Pub quiz night = hilarity. Here’s this year’s coveted trophy:
Staci really outdid herself with that one. The event took place on boxing day and generated donations for the Powell River food bank. Nice work people; nice work.
Sister Sarah, Lisa, Brandy, and Tracy were the smrtest team in 2011:
But some of us like to ride coattails:
In my defense, I was on the winning team that lost in 2009, Joey’s team won in 2010 and I still have the trophy in my kitchen, and my sister was one of the 2011 champions. Is it possible to be smrt by association?
On a side note, I’m not sure which was a bigger hit: Staci’s trophy or Tracy’s vest. Only you can decide:
Here’s some memories of happier Christmases.
Me yelling “Look excited!”:
The present was not that exciting; it was a pair of earmuffs. But Joey was very obliging.
Joey riding some reindeer at his staff Christmas party at Arbutus Ridge:
Testing to see if he could still get an earring in after 5 years of not wearing one:
With Keltie on Christmas day:
With me on Christmas day:
At the tree farm with mom and dad:
Hanging Christmas cards at our apartment in Victoria:
Our first Christmas home after his lung transplant, enjoying the Bud and Sharon show:
I went back to St. Paul’s yesterday. I had some movies that hadn’t made it back to the CF resource room after Joey died. I also wanted to see the CF clinic staff and drop off some treats for the people who have to be in hospital over Christmas. I’ve been having a hard time forcing myself to walk through the doors and Christmas served as a convenient cut point. It was hard, but I’m glad I went. I had a good talk/cry with the people there.
It was a weird place to go back to. That said, it was also a weird place to stay away from; I’ve been going there since I was 18. I know the hallways well. The chronically slow elevators, the familiar faces of the staff and patients, the view outside when you finally get to the floor where you are going. When the doors opened on 7 and I didn’t have to get out, I stifled a cry. Why does he have to be gone? I can’t believe this happened.
I’m glad I went back. The feeling that I had to do so has been looming for quite a while. I’m sure I’ll be back again.
Lucky for me, I then got to drive out to Coquitlam and have a lightening visit with Rylie and Brendan. We had a great time grabbing a quick bite, doing some last minute Christmas shopping, and horsing around in the mall.
Back in PR now to ride out the rest of Christmas.
Too down to blog lately. Have received a few nice emails from some of my peeps. Thanks for that. I appreciate them.
I think I might be the only person who is disappointed that the days are going to start getting longer now. Nighttime offers relief. Another day almost done; pressure is off, I made it through again.
Can’t wait for Christmas to be over.
I got an email the other day from a friend of mine whose wife passed away from CF (she died on the waiting list for transplant in BC). He noted that I seem to be hitting a rough patch and guessed that the stress of wondering what Christmas will be like is probably hitting me hard. He’s got that right. That’s part of it anyway. The other part is just straight up missing Joey, but I don’t think Christmas is helping. The suffering regime is in full effect.
I wish I could hit the fast forward button and come out on the other side okay. Fast forward through Christmas, fast forward through the pain, fast forward through figuring out what I’m going to do for the rest of my life. Fast forward to see if I turn out okay.
I think it’s time for another reprieve from suffering.
Sharon’s service went as well as it could have. Very sad, but good to have some laughs with her fam too.
The new suffering regime is going okay, but is emotionally exhausting. I guess that’s the point. I wonder how long I have to cry for before things start to get better?
Deep thoughts for a Sunday.
Here’s the happy grad:
With her classmate:
Proud daughter with Momma:
Auntie Julie, Jas, and Shelley:
Me and Shell:
Shelley, Jas, and Shelley’s pseudo-daughter Kara at MccyD’s:
Isn’t that where every classy evening ends up?
“You up for McDonalds?”
Spoken like a true graduate.