I got cut off yesterday, or should I say interrupted. That's why the abrupt end. I believe I was waxing philosophical about something or other. Some kind of heartache. Something. I'm mired in all the trials and tribulations of my family, my kids, their kids, their loves, until I think I have disappeared in the depth of it all. Who am I anyway? Am I more than the reflection of them? I don't know anymore.

But it's 163 days today till retirement. Seriously, in all honesty, I do not know if I can make it. Taking a look at the numbers, including today, that's 109 work days, 54 days off. It's 23 and a half more weeks. It's one more Christmas, one more Thanksgiving, one more Remembrance Day, one more back-to-school season, one more New Years. It's one more paid week of holidays this year, and the four weeks next year. Will I make it?

Doctors appointment tomorrow, seeing Dr. Black again. Will I make it? Maybe he can say...

I think maybe heartache can kill you. My girl Asia is having the summer of a lifetime. She's living with a close girlfriend, her long lost love has come back from across the water, she's got her first job, she's staying out late with friends and sleeping half the day away and just having a great old time. But she is leaving heartache and pain and depression and sadness and a devastated grandmother in her wake. At 16, a girl needs to be at home. She needs to WANT to be at home. She needs to WANT to be with her sisters, and to kid around with her Dad, to fight with her mother and play with her dog. She has to keep a messy bedroom, spend hours on the phone, fight over whose turn it is to do dishes, and to find creative ways to get out of doing homework. A 16-year-old girl should have a paycheque from her first job, and it should go toward a bit of savings, absolutely, but mostly it should be spent on movies and funky jewelry and designer jeans and uncomfortable shoes. It should not have to be spent on rent, or her own school fees, on her own sanitary supplies and shampoo. If this 16-year-old girl knew what was good for her, she'd go home. She'd stay at home. But she's breaking my heart.

Wow. June 9 was my last post. I was going to try to practice getting better about this, since it's another one of the things I want to do in retirement, if I live that long. But more than a month has gone by. The good news is that my retirement count down went from 233 days to the current 185 days. That's pretty cool. Still seems a long time away though.

Having a nice summer. Great weather for the petunias. We've had a ton of rain and some nice hot baking sun. The flowers love that. I'm going to put pictures on Facebook, so I can look back at them in future years and sigh.

So, I'm going to paste in a little thing I wrote for Father's Day this year. It's just a bit of a remembrance about my father. He wasn't a perfect man by any means, but he was smart and funny and he did his best with what he had to help my mother raise two unruly daughters. God bless his heart and may he rest in peace.

Here it is:

My Dad

My Dad loved to get presents. His eyes would sparkle like a little kid's on Father’s Day or his birthday when it was time to open presents. He loved gift cards and lottery tickets and baseball caps and funny shirts. He loved puzzles and books and almost anything related to the Second World War. He loved chocolate and shortbread cookies. If all else failed, you could buy him socks. He loved it all.

On Christmas day, for as long as I can remember, my Dad was the first one up in the morning. Mom recalls him saying every single year, “It’s time to wake up the girls.” He loved to watch us open our presents, but he was always just as excited to tear the paper off his own gifts.

Now, on special occasions in the summer, we take flowers to his grave. We stay and visit for a while. In the winter, we straighten up his Christmas wreath and his little Christmas tree. And we just wish we could see his eyes sparkle one more time over a gift-wrapped package with his name on it.

That's it. That's all there is. One little fact about my Dad. We miss him a lot. And he wasn't ready to depart this mortal coil. Even at age 88 and with a mushy old heart that wasn't working very well, and after a lifetime of living for the moment, he would have tried to bargain with the Lord for just one more year. But he didn't know that was his last day, so the Lord caught a break. Dad was sitting in a chair, waiting for his physio therapist to come for some therapy they were doing. She looked over at him, and his head had drooped toward his chest. She called his name and he didn't answer. She went over and could see that he had passed out. She called the paramedics and they tried to restart his heart, but to no avail. My mother was called out of hymn-sing, where she had just a little while before waved goodbye to Dad as he headed out the door to physio. "See you later, dear," he said with a little smile and a wave. How prophetic was that? They will be together later. Much later, I hope. Mom misses him terribly, but she's fortunate in that she dreams about him so often. She says he comes to her in her dreams about three or four nights out of seven. They dance and travel and argue and he even hugs and kisses her. So Dad's been gone since Nov. 20, 2007. It will soon be three years. Hard to believe.

As usual, nothing new or unusual going on in my life. I should appreciate that, shouldn't I! Somebody remind me that "nothing new or unusual" is a rare privilege in life.

But I'm not whining about it. It's good. The days are rolling on by, and my retirement count-down is at 233 days today. I keep thinking of more and more things I'll do when that glorious time comes. One thing is going to be cooking. Maybe even baking. And walking. And getting up whenever I feel like it in the mornings. That might be early. Or late. Whatever time my internal alarm clock tells me. And on my "never again" list is driving in rush hour traffic. Never doing that again.

I will have a garden too. And I will be cleaning and sorting and planning for the Mother of All Garage Sales. Aaah the things I'll do. Aaah the places I'll go. Sigh.

I'm back. Like the bad penny, I'm home from a brief vacation in Las Vegas, and officially back in the saddle at the office. Sigh. I was only away four days, but you'd think I'd been gone a month for the giant shitstorm that awaited my return. The weekend is five days away, and retirement? Well, that's still 242 days away.

I am woman, hear me whimper.

This too shall pass...

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger...

The will of God won't take you where the grace of God can't protect you...

Saints preserve us...

This is not helping.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day... but it doesn't look likely.

Okay so by now everybody knows I'm counting down to retirement. As of today, it's 252 days. Every now and then I torture myself by calculating the hours. Today is a Friday before a long weekend, so it seemed appropriate to do the hours again – 6,048. Yes, I am certifiable.

However, this is one of those days when I love my job the most. I am so lucky. I work with awesome people, doing some writing, some coordinating of freelancers, some fine-tuning and organizing of upcoming features, and a lot of page layout. I have a lovely desk in a typical office cube-farm, but my little corner of the world is next to a beautiful big window that looks out over a couple of city streets, a parking lot, a couple of hotels, a sleazy nightclub and lots of traffic action. My favourite is the one-way street that confuses many drivers and they wind up going the wrong way. Always something fun to watch.

Best of all, today it's raining. I can hear the big fat raindrops hitting the window behind me, and for some weird reason, that's always a calming sound. And being the Friday before a long weekend, it's also very quiet around me. And I'm on holidays next week so I have a good, steady roster of things to do today.

It's a good day. A really good day. If there were more like this, retirement might not seem so attractive, or so far away.

Time is a funny thing, is it not. When it's stretching out in front of you before a nice holiday or a long weekend or anything good, it seems to take FORever to pass. When it stretches out in front of you before a dentist's appointment, it flies by in a heartbeat. But no matter what, when it's behind you, it seems to have passed in a blur. Take right now for instance. It's Wednesday, May 19, 2010 at 1:23 p.m. I have precisely 253.5 days till retirement. Tonight I'm buying a couple of Iced Caps from Timmies and taking doughnuts over to Moms for our weekly visit. We both love that little time on Wednesdays. But tomorrow, this will all blend into the big stewpot of our history. I'm not feeling well today - some kind of tummy upset. I hope it goes away in the next four days, cuz then we leave for five days in Las Vegas.

Last night was Asia's first night away from home. Apparently she has chosen not to live there anymore. Good thing she got out now, while she still knows everything. Or at least, that used to be the joke about teenagers. In truth, this is no laughing matter. I worry about her constantly. I hope she comes to her senses soon, and goes back home where she belongs. :(