So The Bruins won their first Stanley Cup in 39 years yesterday. I was on the edge of my seat and rooting for them since they eliminated the Habs in the first round.
So here is the logic of my choices: I am a proud Montrealer so obviously, my favorite NHL team is the Montreal Canadiens. I have pulled for them since...as long as I can remember. I have seen 2 Stanley Cups come to Montreal in my lifetime that I remember. They also won it in 1976, 1977, 1978, and 1979, years I was alive but don't really recall. So that's really 6 Cups in my lifetime. I also pull for the Boston Bruins. There are two main reasons: one is that I have now lived in Massachusetts for 12 or so years and have a great attachment to the area. Secondly, one of my best friends (of over 20 years) is also a die hard Bruins fan. As much as it killed me at first, I wanted to join my friend in cheering on a team. I started really liking them in the Neely, Bourque era. Because of this, they have been my second favorite NHL team for about 20 years. I pull for the Bruins 76 games of the regular season (they play the Habs 6 times a year). And because of my beautiful daughter, I am now a Worcester Sharks fan. They are local and easy to get tickets too.
My favorite sport is football. I am more of a NFL fan than a CFL fan or NCAA Football. My favorite team? Growing up in Montreal, you got most of the National broadcast of the NFL. In the early 80s, America's Team was on more often than not. Being 5 and thinking a star as a logo was pretty cool, I clung to the Dallas Cowboys. And I have been a fan of them ever since. I have seen them won 3 Super Bowls. They also won one when I was 2 and lost one when I was three. I really don't remember those two. But I am loyal to the Cowboys. Living in New England, I learned to cling to the local team, the New England Patriots. I went to a few games when I moved here in 1999. I pull for them, as long as they don't face the Cowboys, which only happens every 4 years. I have been here for 3 Super Bowl win and one loss. Not bad, I guess. I do watch some CFL when I can and I pull for the only team I can pull for: The Montreal Alouettes. I have been to many games up in Canada and I even saw them when they were the Concordes (Montrealers will remember them). I have seen 3 Grey Cup championships in my lifetime. I watch them when they sneak them on NESN or the NFL Network. I also follow them online when I can.
I am not a huge baseball fan but I have seen more Montreal Expos games than I can count. I am an Expo forever. And yes, I know they were forced out in 2004 by MLB and scummy Bud Selig. They never officially won any World Series but they were going to win in 1994 until they pulled the plug on the season. They were going to win and to me, they will be the 1994 World Series champ forever. Again, being in New England, I pull for the Red Sox but that didn't start when I moved here. I started to like them in 1986. Why? Well the New York Mets had stolen my favorite Expo, Gary Carter. I was pulling against them. So I was rooting for the Red Sox then. After the you know what happened, I pulled for them in the AL. Just because of that incident. The Sox won in 2004 and 2007 and I was very happy to live here during that time.
Basketball? Never been a huge fan. I liked the Celtics when they had those fun Championships game against the Lakers in the 1980s. And I didn't like the purple and gold. The green seemed nice and simple. I was happy to be here in 2008 and watched some of the games. Honestly, I just can't watch basketball that much. I'll pull for UMASS and BC just because they are local.
Soccer? Montreal has had several teams: the Manic, the Supra, and the Impact. I don't watch a lot of soccer but I will always pull for the local teams. Next year the Impact will join MLS. I have always pulled for the New England Revolution due to them being local. Starting next year, I will pull for the New England Revolution all the time except whern they face the Impact. As for European soccer, I do not have any attachment to any particular team except Feyenoord in the Dutch league. If you want to know why, one of my friend is Dutch and that's his favorite team. Loyalty.
Finally, a small paragraph on my citizenship. I will be a Quebecer and Canadian forever. I have been in the US for 12 years and could go for my citizenship. I have yet to do it for a specific reason: in the US citizen oath, you must forgo all other citizenships...And I will never do that. I love America, and it is my home...but letting go of my citizenship of Canada? Never! I may have to break down and do it so I can vote and make it easy for my girls. We shall see.
Hope this made sense!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Feeling horrible about things (part three)
The next morning, with few hours (or was it minutes?) of sleep, I got Catherine ready for preschool knowing full well that I had to tell the day care that I dropped my youngest daughter on her head. Catherine took her time and frankly, I was not going to rush her. When we got to daycare, they asked where Christina was. With tears in my eyes, I explained what happened and that she was at Chidren`s Hospital. They were all concern and asked me if I was OK. I didn`t answer just shaking my head. I left Catherine, leaving embarassed and ready to cry. I called work to let them know I would not be there. After I explained what happened, they told me to take care of myslef.
I drove to Boston. I got there fairly fast, missing rush hour. I got there and was received with a giant smile by Christina. That meant the world to me. After a few minutes, I realized she was fine. I had brought a change of clothes for her and some stuff for my wife. After being told she would be discharged, we were visited by a `technician`about how to properly fasten a seatbelt on a babyseat. That was pretty embarassing but I also felt anger for the first time.
We were discharged a few hours later (2-3 hours after being told we would be discharged). While waiting, we spoke to our roomies who had a 4 week old with spina bifida. This made me realize how lucky we were to have healthy girls. I also though about our friends`child who had a heart procedure there a year or so to the day we were there...again realizing our luck that we lived near one of the best Children`s Hospital in the world.
Christina has been great since then. There seems to be no long-term effects of what happened on her. I jokingly tell people she is doing better than I am...if only it was a joke. I have been still struggling with some flashbacks. I still think I am the worse father in the world. Believe me, I got many encouraging statements from others, but nothing is resonating to be perfectly honest.
Some have said to me that they also dropped their kids on their 'blank'...frankly that is not helpful...made me feel like they did not ackowledge what I was going through. It seems like it minimized it and made me feel worse for feeling so bad. I know it was meant as helpful but it wasn`t. If you are a friend and recognize yourself, I hope yu are not offended by this statement. I just want to be honest. Empathy may have been better received. A specific person told me "Don`t you work on a crisis team? Shouldn`t you be able to handle this?". That was one of the most frustrating statement I heard. I wanted to do something to them. And no, it was not said in a joke. I also feel not very manly not being able to get "over it".
I also have a memory that has been hard to erase. There was a man sitting on a bench talking on a cell phone at the restaurant when Christina fell on her head. This guy saw everything happen and never stopped his conversation or offered to help. Sometimes I get angry, sometimes I get sad, but mostly I want to find this man and ask him why he did not offer any assistance. I guess people don`t know how to react but come on...I couldn`t let this situation go on in front of my eyes without doing something. I just wish I could talk to this guy.
One other statement that I have heard is the following: "Because you are upset, that shows how much you are a great dad". I feel really sad when I hear that. All I can tell myself when I hear this is "If I was really a good dad, I would have never, ever forgotten to strap my child in". I am hard on myself maybe.
I have spoken to an EAP therapist twice. I am getting ready to go into more counseling and/or EMDR very soon. Maybe that will help. I have been eating more and still sleeping restlessly. There are some flashback moments still. I am unhappy with many things in my life right now but unsure why. I feel like I am going crazy sometimes. And the one thing I don`t want is pity. I have had enough of that, but if you ask me what I need and what I have learned, I struggle to find that answer...
I drove to Boston. I got there fairly fast, missing rush hour. I got there and was received with a giant smile by Christina. That meant the world to me. After a few minutes, I realized she was fine. I had brought a change of clothes for her and some stuff for my wife. After being told she would be discharged, we were visited by a `technician`about how to properly fasten a seatbelt on a babyseat. That was pretty embarassing but I also felt anger for the first time.
We were discharged a few hours later (2-3 hours after being told we would be discharged). While waiting, we spoke to our roomies who had a 4 week old with spina bifida. This made me realize how lucky we were to have healthy girls. I also though about our friends`child who had a heart procedure there a year or so to the day we were there...again realizing our luck that we lived near one of the best Children`s Hospital in the world.
Christina has been great since then. There seems to be no long-term effects of what happened on her. I jokingly tell people she is doing better than I am...if only it was a joke. I have been still struggling with some flashbacks. I still think I am the worse father in the world. Believe me, I got many encouraging statements from others, but nothing is resonating to be perfectly honest.
Some have said to me that they also dropped their kids on their 'blank'...frankly that is not helpful...made me feel like they did not ackowledge what I was going through. It seems like it minimized it and made me feel worse for feeling so bad. I know it was meant as helpful but it wasn`t. If you are a friend and recognize yourself, I hope yu are not offended by this statement. I just want to be honest. Empathy may have been better received. A specific person told me "Don`t you work on a crisis team? Shouldn`t you be able to handle this?". That was one of the most frustrating statement I heard. I wanted to do something to them. And no, it was not said in a joke. I also feel not very manly not being able to get "over it".
I also have a memory that has been hard to erase. There was a man sitting on a bench talking on a cell phone at the restaurant when Christina fell on her head. This guy saw everything happen and never stopped his conversation or offered to help. Sometimes I get angry, sometimes I get sad, but mostly I want to find this man and ask him why he did not offer any assistance. I guess people don`t know how to react but come on...I couldn`t let this situation go on in front of my eyes without doing something. I just wish I could talk to this guy.
One other statement that I have heard is the following: "Because you are upset, that shows how much you are a great dad". I feel really sad when I hear that. All I can tell myself when I hear this is "If I was really a good dad, I would have never, ever forgotten to strap my child in". I am hard on myself maybe.
I have spoken to an EAP therapist twice. I am getting ready to go into more counseling and/or EMDR very soon. Maybe that will help. I have been eating more and still sleeping restlessly. There are some flashback moments still. I am unhappy with many things in my life right now but unsure why. I feel like I am going crazy sometimes. And the one thing I don`t want is pity. I have had enough of that, but if you ask me what I need and what I have learned, I struggle to find that answer...
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Feeling horrible about things (part two)
So we now know that Christina must go to Children's hospital after they do a CT scan and find blood on her brain. The guilt just shot through me. At that point, we don't know the quantity or anything, we are told she needs to go to Children's because they are specialized on this subject. Now, I cannot react to much, as Catherine is now with us and any type of bad reaction (i.e. crying, getting upset) I know will affect her. We tell her that Christina needs to go in the ambulance to another hospital to make sure everything is OK. Inside me, I want to die. Literally.
So they get Christina ready for the ambulance ride by putting in a line for an IV "in case". Again, my heart sinks. If you know my Christina, she is a little pudgy baby so finding a vein is hard. So I take Catherine for a walk after the first scream and cry from Christina. I walk her around the ER and outside the hospital. I can hear Christina yell and scream and cry anywhere we go. Catherine is asking tons of questions and I try to answer her:
Catherine: "Will we go in the ambulance? "
Me: "No"
Catherine: "Why?"
Me: "Because there isn't enough space but we will drive there in my car?"
Catherine: "Is she OK?"
Me: "She'll be OK. It is a great hospital." Inside, I am feeling like the biggest failure in the world.
Well, we walk around for what felt like 2 hours. It was about 20 minutes. Christina is screaming bloody murder.
Catherine: "Are they hurting Christina?"
Me: "No, they are trying to make sure she'll be OK." In my head, I'm thinking IV=bad news.
Catherine: "I want to go see her."
Me: "Let's wait"
We finally go in and hey got the IV in. Christina smiles at me and her sister...but inside I still feel horrible. Christina, through all this, seems to get back to her normal self, appearing tired but smiling and wanting to nurse. She was doing much better but I certainly was getting worse.
We bring the car seat to the stretcher. And if you have ever seen that site, it makes you sad. It did for me. We kiss Christina and my wife and we get ready to go to my car. Catherine is crying, wanting to be with her sister. I am so proud she cares so much for her sister and I want to punish myself for putting both of them through this stuff.
We get to the car and get ready to drive. I get some DD for us, Catherine forgetting a little what was going on, enjoying her munchkins. I call my mom and cry like a little baby on the phone. My mom could not understand me for the first few minutes. My mom, the great coach that she is, reminds me that I need to stay strong for everyone. She makes me feel OK about this incident for a few minutes and the pep talks works.
We drive to Boston, Catherine falls asleep on the way. In my head, I am going through many scenarios, including long-term hospitalization, brain trauma injury, and anything else in between. I also worry about telling others, feeling ashamed and embarrassed, even letting a good friend at work know: "Don't tell anyone about this". I finally proved that I was a bad parent.
We get to the ER and she is in the "neurological" ER room. We wait for about an hour. We try to keep everyone entertain, playing peekaboo and playing with the toys in their diaper bag, as well as a toy the ER staff provided. We also get some food. Catherine gets the food with me and we see cool things, like fish, a ball display, a waterfall. Catherine is getting tired and struggling. This whole incident has probably had an effect on her. I decide to post a little note about Christina on Facebook, after my wife did so. I am feeling embarassed but I figured I would let people know. Maybe their comforting would help me. The doctor finally comes in and without really looking at Christina, he says: "We'll keep her overnight". Panicked, I start asking questions:
Me: "How much blood is on the brain?"
Dr. "Just a little but it is procedure to keep them overnight."
Me: "Is there any other damage?"
Dr.: "There is no concussion or cracked skull"
Me: "How long will she be here?"
Dr.: "If nothing changes in her behavior, she will be discharged tomorrow. We feel like it is better to keep her here than if she starts throwing up or any other negative symptoms and have you drive back all the way to Boston."
My instinct is that this is my mistake I should stay. My wonderful talks some sense to me and lets me know that I cannot nurse Christina. I drive back with Catherine to our home, and on the way, I ask Catherine if she has any questions and let her process everything. On the drive home, as I answer some Catherine questions, my head and my heart are racing and I am feeling like the worse person in the world.
As I put Catherine to bed, I hold her really tight, and try to keep my head from exploding. I stay with her until she falls asleep. As I stay up late, I am happy a friend called and checked on me and asked me how I was doing. I hold back my true feelings. I go to bed, the bed feeling really big, the house feeling empty without Christina and my wife. I sleep a couple of hours, if that, my head racing, reliving the exact moment I dropped my Christina and unable to take those images and sounds out of my head. I think I am losing my mind.
So they get Christina ready for the ambulance ride by putting in a line for an IV "in case". Again, my heart sinks. If you know my Christina, she is a little pudgy baby so finding a vein is hard. So I take Catherine for a walk after the first scream and cry from Christina. I walk her around the ER and outside the hospital. I can hear Christina yell and scream and cry anywhere we go. Catherine is asking tons of questions and I try to answer her:
Catherine: "Will we go in the ambulance? "
Me: "No"
Catherine: "Why?"
Me: "Because there isn't enough space but we will drive there in my car?"
Catherine: "Is she OK?"
Me: "She'll be OK. It is a great hospital." Inside, I am feeling like the biggest failure in the world.
Well, we walk around for what felt like 2 hours. It was about 20 minutes. Christina is screaming bloody murder.
Catherine: "Are they hurting Christina?"
Me: "No, they are trying to make sure she'll be OK." In my head, I'm thinking IV=bad news.
Catherine: "I want to go see her."
Me: "Let's wait"
We finally go in and hey got the IV in. Christina smiles at me and her sister...but inside I still feel horrible. Christina, through all this, seems to get back to her normal self, appearing tired but smiling and wanting to nurse. She was doing much better but I certainly was getting worse.
We bring the car seat to the stretcher. And if you have ever seen that site, it makes you sad. It did for me. We kiss Christina and my wife and we get ready to go to my car. Catherine is crying, wanting to be with her sister. I am so proud she cares so much for her sister and I want to punish myself for putting both of them through this stuff.
We get to the car and get ready to drive. I get some DD for us, Catherine forgetting a little what was going on, enjoying her munchkins. I call my mom and cry like a little baby on the phone. My mom could not understand me for the first few minutes. My mom, the great coach that she is, reminds me that I need to stay strong for everyone. She makes me feel OK about this incident for a few minutes and the pep talks works.
We drive to Boston, Catherine falls asleep on the way. In my head, I am going through many scenarios, including long-term hospitalization, brain trauma injury, and anything else in between. I also worry about telling others, feeling ashamed and embarrassed, even letting a good friend at work know: "Don't tell anyone about this". I finally proved that I was a bad parent.
We get to the ER and she is in the "neurological" ER room. We wait for about an hour. We try to keep everyone entertain, playing peekaboo and playing with the toys in their diaper bag, as well as a toy the ER staff provided. We also get some food. Catherine gets the food with me and we see cool things, like fish, a ball display, a waterfall. Catherine is getting tired and struggling. This whole incident has probably had an effect on her. I decide to post a little note about Christina on Facebook, after my wife did so. I am feeling embarassed but I figured I would let people know. Maybe their comforting would help me. The doctor finally comes in and without really looking at Christina, he says: "We'll keep her overnight". Panicked, I start asking questions:
Me: "How much blood is on the brain?"
Dr. "Just a little but it is procedure to keep them overnight."
Me: "Is there any other damage?"
Dr.: "There is no concussion or cracked skull"
Me: "How long will she be here?"
Dr.: "If nothing changes in her behavior, she will be discharged tomorrow. We feel like it is better to keep her here than if she starts throwing up or any other negative symptoms and have you drive back all the way to Boston."
My instinct is that this is my mistake I should stay. My wonderful talks some sense to me and lets me know that I cannot nurse Christina. I drive back with Catherine to our home, and on the way, I ask Catherine if she has any questions and let her process everything. On the drive home, as I answer some Catherine questions, my head and my heart are racing and I am feeling like the worse person in the world.
As I put Catherine to bed, I hold her really tight, and try to keep my head from exploding. I stay with her until she falls asleep. As I stay up late, I am happy a friend called and checked on me and asked me how I was doing. I hold back my true feelings. I go to bed, the bed feeling really big, the house feeling empty without Christina and my wife. I sleep a couple of hours, if that, my head racing, reliving the exact moment I dropped my Christina and unable to take those images and sounds out of my head. I think I am losing my mind.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Feeling horrible about things (part one)
I have been wanting to write for the past three weeks but it's just been a struggle. First things first: I was probably sick for the whole month of March. My doctor, after the third (yes, that is correct) set of medications finally figured out what I needed. At first, it was walking pneumonia, then it was my asthma getting worse, and finally it was a bacteria in my throat. The third time's the charm I guess. Let's just say that March has been difficult physically. I coughed a lot, I had trouble breathing, my energy levels were down, and I had trouble sleeping.
At first, my sleep was difficult due to trouble breathing: I would wake up coughing, out of breath, or even choking. However, another event really rocked me, and to this day, it has been giving me trouble sleeping, has given me flashbacks, and to relive the moment on a regular, daily basis. I am writing this and I am cringing and struggling with even thinking about writing about it. On St-Patrick's day, around 1PM, I, Catherine, and Christina were leaving Chicago Uno's after lunch. I transported Christina in her baby seat back to the car, Catherine in tow. Once at the car, I remembered that I should ask the toddler if she needs to go to the bathroom. You know how that could be once on the way to somewhere.When I did ask her, she said she needed to go.
I get her out of her seat. I went to Christina's side and lift the baby seat out of the holder and as I do that...Christina comes out of the seat head first to the cement in the parking lot. The seat must have been 3-4 feet from the ground. I got to admit that the "tud" it made when she hit the ground...it still haunts me daily...I hear that noise 2-4 times a day and I cringe. The first thing she did was cry, which, in a weird way, made me feel good. I put her back in her seat and yelled at Catherine to get in the car. Catherine, now crying, asked me where we were going, I told her to the hospital. She cried louder, thinking she was going to the hospital. I told her it was for Christina.
Christina is crying and I am a mess at this point. Catherine yells "Don't forget her shoe!". Her shoe had fallen off and was in the parking lot. I pick it up, throw it in the car, Catherine is crying, Christina is yelling and I am having trouble talking and breathing. I decide at that point that I am rushing to the Milford ER. I am one town over. I call a buddy of mine who is a detective. Barely able to talk clearly, I ask him for help. He does not understand me. While driving, I take a deep breath and tell him what happen. He told me to wait for the ambulance. I tell him I am already on the way to the hospital and maybe meeting me half way would help. I keep an eye on Christina, who is crying. My buddy says OK and will drive his vehicle my way.
Suddenly, Christina stops crying. She looks slumped. My heart sinks. I yell to Catherine: "Talk to your sister" "Is she awake?". Catherine, now stops crying, says "She's awake". I tell her to talk to her to keep her awake. To this day, I am extremely impressed how she reacted to my behavior and this emergency.
I call my wife via her work. I ask the secretary to break into her session NOW! I feel bad I was not polite. When my wife answers, I am sobbing, not able to make coherent sentences and she tells me to calm down. After a minute, I tell her Christina was dropped on her head and to meet me at the Milford ER. She hangs up as my buddy is calling on the other line.
I talk to him and he asks me where I am while I continue to tell Catherine to keep Christina busy. He finally locates me and gives me an escort to the Milford ER. My buddy takes care of Catherine while I rush in with Christina and they seemed to know what happened. They take her in right away. My calm demeanor, which I usually display in other people's crisis, is now gone. I am asked my phone number: "I don't know" and then proceed to give the phone number to the ER I work at sometimes. I am unable to give any info coherently. Christina has already calmed down and is no longer crying. I am comforted by many staff at the Milford ER and I am crying like a baby. I am just so messed up. Christina is smiling and charming everyone. She has a huge bump on the left side of her head and I cry looking at it and, to this day, my eyes water when I think about this lump.
My wife gets there and takes her in her arms. Christina seems so comfortable. I, on the other hand, feel like a bad father. I also feel like I failed my wife. I feel like I yelled at Catherine and did not help her at all understand what happened. I am grateful for my buddy. I am grateful for the staff at the ER. I am grateful for the support from the boys in blue. My wife was supportive. Me? I wanted to die. How could I let this happen? Why didn't I secure her? I was so down on myself. I still am. I feel horrible. All preliminary tests are normal. They do a CT scan...oh oh...blood on the brain...we need to transport her via ambulance to Children's Hospital...
At first, my sleep was difficult due to trouble breathing: I would wake up coughing, out of breath, or even choking. However, another event really rocked me, and to this day, it has been giving me trouble sleeping, has given me flashbacks, and to relive the moment on a regular, daily basis. I am writing this and I am cringing and struggling with even thinking about writing about it. On St-Patrick's day, around 1PM, I, Catherine, and Christina were leaving Chicago Uno's after lunch. I transported Christina in her baby seat back to the car, Catherine in tow. Once at the car, I remembered that I should ask the toddler if she needs to go to the bathroom. You know how that could be once on the way to somewhere.When I did ask her, she said she needed to go.
I get her out of her seat. I went to Christina's side and lift the baby seat out of the holder and as I do that...Christina comes out of the seat head first to the cement in the parking lot. The seat must have been 3-4 feet from the ground. I got to admit that the "tud" it made when she hit the ground...it still haunts me daily...I hear that noise 2-4 times a day and I cringe. The first thing she did was cry, which, in a weird way, made me feel good. I put her back in her seat and yelled at Catherine to get in the car. Catherine, now crying, asked me where we were going, I told her to the hospital. She cried louder, thinking she was going to the hospital. I told her it was for Christina.
Christina is crying and I am a mess at this point. Catherine yells "Don't forget her shoe!". Her shoe had fallen off and was in the parking lot. I pick it up, throw it in the car, Catherine is crying, Christina is yelling and I am having trouble talking and breathing. I decide at that point that I am rushing to the Milford ER. I am one town over. I call a buddy of mine who is a detective. Barely able to talk clearly, I ask him for help. He does not understand me. While driving, I take a deep breath and tell him what happen. He told me to wait for the ambulance. I tell him I am already on the way to the hospital and maybe meeting me half way would help. I keep an eye on Christina, who is crying. My buddy says OK and will drive his vehicle my way.
Suddenly, Christina stops crying. She looks slumped. My heart sinks. I yell to Catherine: "Talk to your sister" "Is she awake?". Catherine, now stops crying, says "She's awake". I tell her to talk to her to keep her awake. To this day, I am extremely impressed how she reacted to my behavior and this emergency.
I call my wife via her work. I ask the secretary to break into her session NOW! I feel bad I was not polite. When my wife answers, I am sobbing, not able to make coherent sentences and she tells me to calm down. After a minute, I tell her Christina was dropped on her head and to meet me at the Milford ER. She hangs up as my buddy is calling on the other line.
I talk to him and he asks me where I am while I continue to tell Catherine to keep Christina busy. He finally locates me and gives me an escort to the Milford ER. My buddy takes care of Catherine while I rush in with Christina and they seemed to know what happened. They take her in right away. My calm demeanor, which I usually display in other people's crisis, is now gone. I am asked my phone number: "I don't know" and then proceed to give the phone number to the ER I work at sometimes. I am unable to give any info coherently. Christina has already calmed down and is no longer crying. I am comforted by many staff at the Milford ER and I am crying like a baby. I am just so messed up. Christina is smiling and charming everyone. She has a huge bump on the left side of her head and I cry looking at it and, to this day, my eyes water when I think about this lump.
My wife gets there and takes her in her arms. Christina seems so comfortable. I, on the other hand, feel like a bad father. I also feel like I failed my wife. I feel like I yelled at Catherine and did not help her at all understand what happened. I am grateful for my buddy. I am grateful for the staff at the ER. I am grateful for the support from the boys in blue. My wife was supportive. Me? I wanted to die. How could I let this happen? Why didn't I secure her? I was so down on myself. I still am. I feel horrible. All preliminary tests are normal. They do a CT scan...oh oh...blood on the brain...we need to transport her via ambulance to Children's Hospital...
Friday, March 11, 2011
I am a sentimental person....(part 2)
There is not only the Montreal Expos that make me a sentimental guy. I am proud to be a Quebecer and a Canadian (in that order, by the way) and want my girls to speak French at all costs. I struggle a lot with that. I really try to not make a big deal out of it, yet, when Catherine does not try to speak French because "It's too hard" I get angry...I also want to give up. After all, why would my girls really need French? French is probably the 4th language in the U.S. (if that). No one here really speaks French and when I mention it, it seems like people say "that's nice", "that's really good" but I always feel they are just trying to be nice.
I speak Quebecois, not French, which also limits our contacts in French around here...French from France is like English from England...it's the same...but not the same. I don't mean it disrespectfully but a hockey puck is "la puck" in Quebec, not "le palet"...And this joke is only funny if you are From Quebec. My girls seem to understand but they do not speak it all that much (OK, the seven month old does not say any words yet), and that makes me sad. I feel I am failing my family, my roots, myself...I don't quite know why. I mean I try right? Is that enough?
Well for me it's not...does it makes me too sentimental for my home country? Am I too nutty? I already have plans to send my girls to a French-Canadian immersion program. IS it worth it? Sometimes I wonder. I feel like I am the only one who cares. I'll give credit to my wife, who encourages me to continue but when visiting Quebec, even my French relatives "practice" their English with my girls. I understand why they do it, but it bothers me...and yet I know why they do it. And I never know how to react. Should I get mad at them for their effort? OR should I just let it go? Last time, I just let it go because I am sick of fighting. And I want to be good. I just don't know if this is romanticizing where I am from or is it a very important issue I should fight for...I just want to do what's best for my girls.
And on another subject, I so wish I could be in Montreal with the Bs-Habs rivalry hitting new heights. A lot of people just switch to their local team when they move but I just cannot turn my back on "Le Canadien". For the records, Chara should have had a 2-3 game suspension with a fine. And I will be Canadiens fan forever...because I am loyal. Which brings me to another point: is loyalty and sentimentality so related that it is one and the same? I don't know if I can deliberate it here on my own blog but I'll take a stab at it and you let me know your thoughts.
I think loyalty comes from some sentimentality. Sentimentality makes you feel "warm and fuzzy", where loyalty fills you with pride...but I think sentimentality may be related to pride also...and it makes you feel like "you owe" whoever you are loyal to something. I think sometimes that where I work is related to both loyalty and sentimentality...So are most of my family and friends...How do we separate both? I really don't know. All I know is I have both and sometimes confuse both of them. Maybe, what I have is a confusion of the English language and I should stick with French just based on loyalty...or is it pride...or sentimentality...Oh well!
I speak Quebecois, not French, which also limits our contacts in French around here...French from France is like English from England...it's the same...but not the same. I don't mean it disrespectfully but a hockey puck is "la puck" in Quebec, not "le palet"...And this joke is only funny if you are From Quebec. My girls seem to understand but they do not speak it all that much (OK, the seven month old does not say any words yet), and that makes me sad. I feel I am failing my family, my roots, myself...I don't quite know why. I mean I try right? Is that enough?
Well for me it's not...does it makes me too sentimental for my home country? Am I too nutty? I already have plans to send my girls to a French-Canadian immersion program. IS it worth it? Sometimes I wonder. I feel like I am the only one who cares. I'll give credit to my wife, who encourages me to continue but when visiting Quebec, even my French relatives "practice" their English with my girls. I understand why they do it, but it bothers me...and yet I know why they do it. And I never know how to react. Should I get mad at them for their effort? OR should I just let it go? Last time, I just let it go because I am sick of fighting. And I want to be good. I just don't know if this is romanticizing where I am from or is it a very important issue I should fight for...I just want to do what's best for my girls.
And on another subject, I so wish I could be in Montreal with the Bs-Habs rivalry hitting new heights. A lot of people just switch to their local team when they move but I just cannot turn my back on "Le Canadien". For the records, Chara should have had a 2-3 game suspension with a fine. And I will be Canadiens fan forever...because I am loyal. Which brings me to another point: is loyalty and sentimentality so related that it is one and the same? I don't know if I can deliberate it here on my own blog but I'll take a stab at it and you let me know your thoughts.
I think loyalty comes from some sentimentality. Sentimentality makes you feel "warm and fuzzy", where loyalty fills you with pride...but I think sentimentality may be related to pride also...and it makes you feel like "you owe" whoever you are loyal to something. I think sometimes that where I work is related to both loyalty and sentimentality...So are most of my family and friends...How do we separate both? I really don't know. All I know is I have both and sometimes confuse both of them. Maybe, what I have is a confusion of the English language and I should stick with French just based on loyalty...or is it pride...or sentimentality...Oh well!
Thursday, March 3, 2011
I am a sentimental person....(part 1)
So I have been having a tough time lately. Don't worry, it's not that bad...but I am sadder than usual in the past few weeks. Three recent events have made me sentimental about the past and what has been loss.
The first event: Major League Baseball's Spring Training started a couple of weeks ago. It made me think of all the years I would look at the Grapefruit League schedule and the roster of the people in camp for the Montreal Expos. It was always fun as you never knew who would emerge as a potential superstar. I did that with a sick pleasure since the early 90s. That's when the whole "yearly fire sale" would take place on the Expos roster...yet they kept on producing emerging superstar after emerging superstar. From Grissom, to Walker, to Pedro, to Vidro, to Vlad, they always found a way to make the team exciting.
The second event: Duke Snider passed away last week. I know real baseball fans know him more as a great player on the Brooklyn/L.A. Dodgers but for me, he was one of the best announcers of all time. I would enjoy listening to him and Dave Van Horne on CFCF 600 Montreal do the play by play. I think about them as the best tandem of Expos announcers in history, although, there is something to be said for Rodger Brulotte and Jacques Doucette but I digress...Anyway Duke, to me, was the voice of the Expos.
The final event: the passport pictures I took were rejected and I need to do them yet again. The last time this happened, I was stuck in this country and not able to go see the last game of the Montreal Expos and the Olympic stadium. My grandmother was also sick then and there was a chance I might never see her alive again(luckily, I got to see her several times before she passed in 2006). I was so sad listening to the radio broadcast in French and English from my home here in the USA.
What does this have to do with sentimentality? I am fiercely loyal and always try to remember where I came from, including my heritage and my original home. Montreal is still my hometown, even if I have been gone for 12+ years. I think about it every single day of my life and all the things I miss about it. I read the Internet news, I try to listen to radio broadcasts on Sirius in French, and I am teaching my daughters to speak French, even though it is at times very tough because I am the only one who makes this effort daily. In some ways, it would make more sense to teach them Spanish but I want them to remember where they come from.
I have this guilt that takes a hold of me sometimes that is frightening. Why do I worry so much about keeping my native tongue alive? Why do I still feel sadness and pain when I think of the Montreal Expos? Why do I miss my friends and family in Quebec to the point that I feel guilty and worry that I will never make it "home" again? My home, after all, is here in the US, as my daughters and my wife all live here. I do consider this home but this is so... different...sometimes I just feel like I don't fit it...(To be continued)
The first event: Major League Baseball's Spring Training started a couple of weeks ago. It made me think of all the years I would look at the Grapefruit League schedule and the roster of the people in camp for the Montreal Expos. It was always fun as you never knew who would emerge as a potential superstar. I did that with a sick pleasure since the early 90s. That's when the whole "yearly fire sale" would take place on the Expos roster...yet they kept on producing emerging superstar after emerging superstar. From Grissom, to Walker, to Pedro, to Vidro, to Vlad, they always found a way to make the team exciting.
The second event: Duke Snider passed away last week. I know real baseball fans know him more as a great player on the Brooklyn/L.A. Dodgers but for me, he was one of the best announcers of all time. I would enjoy listening to him and Dave Van Horne on CFCF 600 Montreal do the play by play. I think about them as the best tandem of Expos announcers in history, although, there is something to be said for Rodger Brulotte and Jacques Doucette but I digress...Anyway Duke, to me, was the voice of the Expos.
The final event: the passport pictures I took were rejected and I need to do them yet again. The last time this happened, I was stuck in this country and not able to go see the last game of the Montreal Expos and the Olympic stadium. My grandmother was also sick then and there was a chance I might never see her alive again(luckily, I got to see her several times before she passed in 2006). I was so sad listening to the radio broadcast in French and English from my home here in the USA.
What does this have to do with sentimentality? I am fiercely loyal and always try to remember where I came from, including my heritage and my original home. Montreal is still my hometown, even if I have been gone for 12+ years. I think about it every single day of my life and all the things I miss about it. I read the Internet news, I try to listen to radio broadcasts on Sirius in French, and I am teaching my daughters to speak French, even though it is at times very tough because I am the only one who makes this effort daily. In some ways, it would make more sense to teach them Spanish but I want them to remember where they come from.
I have this guilt that takes a hold of me sometimes that is frightening. Why do I worry so much about keeping my native tongue alive? Why do I still feel sadness and pain when I think of the Montreal Expos? Why do I miss my friends and family in Quebec to the point that I feel guilty and worry that I will never make it "home" again? My home, after all, is here in the US, as my daughters and my wife all live here. I do consider this home but this is so... different...sometimes I just feel like I don't fit it...(To be continued)
Friday, February 25, 2011
Time goes by so fast...and slow...
Since my last blog, I have had many ideas but just did not take the time to write...I will do my best to write more often.
Many things also happened, including my oldest's third birthday, as well a change from daycare to a preschool for her. We changed from a specific daycare to a preschool for a few reasons, but there is a specific one that I will not write about here. For those who know me, feel free to ask me privately. For those of you who don't, I'm sure you can use your logic to figure out why someone would change daycares. Anyway, it was time to go to a preschool and this need, as well as the other issue, made us look for a new place.
It is early, but these educators have already impressed me with their response and their willingness to help out both our oldest and our youngest, who is now in the infant room at the same location. It is refreshing to know some places really want the children to grow and learn. They don't push too hard but they understand how to use a child's strength in order for them to use their potential to their fullest. I also appreciate that there is a sense of discipline.
I also watched Catherine turn three and notice that this time has gone by so fast. It is so interesting that three years flew by, just like my parents told me, yet I still remember some days and some nights just going slower than molasses. Three years ago (in January, not exactly now), I felt like I would cherish every moment of her life. And I did try to do so...but I got to admit that there are days, I felt like pulling out the 4 hairs I have left on my head. Why is it that we can feel that time can go by so fast and so slow at the same time? I have yet to ask anyone this question but please give me your take.
My take? It is all relative. I never think about how quickly they grow when I feel she is regressing...and yet her vocabulary grows daily...except when she is tired...and then only a few words occur...which brings me back to the beginning...hence finding the time going so slowly. The one thing I do never forget is that we are so lucky to have two healthy girls (give or take an ear infection/cold/stomachaches) who are thriving. We were able to get pregnant three times without any invasive or complex procedures....this makes me feel lucky. I hear too any times from people I love and respect how hard it was for them and, sometimes, an impossibility to get pregnant. This makes me feel lucky and when I struggle, I like to remind myself of how truly lucky we are.
Recently, I have been struggling with teaching Catherine to speak French. I am trying to do my best to try different strategies but it is "Too hard". True, she recognizes some colors, some words and definitely understands when I speak French. Her "S'il vous plait!" melts my heart. I will also admit that her ability to speak English makes me feel good and the fact that I am alone to speak to her in French and still tries to repeat what I say at least half the time.
I really got to learn to take the small victories...but it's hard...time goes by so fast and yet stands still when she resists...
Many things also happened, including my oldest's third birthday, as well a change from daycare to a preschool for her. We changed from a specific daycare to a preschool for a few reasons, but there is a specific one that I will not write about here. For those who know me, feel free to ask me privately. For those of you who don't, I'm sure you can use your logic to figure out why someone would change daycares. Anyway, it was time to go to a preschool and this need, as well as the other issue, made us look for a new place.
It is early, but these educators have already impressed me with their response and their willingness to help out both our oldest and our youngest, who is now in the infant room at the same location. It is refreshing to know some places really want the children to grow and learn. They don't push too hard but they understand how to use a child's strength in order for them to use their potential to their fullest. I also appreciate that there is a sense of discipline.
I also watched Catherine turn three and notice that this time has gone by so fast. It is so interesting that three years flew by, just like my parents told me, yet I still remember some days and some nights just going slower than molasses. Three years ago (in January, not exactly now), I felt like I would cherish every moment of her life. And I did try to do so...but I got to admit that there are days, I felt like pulling out the 4 hairs I have left on my head. Why is it that we can feel that time can go by so fast and so slow at the same time? I have yet to ask anyone this question but please give me your take.
My take? It is all relative. I never think about how quickly they grow when I feel she is regressing...and yet her vocabulary grows daily...except when she is tired...and then only a few words occur...which brings me back to the beginning...hence finding the time going so slowly. The one thing I do never forget is that we are so lucky to have two healthy girls (give or take an ear infection/cold/stomachaches) who are thriving. We were able to get pregnant three times without any invasive or complex procedures....this makes me feel lucky. I hear too any times from people I love and respect how hard it was for them and, sometimes, an impossibility to get pregnant. This makes me feel lucky and when I struggle, I like to remind myself of how truly lucky we are.
Recently, I have been struggling with teaching Catherine to speak French. I am trying to do my best to try different strategies but it is "Too hard". True, she recognizes some colors, some words and definitely understands when I speak French. Her "S'il vous plait!" melts my heart. I will also admit that her ability to speak English makes me feel good and the fact that I am alone to speak to her in French and still tries to repeat what I say at least half the time.
I really got to learn to take the small victories...but it's hard...time goes by so fast and yet stands still when she resists...
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