alberta and british columbia. not bad.

but still, the heart wants what the heart wants, and this time of year, i want family.

we called charles’ family the other day as the kids were screaming over the presents that they had received from charles’ sister and i was screaming over the books the kids and i had received from charles’ dad. the girls received dolls (promptly and pragmatically named pink and blue) and i wanted the rellies to hear the excitement and joy. but of course, time zone differences…they were in a rush, but still charles managed to speak with most people and then boom, it was over. and then we couldn’t call back because of the phone lines being down the next few days because of the earthquake. knowing they were all together, we wanted to be there also. but we’ve made our beds, and living away from home, this is part of the price we pay.

but could it be any other way? could we survive in canada?

of course. you suck it up. but what is to say we would even be in toronto if we did move back? if we were based in vancouver we would probably be able to visit toronto even less of the time, given the appaling cost of flying cross country.

this malaise of the heart will go away in a couple of days, it usually does. but for now, i’m wistful.

(and i will say being without internet for five days was certainly an odd experience! WOW).

a flurry of curry

saturday night, being me, i ate curry at around 8pm.

at around midnight i made the pronouncement, "i don’t feel so good".

that thought and slight variations of it, were the dominant thoughts and slight dreams i had from 1am-7am. sort of like a Christmas card with "happy Christmas" written on it in every language known to man. it all comes down to the same thing. for me, i had a mouthful of saliva (always ominous), sweats, and had to prop myself upwards. and cramps, upper gi ones, sharp ones, that woke me up from my dreams every 20 minutes or so.

at 7am sebastian skipped into our room and said, "let’s wake up! tomorrow is Christmas!" and i said, "charles, i cannot go to church. cannot."

magchar looked at me, as i briefly explained my symptoms and as he drilled me on the date of my last period i could tell he was thinking ectopic pregnancy but the dates didn’t fit and AS IF we could ever get pregnant naturally anyway. and then he pressed down on my stomach and (dramatically i might add) lifted his hand up. i was so alarmed at how my stomach jiggled when he removed his hand i did a sharp intake of breath. "oh boy" said magchar.

i clued in.

"i don’t have appendicitis."

"but just then when i pressed in…classic sign, tess"

"i was disgusted with my lack of muscle tone, i am a fat sloth. but i am not a sloth with appendicitis."

he did it again and i stayed silent, this time refusing to look at my stomach. and my personal physician agreed i did not have appendicitis.

i stayed in my room and writhed in bed for a few more hours. after church my angelic, almost pope like husband took the kids to the club for lunch and i writhed some more. the diahhrea, or as it is commonly known in our house, "poo juice" had started earlier in the morning. but i still felt vile. and the appalling egg burps were killing me.

at 2pm, the cramps were so bad that i took a swallow of some mint flavoured mylanta. ten minutes later, 18 hours after i had eaten the curry, and 30 seconds before my kids walked in the door, i realised it was time to play deja vu with the curry. i was no where near the bathrooms.

but i was near the kitchen sink.

the kids were very impressed to see green peas coming out of mummy’s nose. i was very glad i hadn’t eaten chickpeas.

while recovering and wondering how i could ever get this taste out of my mouth, i noticed the mylanta had expired in 2005.

and now poor Charles is sick with the same thing.

i’ll write about Christmas in a couple of days, but in the meantime, thank you to everyone who made it so great.

in u2’s plaintive song, "beautiful day" they gently prod then push at listeners not to forget that no matter what state your personal world is in, it’s still a beautiful day out there.

beautiful day was one of the first songs to make it to my ipod and a classic for all times. right up there with 3 dog night’s "mama told me not to come". (nothing if not classy babe am i).

there’s a line i think of often from that song. the other day i was walking downhill from sebastian’s school down to central (and it is all downhill) and i saw a group of tourists taking the peak tram up to victoria peak. they were amazed watching the city unfold infront of them.

and then came the song…

it’s a beautiful day,                                                                                                                 don’t let it get away.

twisting in their seats fingers poised over their cameras waiting for the perfect shot. or maybe, sadly, letting it get away.

See the world in green and blue
See China right in front of you

i stopped walking and smiled, seeing how overwhelmed they were by hong kong which alongside the peak tram is a kalaidascope of colours and attitudes. hong kong can do that do you. it was a crisp day with a hot yellow sun, hong kong was really showing itself off. i kept standing there watching them watching hong kong, i like seeing my city being admired.

two days later, it was me on a train, a different train, the kcr, as i headed to shenzhen, china to do a little last minute shopping and to check out the artists enclave i have heard so much about and wanted to see for so long. i was going with my friends barbara and odila and a few of their friends. as the faithful kcr chugged along (the kcr takes you to the new territories and then up to lo wu, from there you cross over into china), we were past the racecourse in sha tin, and the university, and it was marshy, green, with herons, cows, really a different feeling from the hong kong i know. and before we got to sheung shei station, i noticed that i could see the highrises of shenzhen.

See the world in green and blue
See China right in front of you

i can see it.

i went to my tailor, got some pants made for charles and put in an order for a top made for myself. i have long arms and while that is beneficial for sports, it is a hassle when i am wearing sweaters because the sleeves are always so short and snaking above my wrists. i DISLIKE THAT INTENSELY. (nothing like a little reminder that my anal retentive tendencies are alive and well.)

then shopped around a little bit, and found a place that i sometimes have trouble tracking down that had ferragamo boots for sale. real ferragamo. so i bought a pair of brown boots that actually fit in with my lifestyle. check them out.

http://www.styledrops.com/shoes-83_5.html

they’re the terry ones. they look good with jeans or a long skirt. which is what i wore them with today. and i paid about $50 us for them. they are great.

then we left the mall, and in a taxi headed off to the artists enclave. the taxi driver got "lost" aka: let’s take these three women for the scenic ride but we got there in one piece (i had sms’d charles the taxi driver’s license plate and number just in case he kidnapped us). and the enclave was so peaceful, so unlike shenzhen which you associate with people grabbing you and saying, "missy missy, latest fashion come here and buy now, watches, purse, movies, gucci, prada" etc.

it was another buttery sunshine day and about one city block had every single building dedicated to art shops. it was amazing. local traffic only, so we cruised along happily, as did bicyles, children, birds and very contented cats. and the artwork was stunning. every medium, every form, incredible.

i found an artist i really like. i’ve been looking for some art to go behind our bed, but we have a sleigh bed so i have to be careful with the frame. and i think i found him. he is a very interesting fellow. i bought one of his original prints, not for behind the bed. we all bought something. and laughed.

it was starting to get dark, and we had to get home. i had forgotten that china, that shenzhen could be like this. there are "lazier" sections of hong kong, but this area was just wonderful. i might even get a sketch of the kids done at some point. anything is possible.

we said goodbye (with much hilarity) to the area, piled into a taxi and headed back to lo wu, and then zoomed back into hong kong.

See the world in green and blue
See China right in front of you

it was a beautiful day.

boy was i wrong

oh ho ho no bottle of rum for you frugal blake.

here i am telling blog land that you are such a quiet man, spare with words and gossip and you go blabbing stories.

it wasn’t snakes and ladders anyway you boob, it was parcheesi. which makes your reporting inaccurate.

you want to get libellous

i will get litigious

then we can both write a book on the experience and make plenty of dosh.

how can a loser ever win?

the kids are moving past stacking rings (although forever loyal to THE WIGGLES) and on to a new stage in entertainment – puzzles. i have moved the puzzles down to a more reachable level and they are quite pleased to be able to play puzzles or words whenever they please. i have also moved the scrap or recycled paper and crayons to their level, so now sela doesn’t need to come to me with her imperious command, "i need to draw" whenever the spirit moves her.

one of the kids best presents EVER and one that i will always keep came from lucy. (that would be the same miracle worker who bathed and fed sebastian dinner at her house for the first month after the triplets came home and charles was out of the country). she got them wooden puzzles with their names on them. brightly coloured and rectangle shaped, then the letters come falling out of the puzzle and can be pushed back in.

sela is unimpressed with me that i selected her such a short name. she mastered her name puzzle a year ago and has been mentally petitioning for a name change to "marie antoinette" "queen elizabeth the third" or some other letter lengthy name, although i suspect she feels entitled to the title business.

she quite enjoys doing the "sebastian" puzzle, and slaps the letters into place, "e" is for ear, "b" is for ball, and whenever i hand her the "s", even though it is the "sebastian" puzzle, she says as if it is the most normal thing in the world, ""s" is for sela".

carys is more methodical about achieving her puzzle, which is a good thing because it gives me more time to remember what things "y" is for. yogurt? ypsilante? yams? yaks? please don’t remind the queen of reflux about yakking.

jasper likes his name although he believes that every letter is "s" and stands for jasper. but they love those puzzles.

while they are puzzling out life, sebastian and i are playing "concentration", basically where you lay the cards down and try to get pairs. we have a set based on underwater sea life characters….seals, puffer fish, crabs, sea lions, sharks, clams, octupus.. you get the picture.

naturally, i lose on purpose. like most kids and adults, seb hates to lose and wouldn’t play the game if he thought he was going to lose. and concentration is meant to help him learn to concentrate in school and i am supposed to be helping him bla bla bla. the problem is, if he is going to win the game, that means i have to lose. like most kids and adults, i don’t particularly enjoy losing, even when it is my beloved offspring winning.

does this make me a bad or less maternal person? do i care?

when he’s wiggling his (admittedly very cute) tushie in a dance i know he learned from me saying "woo woo i’m on fire yes i am" …it is very tempting to inform the exile from my loins that the only reason he is winning is because i am letting  him. instead i get modest revenge and enjoy seeing panic flare in his little eyes as i get three pair in a row which usually gets him worried and recounting his pairs like scrooge mcduck. but honestly.

when can i start winning? how will my child ever appreciate my brilliance if i don’t start beating him (at games) on a daily basis. i think i should start now.