Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy (Upcoming) Solstice, and Happy Birthday Cameron Ross Hatch, age 0.
Newly welcomed to motherhood is my best friend, Alannah, who produced baby Cameron Ross on December 14th at 2:57AM. Per her usual effortless grace, Alannah did this in her own entirely extraordinary fashion. After being told it was time to induce (her family tends to carry babies too long, and though he was "early", he was a good 7lbs already and there were complicating factors to him staying inside) and beginning that procedure, she was sent home to wait for contractions. She took a nap. The hospital called -- "Mrs. Hatch, are you having contractions?" " No, but my back kind of hurts." "Those are contractions. Please come back NOW." "Okay."
So off they go to the hospital, where she remains at three centimeters for what seems like an eternity and then says you know what, I need a hot shower. So she stands in the hot shower for about 45 minutes, while her extraordinarily calm husband Kevin (who normally faints in high heat but decided it would be important to hold up through this) sprays her back with steaming water. And ta-da, to the shock of everyone on the ward, she steps out of the shower and she's suddenly ready to go! She then endures twelve minutes of heavy labour, from "push" to "it's a boy!". 12 solid minutes, people. She should write a manual.
And so there I was at Womens' Hospital, on December 15th, saying hello to my baby nephew/Godson Cameron, and thinking how amazing it is that this woman I've known since she was six years old has just brought a new life into the world and is calm, beautiful and serene about it all. I have a lifetime of memories with her. We've starred in wee productions of Wizard of Oz twice together -- first time, age 7 or so, she was a Munchkin and I was Ms. Gulch -- second time, perhaps in revenge since neither of us were happy with being cast that way in Grade 2, we took over the Drama Department by sheer force of will, transcribed the script from the movie ourselves, cast everyone by authoritarian decree (based on Heaven Knows what authority, as Grade 11 girls), and I was Dorothy to her Scarecrow. We still know all the words, frighteningly enough, though our voices are rustier now. Sad, really -- because I can really belt out Somewhere Over the Rainbow when I'm warmed up! I once planned on a life on the stage and a singing career -- few others than Alannah know that about me! We used to answer to each other's names in high school interchangeably. Although very little about the details of our appearance is truly similar on close inspection, we are often asked if we're sisters... I guess when you've been around someone that long and can finish each other's thoughts, and you both have blondish curly hair, it just feels like we're family. Which we are, in spirit. Our bond has lasted 26 years, and counting.
Now there's a whole lifetime ahead of new memories waiting to happen, with Cameron -- who seems to have inherited his parents' mildness of character. He sleeps peacefully, makes lovely little squeaky noises, he's rosy pink, and he hardly cries at all. And Auntie Melanda gets to spend First Christmas (which for years has been my mother and I joining Alannah's clan for a combined family celebration) with Baby Cameron!!!
The day after my visit with Cameron, I attended a Masquerade. The annual party of my favourite hotel of all time, the Pinnacle, was, true to tradition, its "best one ever". Kudos to the new HR team who took over after I left... and the always-stellar coordinating committee... it was a real delight for me witness things just getting better and better, rolling into the future and into new and more wonderful directions than I would ever have imagined or been able to do myself. The best part was all the hugs and hellos from people I miss so much.
The best part of the story of Masquerade night actually came before the mask was even put on... with my hair in a whopping updo and shivering in my evening dress, I stood outside my apartment at 4:30PM waiting for the cab to take me to MAC for my makeup and mask affair. It never came.... A cab pulled up across the street a few doors down, and slowly the people who had called for the cab got in. They turned around and pulled up beside me (I was hopping in agitation at this point) and the window rolled down in the dark... where are you headed? Downtown... so are we, please get in. So I did, into the front seat which was free. The cab driver said I was listed as a "no show" on the computer (though my cab had never arrived and I'd been standing in the street since the minute I called) and the woman in the back said "we saw you waiting earlier, and so we were worried when we got in our cab and you were still there." Then the unmistakeable voice of the man behind me said softly "Tara, where are we going exactly tonight?" At which point I recognized his voice and said " Mr. Suzuki, I am a member of your organization and I'd like to thank you two for all that you do." Ten minutes of chatting with two of the people whose work and ethic I most admire... what a Christmas Gift! About my MA, about Royal Roads (their new CEO at the David Suzuki Foundation is also somone newly appointed to a high position at my University), about peacework and such... and there you have it. I now "know" some of my most amazing neighbours. Who knows if it means I'll get to see them again, but a cab ride to remember nonetheless!
Well it's skiing time again! It's been years and the Snow Gods are angry with me for turning my back upon them. So it is that serendipity strikes, and two of my dearest classmates in my MA program have insisted I visit them for ski holidays! First to Nelson, BC, for New Year's, and then to Denver, CO in January. I cannot complain. Obviously 2008 is shaping up to be a year of short trips here and there. New Zealand to see family in Feb/March (with a planned stopover in Hawaii on the return trip to hike Haleakala Canyon with Dad!), then Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi and Kenya in April/May to do development work with my class and wander East Africa with friends.... But the long trip (which may or may not turn out to be a trip at all), the 6 month field work project I must do sometime between May 08 and May 09, is still up in the air, a huge question mark. Will it find me traipsing BC researching aboriginal community development tourism? Will it find me in Costa Rica working with Quakers? Will it take me to Africa or will Africa just be the shorter visit with the class and some travel around with friends for now? I don't know. I keep wanting to have a roadmap and all the answers, and Heaven knows I have bushels of enthusiasm for all these possibilities but only one body and one life, to do one thing at a time with!
Doing things in the right order, with patience, has simply never been a strong suit of mine. (Why crawl, asked Baby Melanda. None of these big people are down here on their hands and knees, so stuff that! And so she walked, at 8.5 months. Anyone vaguely familiar with the normal stages of brain development will realize that this explains much of my oddity, which is, sadly, irreversible. Nor will it come as a suprise that shortly after hauling myself up on two feet and glaring haughtily at anyone who dared to laugh at my wobbly efforts, I began speaking in mostly whole sentences.)
Thus it was that this year in May -- since I never really learn -- I gave myself all of 48 hours between leaving my home, all my structure, and the companionship of the family friends and family of my work place, and beginning university and taking the first step into this huge unknown void. I've been reeling all summer, running on fumes of enthusiasm, and just thanking my own lucky unconscious foresight that I moved back in with my mother for the year. (Seeing as she has the greatest vested interest, genetically and otherwise, in my survivial. Kind of a pitstop on the racetrack of my life, a tire and oil change...) But a Gala, fundraising, letting go of and grieving a whole chapter of my life, and suddenly I find myself ready to just sleep all Winter. So if you find me crawling on the floor and speaking only in single words soon, you'll know I'm attempting to relearn how to slow down and do things the correct way and avoid burnout. Just watch you don't trip on me, and wish me luck as you walk by, won't you?).
Stay tuned, and so will I, and perhaps by May of 2008 we'll all know where Melanda will be and what she'll be doing next! If I miss another cab on my way to the airport, maybe this time the Dalai Lama will pull up and offer me some kind of job and I'll end up in Tibet.
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