Good-fer-Nuthin Baby

I am wiped.

You’d never know it, to see me in public. We went to the farmers market yesterday and I carried on as normal. But get me back into our vehicle or home, and I’m not good for much.

I have managed to do the dishes, so that’s something. But otherwise? Yeesh. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. You’d think I hadn’t slept for a week, or had been working hard. Nope.

Maybe it’s the weather. It’s been windy and cool (cold, even!) except for one afternoon, which I spent on the deck at the lake.


Still those four days went fast. I got through three old journals, kept the odd photo or letter or bit of writing, and then got up about 6:30 on two mornings to make a fire and burn the rest before it got too windy.

burning journals

It was surprising how many things I’d completely forgotten, like taking an hour-and-a-half in 1985 to get eight miles in a snowstorm and then hitting the ditch 100 feet from our aunt and uncle’s. You’d think you might remember that, wouldn’t you? I was with my brother Cameron at the time and he doesn’t remember it either. I do now that my memory’s been jogged, but otherwise it was gone gone gone.


Poor Duckie Doodle was shivering so I put his little jacket on him while I sat there with my coffee.


Scott came out for suppers and spent a couple nights at the lake with me; otherwise I was alone except for Mr Doodle. The days flew by. I walked a few doors down to see Barb the first morning and talk about Oscar, but otherwise I was solitary and that was perfectly okay too.


As usual I lugged out far more clothing and food and books than I used. Why I can’t seem to pare down, I do not know.

Oscar’s funeral was Friday morning and I expected it to be tough. I’m 59 and Oscar is the first person (apart from the husband of an old friend) my age, whom I love, to go from my life. I’ve been fortunate, haven’t I, in that? Their three sons spoke beautifully about their dad (and their mom, sitting there in front of them) and I was proud of their hearts and humour. What courage it takes to get up there in front of a packed hall, standing room only, and tell people so many good things about your dad when it’s gotta be killing you to deal with the reality. I couldn’t do it — I’d soon melt into a puddle and be unable to continue — so I truly admire those who have the guts. My sister Karen sang; that also would be impossible for me.

It was wonderful to see other relatives and old friends; that’s the healing part of funerals, I guess.

I returned to the cabin, made a fire in the pit, and sat looking at the flames and the water for a while. Smoke from the BC wildfires had blown in and gave us (Scott had joined me) a nice red sunset before a huge wind came up and drove us indoors.

big red sunset

The waves were loud and scary and huge as they beat against the rocks in front of the cabin, and this went on all night. I couldn’t help feeling it reflected the emotions many of us are experiencing. Besides the incredulity, loss and sorrow, there is upset and anger, too, that life dealt this hand to Oscar.

I’m thinking about him a lot and trying to convince myself that he’s in a “better” place so maybe I can let it go a little. But he had such a fabulous life, really, that I’m not sure any other place could be better for him. You know? It’s just not right.

I kinda just want to go back to bed and stay there.

On a lighter note:

August 8, 1968
An employee on the farm of Allan
Geck recently found the mother cat
suckling four new kittens and a baby
skunk. No one but the cat knows just
when the little stranger arrived but he
was apparently made welcome. -reprinted from Wadena News, Looking Back.


5 thoughts on “Good-fer-Nuthin Baby

  1. I believe you’re probably wiped because you’re dealing with sadness. Its hard trying to be strong and not let your emotions get the better of you, and even when you let them, it is equally exhausting. Takes a lot of work, in my mind. XO
    Littlest ugliest sis

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Kathy, it is called grieving, for someone who was so special to you. Listen to what your body is telling you. .I believe every single part of your body is in a state of shock, but listen to what your body is telling you- sleep? rest? cry? talk? eat? Crying and talking are so healing.
    The whole service was very much a celebration of Oscar’s life. There was such an outpouring of compassion, caring , love , tenderness and kindness. But one could also see and feel the pain, the grief and the hurting hearts.
    We have all lost a very special person.
    I pray that God’s arms of love and compassion surround all and help to bring healing in His time.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Grief has its own special way of exhausting you. It saps everything physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally. Sleep and sleep and sleep.

    Why did you burn your journals?

    I am truly sorry for your loss. xo

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Sorry for your loss Kate. I find funerals helpful for the grieving process, my family did not hold a funeral for my brother, but at least his mother and siblings stood by his grave when he was buried, and talked about his life. Grief is very hard work.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I so admire your thoughtfulness and your acceptance as you face your grief. It made me think of the two largest losses in my life: my father, first, then my mother. I was amazed at our ability as a family to find the wonderful things that make you laugh and the equally wonderful things that can’t be accepted without tears. I had expected incredible sadness and found that in each case I knew that the person I was missing would have wanted us to have that complete experience.

    Liked by 1 person

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