I woke up from a bad dream this morning. Mum had died and I was trying frantically to find the phone number for the School of Anatomy so they could come and pick her body up. In real life Mum wasn’t buried or cremated. Her body was donated to the school so it could be used for anatomy lessons for doctors. Then the process was simple; the undertakers took away and she was assessed on the weekend and accepted into the program.
In my dream it never got to that point as various friends and family offered unhelpful suggestions where I could find the damn phone number. Other unpleasant but unrelated things happened in the dream but eventually I woke up and was glad of it. I shouldn’t have been surprised I’d dreamt of something mum-related considering it’s the anniversary (the 4th) of her death.
I haven’t been too maudlin about it today, partly due to the family trait of just ‘getting on with it’. It doesn’t mean I don’t miss her though, and I frequently think of all the things that have happened in my life over the year that I haven’t been able to share with her. It sucks. But there’s not much I can do about it. Instead I try to imagine what she’d say if she were here to tell and that helps a little and makes the distance less.
I called my grandmother this morning and we chatted for a good while. That helped. As did talking to Dad last night, and chatting to my sister on Facebook today. I’ve also received some lovely messages from people in England which touched me. I’m doing fine.
I spent most of today working on more revisions for my book. They’re pretty much done now and I’m waiting for the next lot to come back to me. I worked on a client’s website, did some proofreading for another client, and started work on my author website redesign. I’d been stuck in the house until 2pm so forced myself outside to return some library books and pick up some others that were on hold – and also get some groceries to make dinner.
While walking to the library I was stopped by a roving reporter for CBC News who wanted to ask about hot-desking. Apparently I looked enough like one of the masses whose voice just has to be heard. I fumbled four times over my response. I don’t know why I should be nervous. It wasn’t a hard question. It wasn’t live. I struggle with speaking it seems. I eventually finished and she seemed happy enough with what I said. Then I left, my face burning. I have no idea if it has or ever will go to air. If it does, people are going to wonder about my accent.
In the evening I went to the Royal Ontario Museum for a lecture called Where Journalism and Art Meet. It was an hour-presentation by National Geographic journalist Tom Clynes who talked about assignments he’s been on where extraordinary individuals have dome some extraordinary things. They were a mix of inspiring and tragic stories, ranging from Ebola doctors to elephant whisperers (the guy went into Iraq to save the animals in the Baghdad Zoo DURING the invasion), virus hunters (a guy who’s trying to find the next pandemic/virus before it emerges into human populations and wipes us out) and a guy who’s been researching ice melts in Greenland for the past 30 years. (Hmmm…no women.)
Anyway, a few things caused a lump in my throat, mostly pictures of animals or massive land clearing in the Yukon (a gold mine I think it was), but I also looked at these places, particularly the Yukon, and yearned to see more. While we’re returning to Australia, I think our next few overseas trips for a while are going to be back to Canada to see the Yukon and Northwest Territories. Walking home after the lecture I also realised that Australia has its fair share of outstanding natural places (while they last) so we’ll be going to see a lot there too.
Will I have enough time to see it all? Probably not. There’s just too much to see, but I’m going to do my best to see as much as I can.