CHAPTER 16

I’m only trying to find myself…

A new surname!

After all, aren’t we presumed innocent before proven guilty? I haven’t done anything wrong, have I?

And yet, I have this nagging feeling that people will judge me and not the message. Like I will somehow be extradited… Oh make it France, I love France. I feel bad again for them after the Notre-Dame Cathedral fire… And if it was an Omen?

Since Friday, I’ve been obsessed by the whole thing. Please let me sleep a little while brain! Don’t worry, I won’t forget, promised!

No chance, still the same invasive thoughts in the morning. Doh!

“It won’t be with your own blood that this book will be made of…”.

We angels are pure kindness, don’t worry!

Ink and pixels, it is then!

I said it from the start: I will write my story. However, I was helped a bit, well, a lot by my winged friends. As if they wanted to use my story to make their point. I’ve always been pretty good with everything I attempted in the past. Not excelling at anything but I was once told by one of my teachers:

“You make way too many mistakes my dear girl!”.

I must say however, that today’s technology makes things so much easier! Who knows, I probably would have a totally different life if that would have been available in my time… I guess we will never know… Then again, would angels know these sorts of things, I wonder?

I first started to write, not because they asked but to leave a legacy to my son and my close relatives.

Sort of a way to explain and rationalize all the pain I have experienced, as if seeing all my painful moments on paper could somehow help me better understand it and accept it?

Also, because I have to admit that last week’s hospital close call did get me quite scared of dying this time…

(I got scared that the good Lord somehow heard my belated teenager’s heart cries asking him to come take me…).

That wasn’t meant to be my life, I was saying just this week on a video recording of my personal thoughts, which I unfortunately lost on my husband’s computer. But if only one small component had been changed, I wouldn’t be here today, right now.  

And I want to thank the loves of my life for everything they have given me. Life gave me a gift with a double edge you might say because…

***

A long while ago, before I got to double digits, young talents appeared on a province-wide show called ”L’école du Music-Hall” or one called “Musical des jeunes”, Australia had “Young Talent Time” (depending on the TV station, in those days, if I remember correctly, most homes only had three free-to-air French channels and two English ones in Québec).   

The first time I had the chance to appear on TV, my cousin sang with me. We were ecstatic of course. It was a huge deal to appear on the small screen, especially for little suburbia girls like us. I never imagined then that it would be a regular occurrence throughout my younger years.

«Entering» the television world! WOW! Even more awesome was, that the first time we got the chance to sing with one of the heartthrobs at the time named Paolo Noël... on one of his biggest hits!

What a great venture that first time was. My mom and my aunt drove us to the big city where we ended up on the most famous shopping strip in town: St. Hubert Street.

There was nothing of the kind in our neck of the woods for sure. Shopping Centres were just appearing in Montreal. Nothing of the sort on the North Shore. Then, they took us to the reputable Maison L’allongé, the best place to find closes for the up and coming little rising talent.

Since the song was about a sail boat on the river, a cute little navy-blue sailor-style outfit was what we absolutely, totally needed.

Oh, and next week and the following few weekends, we were in the recording studio with another local star who had a TV show ultra-popular with kids “Fanfan Dédé”. Imagine, appear on a record sleeve with a big star with our cute white skirt with a red border which unfortunately didn’t grow along with us…

Therefore, the next day, as soon as we stepped foot on school, either the other girls were jealous and snubbed us or… Or all of a sudden, girls wanted to be our best friend…

In just one day, our lives changed dramatically and we ended up with more friends than we could ever hope…

Oh. And the fact that we had one of the only pools in the neighbourhood also added to my appeal for sure. So, I ended with a summer entourage and a winter one. Lol!

I must admit that summer television was usually quite boring. Maybe there aren’t enough comedians looking for work? Lol. But seriously. Summer in Québec is very short so most people want to take advantage of it by doing stuff outside. It usually only leaves the old and the sick to watch what’s on the box i.e. We are normally served old shows and movies which cost about nothing to buy for that quiet period where advertisers are also spending less since the potential audience isn’t there to be reached (you guessed it, that was my brother’s explanation… He used to be the one making the media purchasing when he worked for an advertising agency. Still the best job he ever had…

I noticed today that, since I started writing my book, I only seldomly smoke cannabis. Hopefully, it will continue until I complete it… I guess we will see. 

My overall pain level has also diminished, in large part, I must admit, thanks to my healer son…

I am overall better now, except of course, for my spine which has been fused numerous times, by specialists which were meant to make be better but ended up making me far worse…

That, my son cannot do anything about unfortunately.

And I am now convinced that my mission in all this, will be one of transmitter. I will only be a tool for the angels and God to convey and propagate their most vital message. Sorry Oprah but, when I make it onto your show, along with my brother to help with my English, your guests won’t really be us, but them through me…

Because THEY are the ones who inspired this story. I am merely their typist…   

After all, THEY LITERALLY WERE the ones who wrote these prophetic words:    

THERE IS US AFTER THIS!

AND “THANK YOU NATHALIE!”. THEN THEY WROTE MY LIFE!

Yes, a bit like in “a Christmas Carol”, they guided me through the significant events from my past in order to help me understand their significance and help me cope with them.

I was therefore, more or less, just an observer experiencing with a wide array of emotion, which I relived safely in their arms the whole time…

Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.

(During our weekly conversations, we found out that they too have sense of humour at times up there too!).

I however added my own style to the book in order to give it my own flavour with rimes, a bit of poetry and a little humour. I want people to recognize me if I ever publish the book I once worked on or the Musical I have in mind…

Then, Oprah, I could go to your show as myself. And during the commercials, I could reveal the real me to you...

That day, I only wanted to take a photo of my weekend, on this 31 May 2013. The sky was grey. The Weather Lady on TV told us it was going to be a rainy day. I ended up stuck in bed watching an old tv show…

But wait! No, it can’t be! What the…?

I wanted to record the show to prove it really happened but couldn’t find the cord for my damn fuchsia phone to record the video…     

***

As a kid, I remember appearing on the most popular local TV station (privately owned channel 10 at the time, now TVA). However, I only appeared once on Radio-Canada, the government-owned rival. I remember it as if it was yesterday.

Me and my cousin appeared on the TV show “vedette en direct” (Stars live!) with a famous country singer at the time called Willie Lamothe who had a huge hit that summer with a son called “Papa Willie” (we also sang on the original record).

Therefore, when I saw that very same show being broadcasted “live” in front of my own eyes (I never got to see myself originally since VHS recorders had not yet been invented then) I couldn’t help but think that the little innocent girl I was once, would have been quite sad to see the women I had become then.

But today, I am sure she would somehow be laughing.

It just so happened that my hairdresser friend was also watching the same show (she probably didn’t recognize me until I told her). She then realized that I had been a true redhead all along!

After the show, we were given a private tour of some of the other TV sets nearby. Imagine my total amazement when I saw the stage set for my very favourite kids show live in front of my eyes! (a sort of Barney from the 80’s).

I never forgot that moment it was magical!

***

A long time ago, on June 12, 3:10am. I decided to formerly reiterate, once again, the formal request I made to them upon my return from the hospital the last time I came back home…

“I really want a real job, please! I can work from my bed!”.

Well I finally did get a job, even though, for that one, I probably won’t be paid down here but a bit later… I can proudly say that I have really been bloody prolific over the last few days and it feels rather good!   

Actually, with the state of our bridges these days and the incessant daily traffic jams, the best way not to go bonkers with work is to either work on your side of the bridges (i.e. You live south of the river, you work there) or you work from home, which is now increasingly popular thanks to all the technology which is now at our disposal.   

When I said I was on cloud nine, I didn’t mean it literally though.

My life is now at their total disposal and not the contrary, as I was hoping…   

Nevertheless, I totally accepted my fate with open heart, despite the fact that I can now be woken up at any time, day or night (so is my brother on the other side of the globe).

Little anecdote: we have a set day and time when we communicate every week.

Since it is during the day on my clock, on the other side, it is the middle of the night.

Well, when we are about to finish our conversation, they often add something like “send a photo of the pages to your brother now, he just woke up”. Then, sure enough, I receive a message from my brother on Messenger saying he is up and wonders if we are finished… Pretty awesome isn’t it?

As for the “big boss”, well he certainly is an all-around great guy but with him, I don’t know how, but he somehow knows, every time when I try to trick him by fainting to be tired or to need to go…

A bit of a tyrant sometimes but no way I’ll ever complain to anyone about it… He has a habit of making “offers we can’t refuse!

(despite the fact that they keep on repeating that we all have free will, I suspect that he has tricks up his sleeves to get us to go along with his “suggestions”. The man has connections I’ve been told!

I can’t help but notice now that the experience so far has totally changed me, physically as well as mentally.

How can it be otherwise?

You tell me.

I have said it before, I fell like I am the luckiest woman on earth. I somehow knew it from the beginning that my life wasn’t going to be an ordinary one. Since last Sunday, quietly as if I didn’t want to disturb him

(apparently, he is a bit of a workaholic), I’ve been writing a number of messages for him, which I will summarize below.    

(I am now writing on my computer instead of paper)

Merci. Thank you, my Lord, for giving the opportunity to experience all this…

Hi its me your little “Taly” that you love and cherish. I know you probably want to save face in front of the world if, God forbid (sorry!) I stuff up, so I just want to remind you kindly that my faith, and therefore our destiny is in your hands.

I have total confidence in you.

That is all I have to say… Thank you life!  

In the very beginning, when I didn’t really know where this whole venture was going to take me, my tentative tittle for the book was: losing weight with the angels. I guess I had a bit of a fixation…

And, at the time, that type of book was very popular. And that was what I really want at the time.

But lately, I finally understood that being thin just couldn’t be one of your main goals in life.

There are so many more important issues in life to waste time on something like this. And regardless, on the other side, we don’t get to carry it with us our body… Who cares weather you are fat or thin, the way I see it, it only gives you more surfaces for your lover to provide you with his caresses…?

 And at that time, my main concern, the inner pain which afflicted me, I called it the “caress struggle”.

This fixation started long ago. From my first night out with friends, I recall. Imagine, we took the metro (subway) by ourselves for the very first time. We were going to see a musical called “Starmania” (which, it turned out, has since become an immortal success here, only equaled by shows like “Les Misérables”). I was mesmerized by the whole show.

The music, the talent, everything was perfect in my eyes. In fact, those songs are still playing regularly on the radio and they still Evoque those magical feelings I felt then for the first time.

The night would have been even more perfect if the boy who came along with us had decided to at least hold my hand. Was he gay too? He never answered my letters. Wasn’t meant to be, I guess…

 (I knew a number of men, let’s say intimately, which turned out to be gay. At least THEY had a reason to break up with me…).

I thought I could become a singer, an actor or a writer considering my early experience with the whole thing.

But now, all I am is Nathalie, a mother, spouse, daughter, sister, friend, cousin, niece and whatever else.

And I am happy and glad of each and every one of these titles. No matter in what order you place them.

When I started writing, I only wanted to write a blog. I had a few undeveloped ideas and a very basis knowledge about the whole Social Network thing.

Then, I thought for a brief moment, that I could write a Musical.

Can you imagine?

Me who essentially has everything I need to be happy, and fundamentally, deep inside I know I am, despite all the pain and suffering.

Well, I eventually managed to write something totally different, mostly on my back which, to me, has infinitely more meaning that anything else I could have written.

I feel a sense of euphoria right now.

I am transferring onto my computer, everything I wrote on paper so far. I am currently at page 14. I stopped writing on paper, not fast enough to keep up with all these thoughts which need to come out.  

I can’t help but realize that my entire life will now revolve around the events of this faithful weekend.

My life is forever altered.

The life of other too, possibly, if I am not careful.

And yet, I am only human.

I still don’t know exactly why they chose me.

All I can do now is do my best to deserve the confidence they have put in me.

I tremble a bit more now but I am going better than ever. I am surrounded with a loving family which supports me and believes me.

I share with you the most intimate moment of my life, past, present and future. And in real time on top of it.

Before God and the archangels, I hereby pledge my full devotion to this mission.

I was then writing what I hoped would be my final phrase… (Before God all mighty and the archangels)

when at that very precise moment, once again, something remarkable just happened in front of my own eyes, in my suburban house in the province of Québec, this Tuesday, eleventh day of the month of June :

without me touching anything, the phrase I had just written turned into blue.

And no, it wasn’t a problem with the video cable, let me assure you, since only that one phrase, not the whole page, turned to blue. Moreover, it suddenly shrunk and got bigger repeatedly, in real time, right in front of my eyes!

I swear I was sober, not under the influence of any illicit drugs and fully awake when it happened!

In fact, my brother had a similar experience at his work only a couple of months ago! As it was his first experience with such a phenomenon, he freaked out a bit more than I now do. He immediately wrote to me in disbelief. I told him; I was just thinking of him at the time…  

(And those who know me can attest, when I swear, it is the whole truth).

I swear on my loving dad’s grave!

But this time, however, instead of freaking out a little when it happened, I started to laugh hysterically!

I’m sure that right there and then, my neighbours thought that I had finally lost it!

Then my son appeared, somehow worried to hear me lose it that way! Right then, everything stopped.

Being sick at the time, he didn’t really understand, so, once again, this unique moment was just between me and my angels, without witness or camera…

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: If this isn’t a sign’ I don’t know what is. I phoned, one after the other, each close member of my family and my close friends.

It is to them that I dedicate the fruit of my handwritten labour since it is my life which is told in this book.  

Does it make me an author now, despite the fact that I had let’s say a bit of help? Is that what we call “being inspired?” dammit. Does it work like that with everyone (except for the “angels” part?).   

Sorry for the “dammit”. I don’t want to use anymore bad words; I am sorry God but you know I am Québécoise and its sort of in our genes…

All I want, right now, is to go to bed… and sleep peacefully for once! And not to be awoken this time until I have another life story to share. Yet, before that…            

What I really want to do is…

Fornicate with my lover!

It is Friday after all!

Therefore:

Jean-Pierre, my love, my lover, my confident, my travel companion, my Dr. Doolittle, my friend and whatever else. I will never name it out loud your given name sweet as honey. You asked me not to when I started and I will never betray your trust…  

But my love,

Did I make another huge mistake? And the one who will pay for it is you?

Do I sign this book or not?

If I didn’t have so many scars in my head, my body and my soul, which only you know of and will ever know, I swear to you my love, before God Almighty and all the angels…

Then the phone rang. It was him! I have no merit here because my phone talk so I knew it was him.

When I picked up the phone I yelled: “I love you” as I was writing it, another sign I am sure…

All I told him was:

• “My love, I know you are extremely busy these days, but please promise me this, that you will remember what I will tell you that just happened at this instant but…”

Then, it happened. Something amazing. Something that can’t be but did…

Many friends on mine called me on my fuchsia phone to bear witness to what happened, which they all witnesses at some point with their own eyes…

Piwie, who had always been scared to enter my husband’s office, from where I was working, was nevertheless valiantly sitting next to me.

My son was in his room (maybe had he finally found the subject of his new story?).

Then, I once again, read what I had previously written, as to convince myself…

And then…

Finally, I have the actual proof I needed for people to believe me and furthermore, I have my personal lawyer next to me to notarize the lot (I know, he’s not a notary… give me a break people!).

It took forever it seems but I finally have a decent finale to my book.

Hooray!

Are you still there my loyal lawyer?

Will this end up becoming a legal binding document?

Not crazy the girl, insanely mad!

So tired now, must lay down! I literally fell on my son’s bed where my dog was sleeping. I must share this with him… He is the only one available with whom I can share this most important moment… After all, his bed has been the site of most of our mother to son debriefing meetings in the past so it was a fitting choice after all…

I must share this or I feel I will write about it all night long otherwise…

Suddenly, my friend Julie called me. We haven’t spoken since last Thursday so imagine how much I had to say to my old friend about…

She said:

• “You seem to be well connected these days. So, please could you intervene with him on my behalf? I know that the sign of the cross to you is his direct phone line but you seem to also have his mobile number as well…”.

  “I must find a new job before Friday. I start school on Monday and you know, with my current illness, I cannot work as much anymore, I can barely drag my own body these days.

  With my house and everything else, you know, I am still totally scared of using needles by myself so I have to go to the local clinic every Friday for them to inject me. When I had my own company, things were fine, but now, who would possibly want me in my current condition?”.

• “So please, my dear friend, talk to him about me, I implore you…”.

Which I did.

Two hours later, she called me to announce that 2 potential employers just contacted her.

She asked me if I really prayed for her.

She is my best friend so of course I did. I swear my dear friend, that I closed my eyes and asked the good Lord to answer your prayers…

Right there and then, I became once again a true believer.

For the second time today, I felt like I was really connected!

There and then, I understood, perhaps for the first time in my life, what a real prayer truly is. I realized it doesn’t to be overly complicated. You must, first and foremost, speak from the bottom of your heart, simply, then and only then does the good Lord takes you in his arm…

“Hey Julie, why don’t we go to the “Deux Pierrots” (famous pub in Old Montréal) like we used to?”?

(Can we still do it at our age?). Whatever, she was definitely the one I had to confide in at that time: I had to go out to the big city! It has been too long…

(Unfortunately, there had to be an aftermath to that great night. The following Friday, her mom had a stroke. God said ok for the job, but for a while, you will need to look after your mom. She is much better now. And Julie got her job right after…  

The end…

I have been uprooted from the north shore to the south after my marriage, having to constantly commute via the too few bridges which are, of course, always congested. And in the centre of it all, the big city we all have to share.

Yet, we can’t forget what is all around us…

Despite, or should I say, thanks to the multitude of roadblocks (lol),

my family and friends rarely get to come and visit us. Yet, since it was our decision to migrate to the south shore, we now make a special effort to go ant visit them on a regular basis, probably more often than we got to before most probably out of guilt…

• “You see mom, our life is boring.

  Who do you think will be interested in it?

I ask you: is it because we walk with a cane (choose a colour, any one. I have a great array of choices now…), that we are suddenly old? Then again, maybe I am already? At what age should we become old? Then, do we stay old, even if we get liposuction, facelift and plastic boobs? I wonder…

Curtain fall…

***

Ring ring!

It was my handsome Medium Vladimir who was now calling. I explained to him what just happened. It had happened to him too! In the very same way. He added, before hanging up, that if it got too much to bear at any time, to go and see him…

No reason to alarm the whole neighbourhood then,

Drama Queen!

When I went to bed that night, I prayed. I prayed for my brother who is going through a bit of a rough patch at the moment. After his divorce, due to settlement, he had to come back to Québec for a while to restart anew.

But in the process, he had to leave what he had the most precious to him: his two sons (including one afflicted with the Asperger Syndrome).

He was feeling hopeless and only longed to be back with them as quickly as possible, the minute he had enough money to go back to Australia.

Then it’s settled brother, you will be the one to help me with my mission. You’ve always been the bright one in the family. And, when I called you that night to ask for your help, you told you dreamt of angels coming to talk to you that very night. Clearly a sign from the Divine to me…

And what about my son’s role in all this.

You secretly whispered about his role. Please carry him in your comforting arm my Lord, he is too big now for me to do so

(he is more than 6 feet tall and rather plump, like many kids from his generation… Boosted with all the hormones they add in food these days for sure!

It was settled. I was set to go. You took care of all my worries; I don’t need anything else. But what about my son? My son to whom I now speak openly and sincerely about these things, and he gets it.

Before going to bed, though, I begged the big boss to enlighten in order to find a suitable ending to my story (I felt I still wasn’t quite there yet).

I want to make damn sure (sorry boss!) that I convey in the most accurate manner, your divine message and right now, I don’t know what to do or who to call. Please come and visit me in my dreams and show me the way…    

• 1:15am: I looked at the time. I am not trembling anymore by then. I lay back down on my soft pillow…

Then, suddenly, the phone rang. Not my fuchsia-coloured mobile but our boring landline (yes, I know, no one has those anymore. Thank you for pointing out how old I am…). It was HIM! My dearest uncle, the one we affectionately nicknamed “uncle magic” when we were young.

I recognized his familiar laugh. He told me:

“I have been married to the same wife for 35 years, a woman very similar to you. So, I attest that weird things just like the ones you just experienced, well, I witnessed a damn lot of it through the years”, he said laughingly.

(a few days later, we spoke again, using a real phone this time. The conversation was pretty much the same).

Then, I had another dream…

This one was straight forward, not cryptic, like most others. This time, I was simply told who to contact to help me…

Sweet!

Next, I dreamt about Dr. Piwie which we have been neglecting lately. She is my new private GP with her magic fur (because the medical system is in such shambles in Québec these days, more and more people unfortunately have to resort to private doctors).

Piwie’s personal trainer has been on sick leave for the past 1 ½ month. A whole bunch of our furry friends are awaiting your safe return on Monday my dear friend. Come see mommy Piwie, let me console you….

She is asleep now. Sweet dreams. BTW dog’s dream I found out…

Then, while I was writing this, the alarm rang!

Come on little girl, let’s go for a walk.

Today is a lovely spring day. Could it actually mean that summer is upon us?

(I am in pain that morning so I decided to smoke a joint right before my breakfast (7am).

And, once again, I am still wondering:

should I sign my real name?

Because the fact is, throughout my so far, I have undoubtedly left some (elephant) traces already. I was trying to convince myself at first, by noting the obvious: in my age group, Nathalie’s were everywhere, a bit like McDonald’s. And, what I wrote, well it IS my actual life of which I am not ashamed a bit. My concern is mostly not to affect anyone else. I must change all their names?

And like everyone else, I have made many mistakes over the years. Some small, some much bigger. And I most certainly will continue to do so in the future, invariably.

I am only human…

But I am not ashamed of my past actions, or the people I met and loved along the way, nor of their life choices in the past, as they accept me as I am.  

There was a time, a few years back however, where I had about no clue of what I was going to do with my life. I had one true love then, the love of acting and performing.

But I wasn’t sure I could manage the media circus that came with it. How so they cope with people often criticizing their work. And it’s even worse today with social medias where people who have nothing else to do, unleash their hatred in anonymity.

And yet, here I am, now, knee deep in it to serve a hire purpose.

When will I ever listen to my inner voice dammit?

Do I really have a choice?

So, for now, you will know me as madame B…

(this as far as my courage let me go right now).

Now, my husband was having a snooze. I suddenly hear him waking up. Then the door suddenly opened…

Miss Piwie came in with one of her many toys…

(and now, solely for that one reason, if you think I am crazy, well, you might be kind a right but then again, I have photographic proof I wasn’t…

Finally!

(The reason for Piwie’s extensive collection of toys is that, since I started to inject her every two weeks for her allergies, I’ve been giving her a new toy each time…).

Then, my lovely husband came to wish me good morning while telling me I was beautiful as he does every morning... Isn’t he sweet!   

(No makeup, hair not done, sure! I appreciate it greatly but, yeah sure! Sweet nevertheless…).

Then, he will ask me how was my night (in this case, he’ll have to read my answer), for now, I have a lot of work (finally!) waiting for me.

When I started typing my story, which I had originally hand written, I struggled to find a suitable finale to the story in order to put an end to my journey.

Now, I have to transfer the whole thing to my computer…

Well, with a tendinitis (which my specialist wanted to correct with a bit of surgery…). Well, no matter, I am on a roll. Don’t worry, I will wake my young man up soon so he can fix it himself. Who needs a doctor when you have your own personal healer…?  Hold and behold, he managed to fix it no problem and it has never come back since.

How about that!

Or should I hire an assistant to do the typing for me? Then again, I learnt the proper typing method long ago when I took a Secretarial Course. It’s finally paying off, I guess…

(Yep, another worthless course to add to my list. Then again, these days you can study on line instead which would have saved heaps of time. Who knows, maybe I would have a Bachelor’s Degree by now?).

Then, at the end of the degree, the teacher asked us about which type of work we were interested in. In my case, I explained shamelessly, that the main reason I took the class was to one day, write the story of my life… Why did they laugh?).

In those days, all we had was MS-DOS. Windows didn’t exist yet. We had to remember a whole bunch of (now virtually useless) codes. I never had to use it since as Windows came out just weeks after I had completed my course….

Well I managed to reach my goal eventually.

I had a fair bit of help but still…

There. I thought that this was a perfectly good conclusion (at least for this book…).

I guess I wasn’t there yet…

For my very first paid job, I worked for the first ever referendum on Québec’s sovereignty.

I was hired by the government to babysit kids so that their parents could go vote. At the local headquarters, I remember seeing a whole lot of phone lines coming from all directions. They eventually recruited me to call potential voters to encourage then to vote. The funny thing is that I wasn’t old enough to vote back then. I even participate in the tabulation of the votes later.    

(In retrospect, considering my total lack of talent in Math, maybe it was my fault the “YES” didn’t win?). Sorry mom and dad, forgive me…

***

Back home. I reflect on the fact that, in my own living room, there is a pot plant growing very nicely (and legally now…) which enables me to smoke my daily allowance of two joints… for medicinal purposes, which I have done religiously since I came back from hospital.

To make sure my son doesn’t worry about the medicinal plant being in our house, I have an envelope with a legal document which gives me the right to legally own one.

(I hope it will help me feel less bloated…).

Oh.

Reminds me that I must complete the plethora of legal document from HEALTH CANADA.

Later, my dream came back to me:

“Say Myriam? Are you really my friend? For the past twenty years, we shared a lot together. And you are also my cousin. Unfortunately, these days, we rarely meet outside of funeral parlours. But you are my ‘‘Facebookfriend’’ also. But are you my real friend?

Then I frenetically ran in my house while yelling here name like a crazy person…

Come on, think fast Nathalie!

This time girl, you will need actual proof!

Since Myriam is quite handy with the whole Social Media phenomenon, she could help me!

So, I wrote my formula…

So, right there on my “Facedababes” I write:

• “So, tell me Myriam, are you my friend?”

My dog was barking non-stop, I was telling myself that, at least if I use the Internet, everything will out there and in writing. People will hopefully believe our message, not just my family and friends… So, I wrote everything that came in my mind:

Marie-Pier vacuuming in the basement, my little devil dog trying to eat my dust wand, and upstairs, my son trying desperately to stop my other dog from barking.

Then the phone beeps, telling me I just received a new message.

Most probably from Myriam!

As I grabbed my mobile phone (yes, still the fuschia-coloured one!), I get a glance at my friend Élodie working hard, despite excruciating ankle pain. We must earn our money they say… Since her cancer, she has more expenses and therefore must work even harder and longer hours, despite the ever-present pain she must endure.

We haven’t spoken much lately but yet, right there on my “facedababes” she wrote:

• “You can always count on me; I am your friend!”.

Then, another beep. I drop the phone then try to pick up the line.

Oh no, now I need a CODE to hear the next message…

• “Who was it that recently told me that I had to put a security code on my phone? Yes, but I don’t use it to do any sort of transaction dammit! “Don’t listen to what they say about that on the radio mom!” my wise son suggested.

Too many videos on the Net these days without witnesses. I tremble. Help me someone, I am hopeless with the 3.0 shit! (3.0 LOL) But I must provide undeniable proof of what just happened…

I yelled: “Marie-Pier! Come quick!” (at least SHE is young and not a blonde, lol. She must be able to help me).

Here she comes. And she brought my son. Goody!

Then, of course, the bleepin’ phone had to ring again. Then beeped… A real comedy!

• “All mom wants to do my boy is listen to her message right now!”.

At that instant, he took me in his arms as to hold me back. Hold me back from what dammit? A mobile phone can’t bite you for goodness sake! The more he tried to hold me back, the more I started to panic.

• “Marie-Pier! Help me please! I must answer right away, it is important! I need proof you understand?

No one will ever believe me otherwise!”.  

• “The Net leaves traces! It will be easy; you will be my witnesses!”.

Now I yell:

“read Marie-Pier, read! Let me go “Bibi” (term of affection)! I implore you believe me, read what is written: before the angels, God, my son, Marie-Pier, Piwie, Myriam, Élodie, 3.0 I will have my proof!”.

He was now holding me even tighter.

• “I read madame B but I don’t know what to do?”.

• “Call the police Marie-Pier…”.

• “But there is nothing written on that page mom!”.

Still I keep trying:

• “God give him a sign!”.

Then “smack!”

in my face by my own boy!

I must admit I sort of deserved it.

He had never seen his mom over-dramatize like this before.

And now for the standing ovation:

Grab your tissues, my Oscar and whatever else…

At that moment, he embraced me and left the room with the others. Marie-Pier who desperately wanted to stay out of this family feud. After all, it did concern here… Furthermore, she is in pain too (she confided in me once, that she too had to resort to using “crazy herbs” to minimize the pain. Coming back, she was afraid to open the door as she imagined me lying on the floor, half dead by now)…

(After the whole ordeal, she admitted being very relieved all was now back to normal and later confided that she had lived similar experiences in the past, with her alcoholic barmaid mother. That same night, her husband found her sleeping in her bath. She had drunk an entire bottle of wine along with a few joints.

She could have easily drowned that night, largely because of me. Sobering experience…

Now that my son had returned to his basement lair, I could finally retrieve my messages…

Well bloody Videotron crap (mobile phone service provider). It didn’t work when came the time to retrieve my messages from my mobile message bank.

I’ll call Pierre-Karl (Company’s CEO)? Nothing is working anymore on my Fuchsia phone!  I start shaking once more.

I can’t find my glasses either… (over 40yo you don’t see as well as before ladies!).

I now jump on my computer. My gosh! I don’t even know how to get onto the Internet anymore! I feel really dumb right now…

I am alone in the office.

Dammit Nathalie, concentrate!

You will get there don’t worry. It is totally normal to be troubled. You’ve just been slapped in the face by the person who cherish more than anyone in the whole wide world, the one you rocked lovingly on your lap for so long. Not once did you lay hand on him ever, other than to give him tons of kisses and cuddles.  

I am literally paralyzed at that moment.

All I managed to do is save my file.

At least I can still do that…

From a distance, I can hear my son on the phone with the police; I must act quickly.

No doubt I will once again be sent right back to the loonie bin.

Look at the bright side Nat, at least where you’re going there won’t be any computers… And with the panoply of injections they will give you to calm down, not only will you sleep soundly for the first time in ages but you’ll have no one around to wake you up in the middle of the night!

I will finally SLEEP! Glorious sleep! My dream!  

But for now, my main concern is to find a way to save my file in a hurry. Why didn’t I listen to my son and skipped the damn code? Well, after I don’t know how many attempts, I finally managed to retrieve the code for my damn fuchsia mobile.

Then, I managed to write on my FB page with trembling hands:

“Pleas e ho w can I attac h a fil e?

Then the cops arrived. I heard them come in the house.

I invited them to enter the office, as if I was inviting them to a cocktail in the lounge room.

Now for my grandiose performance…

• “As you can clearly see, I am not armed, all I have is this fuschia-coloured morning coat. Before you take me away, let me put on my black dressing gown with assorted sandals”. “My name is Nathalie. Now I would like to know yours!”. “Do you have kids? Are you a believer?”. Then I about everything that happened to me in the last seven days, and of course, the little incident with my son, which was triggered after I had smoked a second joint just minutes before”.  

I was definitely killing it! I could have been a magnificent sales rep I thought because one of the police officers, a woman, requested that I brought her an autographed copy of my book as soon as it gets published.

“Girl, you shut your damn mouth!

Then I added:

• “AM I in trouble right now officers?”.

After, I called my love at work, it took me a few trials, I was still quite shaken so I was forgetting his extension number, even though I call him every day. He was quite angry at my son, I gathered.

• “I know you have a class to teach tonight (my overachiever is not only a full-time lawyer but he also teaches a few university classes for two different universities on top of it…)

  so don’t come to the visit me at the hospital tonight.

  All I want is to have a good night sleep to quickly get back onto my feet.

  Do not worry, I have nothing anyways, only a bit of a bad buzz, please don’t worry my love”.

  I will try to call you just before your class, if you let me have your mobile phone”.

Finally, before leaving, the police officers kindly helped me send the document to my husband by email. I however omitted the details of that last incident. He wouldn’t have understood anyways. But I will.

All I kept was the one phrase I wrote just after I woke up. It will be safe with me in the ambulance which is taking me to my medical appointment (I forgot to write it in my agenda though). But my son was quite helpful. He is the one who made sure to contact you guys.

The number which I should have called myself: 911. (000 in Australia btw…)

In the ambulance, I was still thinking of calling my cousin Myriam. I abandoned the idea since I didn’t have my reading glasses. And to be honest, I was completely drained from my day…

Luckily, the paramedical lady with me at the back, kindly offered to be my saviour and grabbed my phone on which she wrote everything I was dictating.

 Feedback from my cousin: she thinks I am actually a pirate because of all the typos I made when I asked about “how to join a file”. Apparently, I’m usually pretty good? I guess I finally got better at spelling. I’ll be darned,

you CAN teach an old dog new tricks!

Come on Myriam, it’s me! Remember the pink dress you wore when we went out? And the table that moved? Call me please! Here is my number…

• Nothing. PIRATE I TELL YOU…

False alarm. You must press 1 first! I suddenly realized, that, despite the fact that she was a few years younger than me, she was still from my generation. On top of it, she was blonde… Oh dear!

• First, she called her family, before me? What?

I just can’t!

I can just see myself tell my mother:

• “Hi mom? Your grand-son think that I am crazy, he is about to send me to a psychiatric hospital!” …

And it’s Thursday, which means my sister Claudie is at work, and so is my brother. And since his girlfriend works nights, well it’s not the best time to call either.

Finally!

• Hi Julie! I’m in deep doo doo this time!

  Guess what?

  I’m calling you live from the hospital where they are taking me to the psychiatric ward old friend! Could you please swing by my place and pick up my notebook?

  Here is my husband’s mobile number.

hen, while she was looking for my son’s number, she came across his “Faceofworriedsonbook” page where he was confiding with his friends about the incident and also thanked my friends for their help in encouraging me to pursue my writing process…

(Don’t worry big boy, in mom’s case, it’s always on big stream at a time, then the champagne cork explodes!).

As for the rest, you heard the end of my poem…

You are my link here below.

All you have to do is extend your arms,

And softly whisper my name…

And gently, I will go back to my old self.

Maman Taly

In your case, you confused the EXTEND part of it. Don’t worry, I forgive you.

As I say often:

Is it that important? Is it worth having a fight over?

Of course not!

Back at the hospital, when they checked my vital signs, I was stunned to hear my given name and last name blasting over the P.A. system. Then, while turning a corner (imagine the odds of being in a hospital where one of the doctor’s has the same name as yours...) I hear my name again as to welcome me back (false alarm, a patient being visited by family members also share my name).

Awkward!

Then, a rather attractive young men, all dressed in a blue uniform, handed me an hospital gown of the same colour to wear after my first consultation with a Medical Emergency Physician.

Even better, the ‘‘young’’ Adonis was also assigned to keep me company (i.e. keep an eye on me). My luck, the stud can also sing, having been a singer, performing in pubs and similar venues (maybe he performed once at the DEUX PIERROTS on one of the nights I was there?).

Then again, there is such talent here in Québec, and most are unknown. However, thanks to the proliferation of new local TV talent shows like the Voice, we can now enjoy many of those new talents.  

Good thing I had him watch over me then because, on a few occasions, I found myself having a number of negative thoughts… (The dark side of the force?).

Thankfully then, when it happened, my singing troubadour was more than please to distract me by singing a song I requested each the time.

I then enquired: “do you write your own songs? Yes? Goody!”. I then told him I had recently started writing a Musical. Maybe then?

Lol

Later, while he was escorting me on a wheel chair through the labyrinth of corridors, he told me that he had requested a meal for me, despite the fact that official lunch time and already come and gone.

• “I hope there will be mashed potatoes!” I added.

• “What, you like those?”.

• “Sure. I’m on a new mashed potatoes diet at the moment!”. Only I got the point…

Well, potatoes I wanted, potatoes I got. With some sort of undescribed pile which I assumed was meant to be meat. As for its origin, I used my own imagination. Anyways, it was smothered in gravy which hides the taste any ways., even though in this case, it had solidified into a gelatinous form. I was all set!

That week, I eventually met with not just one but two reputable psychiatrists to whom I recounted the story of my life, then the arrival of the angels and the rest.

Their conclusion:

• “you are not crazy Madame B. you have your own convictions, your beliefs regarding your faith. That it all”.

• “Could you do me a big favour and put your official professional diagnosis on paper please?”

  (so, I can prove that, at the time I wrote this “message from the angels”, I wasn’t crazy, just divinely inspired?).

(Otherwise this would become a fictional tale…).

They however couldn’t determine with certainty what triggered this episode (marijuana? Conflicting medication?) but they pointed to a possible reaction to one or more of the variety of medications I was treated with and prescribed during my previous hospital visit in February, which were slowly weaned out over the following weeks (but they remained in my medical record).

However, Since the number of pills I already have to take daily is quite extensive, I might now have removed all of them totally somehow). And the dosage I was given at the hospital was stronger so it probably resulted in a more rapid weaning period?

 I was stunned. What else while we’re at it? And the place of cannabis in all this? OK doc, I will take the pill you are giving me. Thank you.

• “Yes, and these words which pop up in your head will cease to be. Give it some time, you will see

(well it didn’t).  

Then, just after the nurse injected me with it, I started to cry. Maybe was I afraid to see my imagination and my riming skills fly away?

In my room now, located in the rather small Emergency ward. As there are a few patients in the same room, where beds are only separated by a thin cotton curtains, I must say I was quite entertained by the various consultations and conversations happening around me. It made me view my own illness in a more accurate perspective.

One consultation went like this:

• “Do you own a firearm at home?” the doctor asked the elderly patient next to me.

• “Of course!”, said the man, unequivocally. I have a cherry tree…

Priceless!

6:25pm: Doh! I didn’t see the time go by. I forgot to call my son’s favourite teacher. He probably choked him by now. I certainly didn’t want that to happen.

He wasn’t angry with him at all, he claimed.

While I was rapidly finishing the conversation with the teacher, in the corridor near the Emergency Unit, I saw a scene worthy of any Emergency Drama series unfold before my own eyes:

A group of what appeared to be students

(I was on the phone; I couldn’t ask each one for their I.D. to confirm so take my word for it…) following a man on a stretcher being assessed by a man in blue. He was giving what seemed to be a heart massage while a machine connected to the patient was beeping just like in a real scene from a fictional TV drama. It was definitely surreal!

Come on Lord, don’t tell me I will be a (unwillingly!) witness to a LIVE DEATH?

Hell no, please no. I tune out right there, I decided (like I was shown during one of my hospital visits when you encounter an event you don’t want to be part in).

(I was also shown another technique which requires that I surround myself with a protective light barrier around me (I can even select the colour. I chose blue this time to keep with the colour theme. Cool hey?).

It can even work while you’re in your car !

That protective dome originates directly from the heavens and slowly envelop every part of your body, one by one, then anchors itself to the earth core, nothing less.  

[Apparently a technique which has great success with kids who have difficulty to fall asleep...].

Then, I called my son. We spoke respectfully, from child to mother, from man to woman, then thru our child’s heart. When I hung up, my decision was made.

I promised him I would completely stop my consumption of marijuana. I couldn’t swear I would, I warned him, but I will try with all my heart because I painfully hear what you ask of me and I will do my very best.

I was already looking forward to the next day (they had already given me my discharged paper), so I could give a huge cuddle to my dear boy. All I had to do was sleep one more night… What could possibly go wrong?

THEN, NIGHT FELL.

At one point, while the police officers assigned to protect the young individual who made a spectacular entrance earlier (now in a room not too far from mine) were patrolling the area, I recalled one of my very first mistakes I made as a parent: failing to have him confirmed as part of his Christian upbringing.

That year, we moved to a new place and his paternal grand-mother who religiously frequented her local church became very ill so we were never told about the fact that he had to go through that process that year.

(In our time, it was all part of the school’s curriculum as they were all linked to an assigned catholic church. Now, with the separation of state and church, the process is no more liked with the child’s education process).  

While I was reflecting on that exact subject, the policemen which were now discussing between themselves just outside my room, mentioned, one after the other, the following:

• “It definitely must be a SIGN!”.   

Then, one by one, they repeated it, 3 time over.

Right after, I repeatedly heard my name NATHALIE over the PA system, however this time, there was a selection of last names provided...  

Then, while in the corridor, I noticed that the man in question was somehow wearing a mask. He looked really hurt and I was now fearing for his life. Suddenly, he started to scream and wouldn’t stop. The other patients around me were begging for ear plug in order to attempt to sleep.  

• “We ran out of them!” Said a nurse to my neighbour. Great!

Then, they decided to move him to a small but private room which just happened to be located much closer to mine. Unfortunately, they had to keep the door slightly open which, because of the reverberation meant that I could hear him even more clearly now.

All I needed now!

I must mention, however, the lovely gesture of a nurse’s aide who took the time to come see me. I was very patient, she claimed (well, I probably killed him many times over in my mind but hey I’m a former actress so I can pretend not to). She added, as if it wasn’t already obvious to everyone around, that the individual appeared to be under the influence of an illegal (and rather potent) drug.   

• “My God, poor him! How sad. (did he too decided to take the wrong turn to the left?).

Therefore, despite my initial plan to sleep a calm and invigorating night, I ended up not being able to sleep at all that night…

The next morning, I asked for a pen. Then I wrote, on the back of my breakfast menu (fancy hey?):

“Good morning young man. Last night, thanks to the thinness of the hospital’s walls, I couldn’t help but ear your name dear Dominique. I couldn’t sleep all night Dominique, because your suffering was such that it made my head spin (probably a good thing as I was probably the only patient on the ward who didn’t feel like shocking you last night… lol).

Each time you were screaming, my mother’s heart was bleeding for you. Each time your monitoring machine was beeping, I was worried it would be for the last time.

All I could do was pray for you and thank the good Lord you were under the watchful care of people in white shoes who sympathize for you. When your distress calls thankfully ceased at sunrise and you finally looked right at the nurse’s eyes when she spoke to you that day,

I felt like writing these words for you.:

Dear Sir, thank you. You probably saved my life. Likewise, my son’s life, and his stepdad’s were perhaps positively transformed too thanks to your ordeal.

Now, You too must make a conscious decision to clean up your act young man, despite all the bad experiences you had in your past, think of this night as a gift from God. A chance to start afresh…

There is still time!

• “The police officers who are watching him won’t let you give it to him”, said the nurse.

For once, I left the hospital light hardheartedly towards my new life. I was finally going back to who I once was.

That day, I left the hospital with a light heart towards my new life. I finally became my old self but this time, I always have, permanently burned in my memory, the heart felt cry from Dominique, which transformed, over time, in a hymn to joy.   

When I got home, I finally got my cuddle! We spoke for quite a while. Then, he suddenly told me:

• Mom, your plant has disappeared somehow!

  And I didn’t do it, neither did god father!

Come on young man, it cannot just disappear all of a sudden! It certainly isn’t the angels? You can’t really make a plant disappear like this… Especially that one which was quite heavy by now…

To be sure, I checked all around my garden in case: nothing!

Well, you succeeded my dear ol’ chum (name Julie often call me). You are doing great. One day at a time as you should.

That Thursday, my pusher didn’t get a chance to roll me many joints somehow, he only brought two of them for that day, but he failed to find a plastic container to bring them in so he improvised and brought them in a pill container!

(With his name written on it, imagine if the cops found them!).

I have one left, which I kept as a reminder of where I have been. No way I will ever light that one up without risking another hospital stay…

Then I turned on my notebook. After a long pause, appeared the last phrase I wrote which I failed to erase…

But now, I finally get it.

I then realized that, up to that point in my life, I had somehow been blind to each one of God’s lifeline until now. From now on, I will seek for these lifelines scared along my route…

It is now useless for me to write any of this down.

I will remember every detail now. It is My life after all!

I can’t just forget it all of a sudden. Anyways, I also decided to assume my family name from now on…  (After reading it once again, I am again ambivalent about it…).

I realize now that I will never have enough saliva to appeal to everyone on the planet (and pills dry up your mouth anyway…).

Then again, my mission, they pointed out recently, is not to convince anyone contrarily to what I assumed and dreaded.  

All I have to do is to make available to all my life story and more importantly the crucial message they want me to disseminate throughout the World…    

Will believe me who ever decides to. For now, I am living my life the best that I can and that is it.

Anyways, the pharmacy will soon deliver my “pillstomakeyouforgetyourideas” soon. I only need to take it tomorrow and all will be fine…

The next day however, my pot plant was still nowhere to be seen…

“it can’t be that easy to move it”. Did I reflect.

I searched everywhere!

Ultimately, I chose not to take one of those “idea erasing” pills, I will go on writing as long as I can but before…

I will try to sleep a bit… Finally!

Then, when I woke up from my snooze, at around 4pm, I had the sudden urge to put on makeup somehow (my makeup kit is in the basement and somehow, I felt too bad to go all the way down there).

My make up room is located in the basement. Until now, I had been too ill to use it. Me, who has, since I was old enough to ransack my mom’s makeup bag, been putting on makeup, and rather well, may I add since I have also taken make up classes (another futile skill to add to my list…).

But at that moment, it had been weeks since I last put on some mascara, which, for a red head is almost unthinkable! You look like you barely have eyes otherwise! Come on, think about yourself for once! Better, surprise your boyfriend who will barely recognize you after all this time without!  

After I finally summed up the courage to do it, I immortalized that moment by taking a selfie which I swiftly uploaded onto my “Facedenewstart” page.

Damn! Now I realize there is nothing left to eat in the fridge.

Nothing left to eat, good, it will give me the needed incentive to get up and go. Since my last surgeries, shopping has been my only physical activity.

When I couldn’t, thanks to today’s technology, I still managed to order my groceries via the internet or even by phone but today, I wanted, heck, I needed to go out the house and do my own shopping.

I feel good enough to try!

First stop, Loblaws (company executives, give me a call when this book finally gets published, wink, wink!).  Dam@$%! My winged helpers didn’t do their job:

I don’t have my usual parking spot!

I had to park at the very back of the car park! It can’t be, I won’t make it damn!

Then I remembered: my husband the family banker took away my credit card (to my request but still…) and stored it in his side table in our bedroom). So, forget the shopping expedition for now and let’s head back home.

That has to be the reason I could not find any parking:

I wasn’t meant to be there at that time, I reflected. Back at home, I headed directly to the side table to retrieve my card, which was, funny enough, covered by a picture of my dad!

We once more make our way back to the same supermarket:

My usual parking spot next to the door awaits me.

Good job winged helper!

(Damn! I just realized I gave out my parking secret! Now everyone’s guardian angel will scout for parking spots at the same time!). No worries, I am very confident that mine is the very best of them all!). He has been wholeheartedly devoted to me my whole life…

Well look at that, while I was away sick, I just noticed that they not only completely renovated the whole store but changed banner in the process! (forget about calling me Loblaws people, please give me a shout mister Provigo sir!).

Oh look at that, there I was worried about who will cook my meals. Well, they are introducing a new local company is now offering a whole new selection of “ready to eat” meals. Shivers, I forgot to bring my glasses to read the ingredients… (later that week, my weekly magazine published a review of their products: too much salt, average quality but quite tasty!).

The government should work on simplifying labels, use symbols maybe?

I took one of each in order to try them: pulled beef parmentier (with mashed potatoes) look especially inviting! Yet, after the packet warmed up slightly in my hands, I opted to put it back.

From now on, no more mashed potatoes regimen I decided… LOL (3.0 LOL)

“I’ve been away for quite a while!”, I just noticed, as I gazed at a box of my son’s favourite snack cakes which had changed colour all of a sudden… I’m not sure I’ll be able to make him adapt to such a sudden change…

Shopping done, all bags in the car, time to empty the bladder before the journey home (always a wise decision to do so since traffic and construction site can extend its duration by quite a lot…).

Quickly I make my way to the disabled toilet conveniently located right next to the exit.

Dammit, it’s occupied! My pea-sized bladder is struggling…

Oh wait, the door is opening. A trembling cane appeared, then an elderly man struggling to hold on to the door peered out. I held the door open to ease his struggle:

• “good morning mister! How are you doing? I uttered”.  

• “Not really!” he replied.

(I often reflect that I would be the ideal candidate to work on the Weather Channel with all my physical impediments as I can always feel it in my bones, literally, when bad weather is on the way…).

• “They might forecast sunny days ahead but at my age, I am constantly in pain. All I wish now is for it to stop.

  I am convinced that there must be something else after we crossover. It has to…”.

• “That my good man, I can assure you there is!”.

Then, I made my way to the next stop on my list: my local IGA supermarket for the other weekly specials. Not so local after all it turned out… Funny really, as I learnt from my brother just this week that they have IGA’s in Australia as well and they have an identical logo. I would have sworn it was a local company…

Doh!

When I got to the vegetables section, I saw some Fiddle head ferns, freshly picked from our local growers. It reminded me of the very first time I experienced my first major back pain, was when I was working as a carer for the elderly. That faithful day, I was looking after a lovely old lady suffering from multiple sclerosis and hurt my back permanently in the process

(since then, I learnt that my own Julie and Myriam are also afflicted by this terrible illness).  

In retrospect, I found that I had not been trained properly, if at all, to adequately perform that job. Each year, many young people in Québec hurt themselves because of a lack of proper training, I’ve been told).

That day, a lovely warm day of spring, I had to prepare her lunch meal. We had bought some of those ferns. I obviously didn’t really know to prepare them as they turned out to be very bitter and unpalatable.

Yuck!

Finally, as I approached the milk display, I recalled that this was my cue to go and relieve myself in that store: the disabled toilet on ground floor. How could I forget? Will I meet another old man to console?

Don’t ask me how, but I ended up with some Kraft dinner on my list somehow! Since when do I eat that kind of rubbish? My son maybe? Couldn’t be my choosy husband for sure… And yet?

• “Is that what you ate the whole time I was in the hospital?”.

Then I suddenly remembered the many empty pizza boxes I saw in the recycling bin… Ah you little!

The next morning, at 8:30am, I turned on my radio to 98.5 FM (I didn’t even bother to go empty my blather beforehand…):

• “A pedophile has been arrested at Plaza Del Carmen earlier today…”.

Damn! That brought back some painful memories. We rarely if ever hear about that type of crime. The worse thing was that this one happened where I once was a victim of such a predator…

(Even when we remove the nails, it invariably leaves holes in the wood planks, the same one’s coffins are made off…).

At that moment, I decided to take a break from writing for the entire weekend… 

Marie-France, I invite you to dinner!

... What do you want to eat? From hot dogs, we graduated to chicken. Since I had spent several days in the hospital, my budget gave us more options than normal…

I had a lot of things to tell her and I wanted to do it in person instead of over the phone

•  “How many in your party today?”

(Wait, we have a full busload of people still to meet us, I thought…).

• “well, with my two angels and the big boss who are connected to me at all times, I guess it adds up to five” did I whisper when she left, laughingly.

• “Well, in my case, I always a busload following me at all times” said my friend laughing!

• “I guess we will need a large table after all!” we totally lost it.

That night, we ate well, laughed a lot, especially when I told her I had paid with a cheque from my pusher!

Marie-France just couldn’t stop laughing! Then, we signed me to look at the people sitting next to us…

Two well-dressed men carrying weapons! Part of the police force we hoped…

Clic,

I took a picture

• (take the lower part, not the top, she whispered!).

Before leaving, I made sure to say farewell to my new friends. Didn’t get a response…

• “They are grumpy like our waitress today”, my friend added. “Usually, she is very pleasant, must have had a bad day!”.

• “It’s not an easy job!”, I added. “Both my sister and my mom did that job for many years”.

Then I remembered that I too, tried working in that field but it wasn’t really my calling:

I remember one day, my high heel got caught in the floor grill and I nearly dropped a whole coffee on a client’s head…

As for my mom, her for foray into the restaurant industry started very abruptly: on her 13th birthday, her mom pretty much ordered her to go find a job very sunset, in order to financially help her parents pay for the family’s expenses (family which included 13 kids) and to help pay for her brother’s school fees

(yes you read right. This way happening in Québec just a few decades ago…).

Furthermore, her mom had to ask the government for a special derogation which would enable my mom to legally work full time at that age.

She even stuffed my mom’s bra to increase her chances of finding a job by day fall even though she was already very attractive…

And when she came back home at night, all tired, she had to give her entire pay to my grandmother… until the day she got married! Well she did find a job. For a small restaurant in Old Montreal which was connected to a pharmacy owned by a man who now owns a whole chain of pharmacies around Québec.  

Even more astonishing, months later, she very nearly got involved against her will, into a sex trafficking rink. Luckily for her, her boss decided she was too popular with his male clientele and kept her for himself… Luckily.

She also later found out, that the very generous regular customer she served every week, was a Montréal mafia boss when she saw his picture on the front of the daily newspaper!

The same man who, several months before, hired all her restaurant’s staff to cater for a private function at his gated mansion at the end of a long private road where she met a number of her regular clients, all accompanied by gorgeous, well dressed ladies, and a few faces she recognized from TV or the papers, she wasn’t certain…

As I returned home, I fell ill: my costochondritis had returned!

“Get into your jammies mom and rest for a while!” said my son, all worried.

But what will you remember from mt life story?

THE FIVE WORDS, I HOPE…

That week, I spent the rest of the week in bed. My previously prepared meals will end up being rather useful after all.

---

Today is Father’s Day:

I will eat alone with my mother-in-law. She was feeling rather good that day. My husband was at work. She felt like eating a smoke meat sandwich, as you do, but unfortunately, her favourite restaurant, the one with an unobstructed view of Mount St. Hilaire, was full.

So, we settled for the restaurant next door. Then I told her the whole story. She believed me. The only itch is, will she remember it next time we meet again?

Our waiter was named Adam. I ordered a “Québécoise” pizza (pepperoni, Canadian bacon and mushrooms) with a Québec-made St. Justin mineral water from right here (why do local manufacturer’s struggle to get their products available on our supermarket shelves?

My brother, who worked as a long-life manager in a supermarket years ago, says that it is a matter of big money. Large multinationals pay big money to buy premium shelf space leaving very little, if anything to small local producers who cannot afford those “hidden” fees…).

It was pouring down when we came out (I will listen to my inner voice next time – i.e. my guardian angels). It warned me to take my umbrella when I left the car earlier…

I had to go pick it up in the car. Then I reflected that the restaurant did have special access for disabled customers contrarily to what I thought earlier…

***

Today… I am aching everywhere as if I got beaten to a pulp. I also have bruises all over my arms…

• “Could that be because of the hospital bed’s side rail perhaps?”.

Can’t be because I also have them on my belly…  

• “You’ve been abducted by aliens then, mom!

  You would be the very first person to which such a thing would have happened to… then you would the talk of the town for sure!” did he say laughing hysterically.

 “Today, I finally found my long-lost mom!” joyfully blurred out my son. After that day, we resumed our “traveling meeting” tradition in the car, which we now affectionately call the office…     

Then, one morning, I went on “Facededog” and saw a short video of puppies including one with big eyes and a flat face wearing a curly haired wig.

I reflected that my next dog will be just like this one…

In the afternoon, my son had an appointment with his chiropractor. So involved in our conversation, I missed the exit on the highway. We therefore ended up cancelling the appointment (calm down millennial, that was way before the arrival of the GPS and Google Map…).  

Further down the road, once again I miss the exit so ended up stuck in a traffic jam (dammit!). Never mind the setback, we were still very much absorbed by our rather interesting conversation… Oops! Here’s a shortcut! (at least I hope it is? Ended up being way longer. Doh!).

We eventually made it home at some point.

Inside the car, we decided to resume our conversation as if we were in our own private “members only” lounge…

Then, our private dog sitter Carmen arrived in our driveway with her van filled with dogs, after a lengthy walk in the woods with our Piwie.

While I was chatting with My son took that opportunity to play with the dogs in the van. He immediately fell in love with one of them. She was patiently sitting in the passenger seat. Mainly black with a few white spots, she managed to make my son know that she would love for him to pick her up while he waited… Coincidentally,

Carmen told us that Piwie spent the entire day playing with her! A man brought her to Carmen, hoping that she could find a good loving home for her (she is rather good at matching dogs with humans that are well suited to her personality. She is now in high demand… a canine matchmaker if you will).

The poor girl has recently been suffering from repetitive ear infections and may therefore need surgery and on top of that, the kids in her current family have grown disinterested with her and… blablabla…

She is adorable! A pure-bred Boston terrier.

She looks just like her picture on her “Facedadoggie” web site (but without the wig!). I immediately elected to call my generous, kind, animal enthusiast husband (thanks to my rather useful pink mobile).   

Since that faithful day, she is an integral part of our little family. Her name was Vanilla. Piwie is the one who is white. We must find another name better suited for her. We found out she loved eating vegetables! Scraps from the veggie hating kids from her previous family at dinner time most probably.

Therefore, I named her “Germaine” (like the vegetarian frog on a kid’s tv show popular at the moment). Needless to say, it wasn’t

Later, the love of my life suggested the name “Dandine” (Waddles) which fits her rather well because she doesn’t really have a tail so when she is happy, her whole backside waddles!

***

Thursday, July 4th. I’m back home after visiting my mom across two bridges…

I’m still shaken. Not in a negative way. But not in a negative way. I rather became conscious of the fact that I just lived a wonderful and unique experience very few get to live…

After having lunch with my sister and my mom, we agreed that my son would perform a leg treatment for my mom who was suffering of severe leg pain lately.

From the very first moment he started manipulating her legs, my mom started screaming in pain. She had been suffering for so long…    

While my son was massaging the areas where she experienced the most pain, I was standing on the other side of her bed praying for her recovery (I didn’t really mean to, it just happened naturally). It was the very first time I assisted my son.

• Then I uttered an impromptu prayer such as “My Lord, bless this house and all its occupants, (a bit random since we we’re at my sister’s house) and guide my son’s fingers so they can properly heal this person…” or something to that effect.

My poor mom was in a lot of pain for the whole duration of the treatment, which, for a helpless daughter, is hard to contemplate.

He made her perform a variety of movements (each time I repeated the command in her hear since she is now somewhat hard of hearing).

But I had to admit that, as the treatment progressed, it looked less and less painful as he “kneaded” her restlessly.

Then, without warning, my son who was now quite agitated, requested some paper and a pen immediately.

• “Mom, get me some paper to write on now please! Where is it”.

• “In the office, I’ll go get it”.

• “Quick mom!”.

Then my son grabbed by my dress and started speaking but the voice that came out of him wasn’t his… It was a voice I immediately recognized however;

a voice I had not heard since my dad passed-away years ago.

“Listen dearest daughter, I know you are trying to help but let me

(or let him, I don’t really remember as I was totally flabbergasted at that point)

work on your mom I implore you”.

That was my cue to leave the room with my pen and paper and move to my sister’s kitchen to converse via my magic pen with my loving daddy.

It was my dad “calling” from the other side. I sure hope it’s not a collect call…

-        “My mom is here” he uttered, as he always does in introduction and saluted each one of us one by one, adding two “amen” in terms of conclusion.

As I was writing to my dad, I could still hear my poor mom’s laments. My sister was just next door doing some clothes washing. When she walked by, I read my dad’s loving text to her.

Then suddenly, the screaming stopped. Hesitantly, I entered the bedroom where I saw my little shaman. His face was as white as snow. He was now totally exhausted like I never saw him before!

I instinctively embraced him and hugged him tenderly. He then whispered in my right hear…  

-       “Maman, when I was treating her, I could see in my head the things which were not functioning properly with mamie as if I had x-ray cameras at the tip of my fingers!”.

-         “All she needs is another treatment and the pain will be gone but to be sure, she should get a scan so I can confirm what I saw in my head. I saw some kind of lump protruding from her bone and it worries me”, he added.

-        “I will mention it to her as soon as we get home”.

My sister Annie was patiently waiting for her turn… She has had several migraines lately and now a headache which regularly appears after each meal. Here’s your chance sis, he’s all yours!

Just a few minutes and voilà! Good as new.  

-         “All right, well it’s now time to say goodbye everyone! We have a long way to go!”.

We quickly left as I could see that my little baby was very tired. I’ll let him have a rest and later, I will have a few questions to ask him!

On the way home, he swore he could not remember asking for pen and paper, nor did he have any recollection of whispering that secret into my ear. As far as he could remember, all he did was crack a couple of bones, that’s it.

He said we made a great team: me as a scribe, him performing his miraculous massages.

When we finally got home, the phone was ringing. It was my mom. I told her that she should have a body scan done as soon as possible. She said she had one done recently and to her amazement, she confirmed that what they found was exactly what he described: she had a hernia protruding from her bone which is pressing against her sciatic nerve.

I learned a lot from my son and my friends. For instance, my friend Sophie showed me how to make a wish each time the numbers from a clock are all the same (i.e. 1:11pm etc.). It apparently is a sign that the angels are around. That made me realize how often they must have around since I have long noticed that this occurrence does happen quite regularly for me, especially when I am conversing with them (my brother also noticed that same phenomenon virtually each time he is waiting for me to send him pictures of every page of my weekly conversations with “the other side”.  

From my friend Julie, I learnt that very young kids could remember about their previous lives. All you had to do was query them about it. Once, she did it with her Nephew François who, after a few attempts, told her:

-        “Auntie, I can somehow remember seeing drawings on the walls just like in Asterix and Cleopatra (hieroglyphs)!

My brother recently told me he also tried with his oldest son who remembered playing with electricity and inventing stuff… (the angels later told us he had been Nicola Tesla in a previous incarnation!).

I never tried with my son though. I always suspected that he was an old soul so I decided I didn’t really want to touch that…

However, on several occasion in the past, he claimed that he must have been a knight or an explorer.

As for my friend Marie-France, she showed me how to thank God and the archangels daily for all the things they provide to us on a regular basis. Thank you for everything my protectors!  

I used to thank them but without real conviction until recently…

When they shared 5 simple words with me… Then I started to sincerely and profoundly thank them from the bottom of my heart.

 (I am not really good with number as I said previously because in actuality, they wrote 7 words in total:

“THERE IS US AFTER THIS” and “thanks Nathalie”.

Therefore, thanks to Word’s word counting capabilities I discovered that out of 63 704 (and counting…), there were only 7 of them that I did not physically write myself. 

***

 Then one day, my dad ended up dying unexpectedly… Well sort of, because he had been diagnosed with cancer a while ago but he still was fairly autonomous. Then, suddenly, an accidental fall at the local supermarket (which really didn’t appear to be that bad) and bang, the next day he died in his sleep! Ironically, my brother now works in security for a large shopping Centre where a good proportion of the customers are over 60. Let me tell you he is very protective of them (sometimes a bit too much – he told me, for instance, that he gave his personal mobile number to an elderly lady who regularly shop there when he saw her struggle (with her two forearm crotches) to get to a shopping trolley which she uses as a walking aid. Since then, every time she gets on site, she calls him and subito presto, he brings a trolley directly to her car…

Then came his funeral…  

Because I was the one with all the acting and the least shy, I was chosen as the one to make the mandatory speech to the family and guests who came to their respect to our dad. The room was completely full.

For the occasion, I prepared a card for the occasion in case I forgot what I had to say. I certainly didn’t want to start improvising on that most solemn day.

We had prepared a video of his life for that day, which played in loop for the whole duration of the viewing. Our dad had been very involved in the local community. As the city was still young, he organized a variety of events to put the city on the map: he introduced a winter carnival, golf tournaments with illustrious guests from the world of professional sports, managed various fund raisers and if that was not enough, he also coached hockey and baseball teams for years. When my brother was old enough, he brought him along for the ride. That is probably where he acquired his love for marketing as he learnt it bit by bit from our dad. He also got to meet all the sports celebrities of the day. He got to hold the Stanley cup… and the Grey cup!   

But this time, probably for the first time, we were the ones paying homage to him and not the other way around…

When I was younger, I really loved going to the most sacred sports arena: the Montréal Forum to watch the Canadiens play, “the holly flannel” we call them. We were quite privileged because, despite the fact that we couldn’t possibly afford season tickets, we had the infinite luck to have an aunt who worked as the Executive Secretary to the president of a large company which owned several season tickets along with a couple of private corporate boxes where my brother spent many a wonderful time with his favourite cousin (he was my aunts only child), watching their favourite team win game after game (in those days, the late 70,s, the Canadiens was a formidable team, winning Stanley cups after Stanley cup (we had that privilege from 1976 to 1986 where they won 5 Stanley cups. My brother had the great luck to witness the uprising of a future legend during the first playoff game between the Canadiens and the Edmonton Oilers where a young recruit names Wayne Gretzky scored a total of five assists in a game, still a single playoff record to this day… A sign of things to come as the Oilers, against all odds, eliminated the all mighty Canadiens that year…

I loved going to see them at the Forum with my dad. One day, I even entered unavertedly with him in the team’s locker room! Imagine! In those days, female sports interviewers didn’t exist. Imagine if I went in, I could have become a sports celebrity in my own right lol! My brother got to go in though. He loved it as he could fantasize being one day one of the players as he was already a fairly good goalie by then. One time, he even got to be a water boy/door opener for the local football team, the Alouettes. On that day, they played an exhibition hockey game in our town, one a year when they had won the Grey Cup. He told me that, in the middle of the game, they brought the Grey Cup on the ice to show it to the fans. Then, when the coach brought the cup back to the bench, it just so happened that my brother was the closest person to him so he was handed the cup… for a split second that was, because one of the players, a giant 6 foot 6 linesman (most of the players were African-Americans and bigger that any professional sports players my brother had ever seen before), literally grabbed the cup from over my brother’s shoulders (who already measured 5 foot 9 at the time), giving him the fright of his life, and returned it into the change room. My brother got to go into the change room after the game that day. But this time, I don’t know what happened but, he came out of there with a weird look on his face, as if he had seen monsters in there or something…     

Losing her father is indeed one of the most painful event in a woman’s life; he was my first love as a kid, the first men to tell you throughout your childhood that you were beautiful, the first one to encourage you relentlessly in everything you decided you try…

Back at the funeral, with some help from my brother, I started naming the celebrities my dad befriended during those years as they appeared on the video behind me…

Then, I stopped, as I somehow suddenly felt my dad’s presence telling me that, for him, those who were the most important to him, are those who are in this room in front of you. They have all been the ones who truly mattered to me. Most important of all, you my five kids and their two mother which I have loved dearly.

Each time I talk to him since, he is always accompanied by his beloved mother which we all loved dearly. That summer, after I finally rekindled with my gift, thanks to the archangels, Vladimir and most importantly my son. I am also thankful that I have finally been able to re initiate contacts with his father.  

At the end of our loving conversation, one with a father and her daughter which have not been in touch for ages. Then, he insisted that I spoke to my grandma who had been patiently waiting next to him the whole time.

She had a question to ask me:

- “Nathalie, why are you using drugs for?”.

- “Because I am in constant pain grandma”.

- “but why using drugs? (what the… grandma? What’s up with your ears? You never had issues with your hearing before? Is it because we have a bad connection or something? Don’t they have fibre optic internet up there?)”.  

- “Surely you can ask your specialist for better pain killers or something?”, she added: (I made sure to read what she said to make sure I used her exact words).

… Dear grandma. I’d bet that it was you who had a private audience with my specialist to get him to fine tune my medication that time?

I must admit candidly that drugs and prescribed medication rarely get along well… And in Québec, we consume heaps of medication. Perhaps more than any other province…

In order to facilitate my cannabis consumption, the Canadian Health Department was even ready to provide me with cannabis seeds in order for me to grow my own personal crop… Imagine! Me, girly as I am with my little fancy dresses and matching accessories trying to grow my own weed… My own pusher even suggested that I grew them in individual pots so I could take them inside in winter… I panicked just thinking of it. And what if someone came to steal them?  

***

Each time I communicate with my dad now, which has been on a weekly basis for a couple of years, he has always made sure to name himself, then he salutes each one of his descendants, one by one, then tell us he loves us, blesses each one of us and protect us from is vintage point…

(Note from the author who is now trembling):

On this 14th of July (which coincidentally, happens to be the day our French cousins celebrate 1789’s Bastille Day). Me and my son decided to have lunch at my mother-in-law’s favourite restaurant, located nearby her house. The menu has thousands of choices it seemed. And I was starving (not literally you might say as I have copious reserves accumulated over the years but hey).

That day, contrarily to my usual custom, I tried something new, which I haven’t done for quite a while. And I didn’t regret it. I finished the whole meal despite the fact that I stopped being hungry a while ago…

-       “Don’t waste food!” have I been repeatedly told my entire life…

I could try to send my leftovers to people in starving countries? Or to those who are starving right here in our backyards?

How can I since we don’t have a fridge for the doggy bag. It has been broken for a few days. We had not one but two repairmen who tried to fix it but to no avail.

Finally, this week we had to resort to buying a brand-new fridge which will be delivered on Tuesday.

I try to work on the book for a while but I can’t really get into it… In a nutshell, I have to go to bed very soon.

Later, my loving man came to see and softly whispered in my ear…

-        “I’m taking Dr. Piwie and her nurse (Dandine) for a long walk in the sun… I quickly went back to sleep knowing that my little four-legged friends won’t just appear from nowhere to disrupt my rest… Love you my man.

 As I am slowly falling asleep, the doorbell rings. My heart is racing all of a sudden as if I can sense that something important is about to happen. But what?

Before I opened the door…

I signed myself!

(I swear I have never done that before in my life signing myself before opening a door…).

Waiting patiently on the other side of the door was a gorgeous young lady with eyes the colour of lead who smiled at me as she handed me a copy of her own CD which she played for me.

She had the voice of an angel… I even touched her to be sure that she was real…  Unfortunately, I forgot her name! Sorry little angel.

-        “You have an amazing voice”, I told her. “furthermore, you are wearing pink clothes which is quite funny as I was just writing a story about a woman in pink…”.

On top of it, I am wearing a night gown the exact same colour of her top, we look just like sisters. What are the odds…

Right there and then, I obtained my very first authorization to feature that very song in my book or at least on the Web Site which will complement the book…

But the story doesn’t stop there… I found I didn’t have any money on me to purchase her CD so she gave me a piece of paper on which was written:

“Amnesty International: let’s fight indifference! Let’s move from compassion to action!”. It was faith, I reflected…

The next day, I was on my way to pick up my son in St. Eulalie. I didn’t wear any makeup and my hair wasn’t done, I had red nail polish on (I was getting sick of pink…), and even if it didn’t match, I was wearing my fuschia-coloured dress…

(after all, I wasn’t on my way to a fashion show, I was just going to pick up my son who spent the weekend in the woods with friends. I never thought one minute that I would be recording myself that day…).

Before leaving, I said jokingly to my man, that if I don’t come back…

To remember that I really loved him. I wasn’t really totally joking at the time; since the fatidic day I was presented with the “five words”, I had the unsettling feeling that I could somehow die at any moment which is why I am in a race against time to complete my book…