Category Archives: Love

Beyond the Sea: Our summer and our secrets

Posted in Canada, Finding Home, Life, Love, Travel, Uncategorized by

A little over a year ago, Zsolt and I arrived in Canada. It was a big deal. He immigrated, and we transferred all our items over to Canadian soil. Part of me knew living here would be a challenge, but honestly I thought that we’d gotten through the hard stuff already – and this (Canada, with my family) was simply going to work.

So it did, in a way, and it didn’t in others. Truth of the matter was it was an emotionally difficult year simply because we had a sense of failure – failure to make this grand home-coming as happy and life-changing as we’d hoped. We lived with my parents (and are still here, thanks to the patience of my Mom and Dad, though will be moving out come October) for just short of one year while Zsolt looked for work. When you’re 30 and married, really, living at home feels less than cool. With Zsolt not getting hired anywhere and our not progressing as I’d hoped (though my freelance writing started doing very well, and I’m so thankful for that! It was a bright spot) . . . it felt more and more like we were trudging through thickening, sticky molasses and were never going to move forward.

Of course, optimism is built into my DNA. And I would tell Zsolt in the evenings as we lay in bed and held our nightly conference of concerns: “It’s all going to work out. It always works out . . . eventually.”

Then one day while at a friend’s daughter’s birthday party, it was suggested that Zsolt look into a different field than research or academia; maybe he’d be a good fit for patents?

Patents: the reserving of rights for intellectual property . . . highly complex and technical ideas that need someone who can dissect concepts, research prior art and understand a novel design before writing these ideas up in legalize to be submitted for patent approval.

Hmm.

Yeah, Zsolt would be good at that. He’s a freaking Google wizard, and he’s also a research science with an advanced degree. Maybe, just maybe, for once, having a PhD wouldn’t be to his detriment.

OKAY! All this is leading somewhere. I just had to share it because this was happening for ages, and I could never directly write about it. It felt like crap holding back that struggle to find employment. But anyhow, I am going somewhere with all this. Hang with me . . .

He started applying to about 70 plus intellectual agency offices. AND – BAM – he caught a fish! Just one, but one is enough. He began acting as a consultant for an agency, and at one point they were even discussing hiring him on full time. An offer was about to be made for work to start in September.

So, back in June, we were so freaking excited about this that we went crazy. Literally, we went crazy. We booked a summer-long trip to Hungary, with a stop-over in Southampton to visit friends, followed by a boat cruise in the Queen Mary 2 to New York, where we’d hang with my cousin and then come up to Montreal by train to catch a bus that night back to Ottawa.

i.e. BIG TRIP.

Before you can say “maybeyoushouldsignacontractfirst” we had bought non-refundable boat tickets, train tickets, bus tickets and a one-way flight to Vienna (just beside Budapest). It was all ‘happy happy joy joy’ plus a bucket-load of relief.

And then one day Zsolt comes along and says to me: “I have bad news.”

“How bad is it?”

“Bad.”

“How bad?”

“Come read this email.”

The job opportunity had fallen through. Oh my god, how freaking crushing.

“Oh shit. That’s bad.”

Now, nothing thus far, and hopefully nothing in the future will ever be as bad as hearing the words “It’s cancerous.” Okay? But nevertheless, after a year of hoping, thinking you can see the light, and then spending money on a grand trip, it was deeply disappointing. But we went on our trip anyhow.

And so we went to Hungary – saw Zsolt’s wonderful family, ate amazing food (including possibly unwise amounts of pistachio gelato), visited with friends, laughed a lot . . . swam, sunbathed, rode trains. But all along that realization was in the back of our minds: “you’re starting from scratch when you return back to Ottawa.” We had developed a plan to move out no matter what, with my freelance stuff and some part-time jobs. I could work; the plan was a little bit comforting. A little bit.

And then we went to England: meet with friends for Mexican Food, had a picnic in a backyard, saw beautiful  babies, slept in an attic, walked in the New Forest, chilled at Tragos . . . boarded the Queen Mary.

And then we sailed across the Atlantic. This was super cool. Okay, so I flew first class once between continents, and that was really nice. But this is a class unto itself. Beds made 2x a day with chocolates on the pillows (none of which we ate – I don’t know why); formal dining every evening; buffet with 24/7 access to tea and strawberries; big band playing in the evening as couples swirl around on the dance floor (we danced once to Beyond the Sea, which was our first dance at our wedding, but I’m such a garbage formal dancer that I couldn’t bring myself to dance any more. It was fun to watch, too.); a view of the ocean from our bedroom balcony that stretched out forever; dolphins in big groups swimming in from the distance then diving under the boat; whales flipping onto their backs; sunbathing on the upper deck and hot-tubbing at the back of the boat. Listen, if you’ve ever considered travelling between North America and England, and you’ve got at least a week to spare – this is the way to go.  Apart from one rough day, the weather was great and we had so much fun. It was totally restful, and I got loads of writing done too.

And then New York. Lord, that’s one big city. I think the highlight was two-fold: hanging out with my cousin, and meeting Anne Marie (of Chemobrain) for a cup of tea and some conversation. You can keep all your big buildings, impressive architecture and bridges for someone else; I like meeting people and spending a little time connecting. People are the best. Meeting Anne Marie in person was like seeing her in full-spectrum colour all of a sudden. Online friendships are great, but nothing beats the real-world exchanges.

And then back to Canada on the 12 hour train ride. Back to Ottawa. Back to . . . .

Oh wait, I forgot to tell you: Half way through the summer, toward the end of our time in Hungary, Zsolt was offered a job full time. Full time! And in the patent field, too. AMAZINGNESS! MIRACLES! Somehow, through the astounded state of shock, Zsolt gave an immediate ‘yes’ to the offer.

SO! Back to Ottawa. Back to . . .

. . . first day of work! Writing patents! Looking for apartments! Recovering old sofas so they get a new life! Shopping the ‘as is’ Ikea section for furniture! Putting down a rental deposit on a beautiful apartment! Getting involved in an awesome photography project! Taking a French test for a library position! Getting honoured by the CCTFA Foundation! And much more to come.

We’re doing things right this time around, and it only took a year to figure this out.

Whew. Big sigh of relief.

Stay tuned for coming adventures. (And in the meanwhile, I’m off to Pakenham for some more ice cream!!)

Postcard from Southampton

Posted in Finding Home, Life, Love, Travel by

(This post was meant to be up about a week ago – but instead of adding it as a post, I added it as a page. Here you go – now in the correct blog location! P.S. We are in New York now, having speant a week abroad and I’m about to meet with AnneMarie from Chemobrain! Good times and good travels.)

Excitement Alert!

I should be working –that’s why I’m here at TRAGO (WOOOOHOOO!!!) this morning, but before diving into the job, I thought it’d be great to celebrate with you that I’m here in Southampton, Portswood, Trago Lounge (best cafe ever) enjoying my micro visit immensely.

It’s so funny. Six years ago I can still remember arriving in Southampton (my first time in England) and getting off the bus, looking at the industrial town and thinking, “damn it.” Ugly was the adjective on my mind. And yet here I am for a visit six years later, revelling in every bit of cafe, street sign, familiar litter, charity shop, tea house, that strikes my eye. Particularly this cafe. This is Trago, which if you’ve read earlier parts of my blog, you know is like a slice of paradise on earth.

After my mastectomy, my mother and I came here for a pot of dark tea. After nights out with friends, we came here to wind down the night. After a burst of inspiration, I came here to write it up and share. After making plans, my girlfriends and I would gather here for a long and quenching chat.

Plus, even though it’s not yet 10 am, I’m also enjoying a chocolate gluten-free muffin.

It can be hard to spread oneself all over the place – leave bits of your life here and there. (Saying good-bye to Zsolt’s parents was a little heart-wrenching. Honestly, where’s the teleportation devices? Shouldn’t someone have invited a method for instant long-distance travel already?) But on the bright side . . .it’s good to have places that bring so much joy, even if we can be there – or with the people who live there – all the time. They are maintained in our hearts, and it’s so very good to visit in person.

Tomorrow we take the boat from Southampton to New York. Zsolt is visiting the Titanic museum today – but I took a pass, despite it supposedly being totally awesome, since – you know . . . I don’t need those associations at this moment.

Anyhow. Hello From Southampton!

That was one long postcard note. But who cares :) It’s good to have good moments. I hope you are having one yourself today.

Catherine

P.S. Babies are everyone! We leave this city, and upon returning everyone has given birth! It’s quite amazing.

P.P.S. Going to meet a group of friends today – we had planned for a picnic, but this is England, so it may rain. Nevertheless, I could 100% mark this in my calender as a very fantastic day. I’m totally stoked to see everyone again. :)

A Home Blessing

Posted in Life, Love by

Yesterday afternoon we paid a visit to Zsolt’s grandmother. Her name is Anna, and she lives in a house all alone with a garden so large you could get lost amongst the apple trees, tomato bushes, strawberry plants, raspberries, grapes and climbing vines. Near the front of the garden (close to her many potted cactuses) are a few fruit trees – white peaches, yellow peaches, plums, and pears. My favourite are the peaches; they’re nearly as large as your head. (Well I exaggerate slightly, but they are huge.)

So yesterday afternoon we visited Anna, Zsolt’s grandmother, to eat some peaches and discuss the family tree. (Zsolt is hard at work on his family tree, and occasionally he and his grandmother get together and conspire over names, dates and locations.) The conversation rolled from one thing to another – all in Hungarian, so I kept myself busy eating a giant peach, peeling off the skin with a 70 year old paring knife Anna had saved, and dropping peach slices occasionally onto my dress, onto the floor, and onto the table cloth (probably also ancient – Anna keeps everything, and in perfect condition too. I do not have this talent, as we’ve already established.)

Well the conversation was rolling, and moved to the topic of needlework. Along with their paprika and lace, Hungarians are known for beautiful bright coloured needlework. Anna, back when her eyesight was better, was a master with the needle. She has numerous beautiful pillows that she made herself with the thread and needle. (And in fact, she’d just picked up a pillow case from the market for me which she gave to me while I was eating my giant peach. Woohoo!)

But even more special than the pillow case and flowers, has got to be the home blessing. This is a ‘poem’ or just a special thought that people keep in their home to bless it, and will pass along generation to generation. Zsolt mentioned to his grandmother how one day he’d like to put a home blessing in wherever we end up living – and guess what? Well, I am sure you can guess. She gave him a very special home blessing. This isn’t one she sewed herself, it’s from a generation prior –made  by the second wife of Zsolt’s Great Grandfather’s. Unlike the pillow cases, this doesn’t highlight any flowers. Instead it’s very simple.

White cloth with blue thread. There are two angles stitched into the cloth, and between them they hold a banner. It reads as follows:

Házi áldas  

Hol hit ott Szeretet

Hol szeretet ott béké

Hol Beke ott áldás

Hol áldás ott isten

Hol listen ott szükség nincsen.

Which translates into

Home Blessing

Where belief there is love,

Where love there is peace,

Where peace there is blessing,

Where blessing there is God,

Where God there is nothing else needed.

Is that wonderful, or what? I think so very much, and it’s made even more special to realize this blessing has been in several generations of the Mucsi family homes, now to be in ours. We’ll hang it in a place of honour for sure.

And I was thinking, now that we have a home blessing (good signs of soon finding a HOME), maybe I should write myself a health blessing as well. Something like,

Where Peace there is Health

Where Health there is Gratitude

Where Gratitude there is Love

Where Love there is God

Where God, nothing else is needed.

I’m not always 100% chatty about my feelings on God, but I do believe in the amazingness of life, of the remarkable miracle of our existence, of a big ‘something’ out there that holds us together (it gives me comfort when I remember that earth is not much more than a speck of dust floating through space),

And you know what else? I believe in staying healthy, happy and cancer-free. In fact, it’s my personal motto.

Do you have a home blessing? What about a health blessing? What would you write in yours, if you decided to go ahead and bless yourself with a few simple words?

Anyhow. That’s my story of Anna, the garden, her needle work and this beautiful home blessing.

(By the by, I do think there is love in a home even when health is missing, and even peace too – peace within yourself, peace with the world, with others, etc. I have nothing but the fondest of memories from my own grandmother’s final days – and look back at that time with thanks for being able to share those moments with her in the Tromblant forest. But nevertheless, I’m a great fan of Health and would very much like to stay healthy for a long life-time of peaceful, grateful, love-filled moments.)