Move it behind the wall

I would

like to

build a

wall,

between

myself and

the ideas

of

expectations, trials, doubts, bleak realities, statistics,

or more.

On my side of the wall, the active and living side

would be

hope

and life

and wants

and the

words:

Change

and

Cure

and

Heal

and

Stable

and

Fun

and

Clear

and

Health.

No doubts

there

to cloud

my view

of

what

I want.

I would

live on

my sunny

side of

the wall.

Take walks. Make plans. Drink tea. Heal well. Love. Create.

Live in possibility.

And the

stuff

behind

the wall

would go

quiet

from

neglect,

and settle

over

time.

Like

Forgotten

Objects

in the attic.

White sheets draped over top,

covering and muting,

into quietness.

No longer

needed.

And I would face the sun.

and Be Alive in the sun.

Peacefully Happy and

healed.

Suitcase Time Machine

I’m packing my suitcase for Hungary. We don’t have a ticket, and I’m still totally unsure when we are leaving – or how long we’re going for, but nevertheless, I’m packing my suitcase.

Easter Monday in the Brunelle Samson household is really all about packing. Actually, we’re finishing with the packing of this apartment. Today involved Zsolt pulling apart the living room with his old PHD papers, contracts from England, left over visa applications, books and video games and more video games.

I’ve been in the bedroom, emptying the closet and dresser of every single bit of clothing I own. One piece after another, I folded the shirts and tank tops and socks and sweater and trousers and scarves, and stacked them on my grandmother’s old sofa (for which I’d made a dark blue slip cover, and now feel sentimental about giving away).

moving

Onto the bed I opened our burnt orange suitcase. This will be my case for the entire summer of displacement and –hopefully- escape.

Hanging from the curtain rod in my bedroom are a thick collection of dresses. Summer dresses, autumn dresses, cocktail dresses, gala dresses. I take the coral baby-dress from the rod and lay it in my burnt orange suitcase. The strap is broken, and I’m hoping Zsolt’s mother won’t mind sewing it since my kit is packed away. I can picture myself by the lake Balaton, wearing this little bit of coral nothingness, and feeling just like I felt almost a decade ago when I first found that slice of Hungarian paradise. I will pack this dress, Anna will sew the strap, and it can be like old times again.

There is the wine purple Karan Millen dress that I wear to nearly ever formal occasion ever. This is not a dress anyone would need at Lake Balaton in Hungary. But I slide it into the suitcase nevertheless, in hopes that somehow we’ll be able to take the boat between England and Halifax. I wore this exact same dress on the Queen Mary while we sailed to Canada (via New York) about two years ago. We were excited for Zsolt’s new job, and thrilled with the glamour of the cruise ship. It was a highlight in a life full of wonderful moments. So maybe, if I pack the dress, we can live it again.

There is this raggedy dark blue tube top folded and resting on top of the pile of clothes for consideration (do I put it in the suitcase, or put it into the cardboard box for storage in my friend’ basement?). I concoct some possible outfit in my head, and slip it into the suitcase. Maybe if I pair it with my high-waist black skirt… maybe I can get away with wearing it again. And even better, maybe my husband will notice. This is tube top I wore one fantastic night in Nice while out at a nightclub with a group of Hungarians. I’d had some light mesh shirt over it for most of the evening, but when we ended up in a club’s crowded basement sweating and dancing like crazy, I’d headed to the ladies to cool down. Off came the mesh top, up went my hair into a high ponytail, and on went the vibrant blue headband that matched the sleeveless top. Walking out of the ladies, I passed that cute Hun I liked. He did a double take and said, ‘woah.’ . . . he liked me.

summer

So, I’m here packing my suitcase for a trip that isn’t planned, and reliving memories imprinted into my clothing. And I stopped just now to write this blog post, because I didn’t even realize what I was doing until about 10 minutes ago. I’m taking action. I’m doing something to make this all real, and to have another summer, hopefully with a few new piece thrown into the wardrobe, to make all kinds of new memories.

The suitcase is now nearly full. It’s packed for Hungary. And whenever we get there, it’s going to be a damn good time.

Easter and Expectations

Happy Easter ;) For awhile there I thought spring had finally arrived, but nope, not quite yet! The Easter bunny had to wear snow boots this morning.

So the apartment is crazy. Yeah, we are still here. At least, our stuff is still here. The official get-out-already date is April 12th. That’s when we have muscle lined up to come in and help carry boxes down the street to my friend’s basement. Muscle = my two brothers and my dad’s truck.

The funny thing about this move is that we don’t know what will happen next. Will we leave the country for vacation soon? Will we need to get an apartment before the fall? Will I be on a plane defying logic and jetlag as I fly back and forth between Montreal and Budapest (and can that be managed? Zsolt thinks it is crazy, I think it is brilliant. Except for the actual flying…flying is not fun.)

Many things are up in the air. We’ve both decide we will be hitting up Hungary this summer, it’s really the when and the ‘how long’ that are in question. My parents reckon we should simply take off and let lake Balaton feed my soul. I want to get onto this study Dr Canada had mentioned.

Speaking of which, I’ll need to call him this week to chase it up.

Day have been passing by. I breathe in and out and think ‘hey, no trouble there’ and try to image the cancer cells melting away into nothingness. It’s a blessing to be able to mostly ignore the situation…I mean, I don’t ignore it, but I try to ignore it as much as possible when I’m not doing something about it. I try to focus on other things.

Other things… yeah… my attention has been jumping between projects. One second I’m packing. Next I’m editing audio (my latest thing). Then I’m researching this article. Now I’m going out to meet a friend. Then, finally, I settle down and do actual work.

The other day I was listening to This American Life, and there was this episode about Batman. Except it was more bat man… and they guy wasn’t a bat at all. The show shared a story of a fellow who lost his sight as a young boy. But now, as a grown man… well, he says he can see. He says, he grew up seeing the world through clicks – like bats use sound to see. And he has done this for so long, that now he can actually see things, shapes of sorts, even thought he literally has no eyes. When in an MRI, he mind lights up just like yours or mine would when being told to watch a passing object.

INCREDIBLE. Listen here.

The point being: He has defied general expectation simply because he never agreed with it in the first place. He’s taught himself to see again. This to me is remarkable. His beliefs and consequent actions made something happen that was never thought possible.

No time to finish that thought! It’s off for a family meal in Kanata.

Happy Easter!!!