A sad and happy time

Today I was visiting God on his own turf, in a church. There are a couple reasons most of us end up in a church these days and sadly mine was for the wrong reason. I was there to say goodbye to a friend, Ian Anderson. 

The past weekend when I returned home from Utah, I heard that a man had died after finishing his running leg in the Kananaskis 100 Relay. I remember feeling a pange of sadness for his family. I got the call 2 days later from Craig that the man was Ian.

Shit.

Fuck.

I had laughed and told jokes with Ian 4 weeks before when him and his wife Gill came to my slideshow presentation of Bhutan. It was lovely to see them as it had been a while. Ian was in his early 60's and always had a bright and curious look in his eyes and a big smile. I didn't realize until after his death that he had a prestigious education, career and was a big-time smartie pants. :-) But I should have known since he always seemed to add something meaningful to most topics that were brought up. Gill his wife is a fire cracker of an aussie women (they breed them well there) who is lively, interesting and active. Ian was an avid outdoor enthusiast, although that I have to admit that when I first met him he came across as more of a brainy computer nerd than athlete. :-) I used to joke that I wasn't sure what Ian and Gill had in common all these years but I just hadn't looked hard enough. There were photos of Ian in marathons, on hikes, sailing and very much looking like a man at home in the outdoors. Old black and white photos showed him to be a dashingly handsome man and Gill was equally attractive. They made a handsome couple.

When I saw Ian and Gill at my home, Colin's parent's Nancy and Roger were there (visiting from Vancouver) I was really pleased that Nancy and Roger had other people closer to their age to speak to. Nancy and Gill were talking about how lovely it is to have grandchildren. Roger and Ian were happily mixing with the group.

I walked into the house of God somewhat resentful and sad. I couldn't help but think what we would have had for Colin if the wanker had let us have a memorial. I think I'll always be a little pissed at him for that stunt, but I'm sure I'll be able to tell him so the next time we see it other. It won't be that long in the cosmic scheme of things.

But today I was with people who loved and would greatly miss Ian. His running team showed up in their running gear and at the end of the service ran ahead of the Limo to the hall for a wake. No, I can't in good conscious call it a wake since there was no alcohol. In the catholic tradition a wake without alcohol is a why-bother since the whole point is to get stinking drunk so you can be crying, soppy and maudlin, while you laugh and tell stories of the one who is sadly missed. I hope that comes later for some people since I do think it really helps. I can imagine a therapist somewhere reading this and cringing at my blue collar advice.  

I will miss Ian's light on this planet, since he was of those guys who added to the brightness here.

Speaking of brightness I think of the new shining star, Claire. Catherine gave me a lovely gift this week. She asked me if I would baby-sit Claire. I showed up thinking that I haven't held a baby in 15 years and hadn't babysat since I was 12. But I sure wanted to try! I figured it was no worse than when mothers and fathers get home with a new baby and are left to fend for themselves for the most part. 

Catherine gave me a brief explanation of how to change a diaper. And then left for her much deserved run. If it would have been an easy-peasy pamper or huggie it would have been no problem but instead its the environmental 3 piece save the planet diaper. Complex when you have a wiggling baby, or shall I say thrashing baby when she is throwing a fit. Whoa! I had no idea a Baby could scream that much or get those little arms and legs so stiff ! I was kind of impressed to be honest. However once diaper was changed, she calmed down rather quickly. Then I was able to watch this new little life as she would look around and see the world through 7 week eyes. Every now and then she would focus on me and I wondered if she had any idea of how much I loved her. I wouldn't have cared if she cried the whole time I would have been happy to spend time with her. But as magic would have it I soon had a sleeping baby on my very tired arm. I'll assume my walking and hypnotic singing was of help, maybe, hell if know. But eventually I was able to sit down, lean back and feel the miracle of a sleeping baby against my chest. Small and defenseless, I told my body to remember exactly how she felt. The warmth of her skin, her rag-doll little arms and legs and the rapid breathing, the feeling of her face against my neck. "Remember" I whispered to myself.... I know that in a blink of an eye she will be a child running wildly like a sprite. I felt like I could see a determination in her eyes all ready, I could be totally bullshit imagining that, put I can feel that little fiery soul in there.

I got to feel a deeper connection to Claire. And to Catherine too because she is trusting me and allowing me to be here. I doubt she will know how important it is to me, but on the other hand Catherine and I have resonated in many ways with the character of our grief. I don't know if that's weird or not, but we're ok with it and I know it helps both of us.

I keep doing a double check to see if this connection to Claire is going to kick in a desire for children of my own but nope not so far. It just feels amazing to have these rather cool maternal instincts.

So like my title of the blog says both sadness and joy are sitting beside each other today and I have this creeping awareness that the line between which one is good or bad is less of an issue than it used to be for me. They are both the natural order of things and there is beauty in Ian's passing. I think of all the people who care about him that are feeling in their hearts right now and connecting, hugging and sharing with each other. I think it would make Ian smile his big beaming smile.

I'll look forward to Claire's beaming smile too.

Type one, two and three fun

Hello happy readers, long time no type! Let me introduce you to a very handy grading system for fun. My friend and I devised this and have found it very effective to help access activities you willingly decide to do under the banner of "This'll be fun". Maybe... maybe not...

Type One Fun: The activity feels like fun when you're doing it, you remember it as fun after the fact. I would think getting a massage by a good looking man in a loin cloth while on the beach with the sounds of ocean waves serenading you could be Type One Fun, happy finish or not.

Type Two Fun: The activity is probably more work or harder than you expected. There could be a fear factor associated with it, ie: "If I fall off my bike now this is going to really, really hurt". You may even question your sanity in the moment of doing the activity. "If I ever decide to run another marathon, I hope someone punches me in the stomach". HOWEVER, something quite remarkable happens with Type Two Fun activities. After the fact, once you can actually breath, your feet are firmly planted on the ground, the soreness has worn off etc, you remember the activity as fun. You will tell your friends it was fun and you will start planning your next Type Two Fun event. There is some sort of selective memory thing at work here because we've all done it.

Type Three Fun: You thought the activity was going to be fun, however once you're engaged in it, you realize its not frick'n fun at all. It probably feels like some form of torture or hell. Trying to get off a mountain in a blinding snow storm, with the temperature dropping and you're scared as hell to slip - might be Type Three Fun. Limping across a finish line with a torn hamstring could be Type Three Fun. You don't remember Type Three Fun as being fun either. You're usually glad you came out alive or you wonder what the hell you were thinking in the first place. Your brain remembers Type Three Fun quite vividly and its not a good memory.

This past weekend I experienced all types of fun, one, two and three. However I could say they were in reverse order. The assorted dubious running characters once again hopped on a plane to partake in a Relay Race. Past years have seen us burning up the pavement in the 200 mile Hood to Coast relay race starting from Mt Hood and ending in Seaside, Oregon. Last year we discovered the beautiful Willamet Valley and all the Pinot Noirs waiting to be drank. Other years we've wine tasted wine in Sonoma and Napa and oh ya there was this thing called "The Relay" 199miles from Calistoga to Santa Cruz. This year we decided to mend our wicked drinking ways and head to Utah for the Wasatch Back Relay. 180miles from Park City to Logan. They have weird drinking laws in Utah but in the end that didn't dissuade us from imbibing.

This is where my Type Three Fun started.... on my first leg of the race. 10km of running in approx 98degree heat, hell I don't even know what that is in Celcious except to say it was fucking hot. Nothing about that leg was fun and while I was desperately dousing my self with water, running through sprinklers and just praying for the leg to be over. I also discovered the joys of Chafing. Now I know why babies can be so miserable, need I say more?

The other two legs were definitely Type Two Fun which I don't mind abit. Running hard could never be mistaken for Type One Fun but when its done a runner tends to remember the good feeling of crossing the finish line and your teammates giving you high fives and telling you you ran a good race (even if you didn't) Its that feeling of accomplishment that you remember fondly. The pain during the run is what you have to do before hand is all. :-)

The rest of the weekend is sheer Type One Fun hanging with good friends, seeing a new part of the USA. Sandra said it well after the race when she said "These relays remind me how good life can be" and its true. Being with folks you like, that you have a history and trust with is important. You leave your worries and issues in the car at the airport and enter into a different world for 3 days that has sillyness, laughter, challenge and accomplishment.

There's a reason we all keep coming back for Type One, Two Fun and suffer through Type Three.