Two Funerals and a Lottery Win

Last Friday I worked the 3 to 11pm shift. About 10pm I got 2 messages on my Blackberry. One was a text from my husband, which was not that unusual, but saying that my Dad had called, which was kind of unusual on a weekday evening. The other was a voicemail message from my Dad.

At 10pm on a weekday, I knew immediately that something was up.

When I was relieved for my washroom break, I called my husband first. He passed on my Dad's message, which was twofold.

First, he told me, my Dad's cousin Coral had passed away. Coral had been 72. She was also married to my Mom's cousin Gus, so we were related to her on both sides of the family. I knew she had not been well for sometime. I learned today that she had passed away from cancer.

While this was very, very sad and I certainly felt a great deal of sympathy for the family and particularly her daughter who is only a couple of years older than I and a childhood playmate, I knew he wouldn't call just for that.

"And also", he said, "your aunt was killed in a car accident tonight."

"What? Oh my God! Which one?" I shouted. Meaning, which aunt, as I have a large Dutch/Belgian family and have several aunts on each side.

I was standing outside in the smoking area, and thankfully, no one else was out there.

"Rita."

"No! Oh my God! What happened? How?"

He went on to pass on the little information he'd been given. She had been on her way to work in the early evening (6:30pm, I later learned) and had been t-boned by a pick-up truck that had run a stop sign.

No. Not Rita. She had always been in my life. Part of my extended family. Always there at family functions. I would not say that we were particularly close, but when I think of family she is one of the people that I consider to be in "my circle" if you know what I mean.

All day long I've been reliving childhood memories that include my Aunt Rita. I just can't believe she's gone, that I will never hear her distinctive, high-pitched voice again. I can't believe that the last time I saw her, last November at our annual women's gathering for that side of the family, is that last time I will ever get to see or speak to her.

She lived for her family, for her many, many grandchildren, and I can't begin to imagine the depth of their grief today.

She was also very special to my other set of cousins. Rita and her sister Bernice were married to my Mother's two brothers, Gus and Lenny. Two sisters married two brothers. And I always felt that their two sets of 5 children, my 10 cousins, shared a special bond to which me and my siblings would always be outsiders. I am sure that Gus and Bernice's family are grieving today, almost as much as Lenny and Rita's own family.

Saturday I felt the need to be near my own family and my husband and I took the 45 minute drive out to my parents small town home. We talked about Rita and about Coral and the events of the week. It was good to talk to other people who had known her. While my husband had met her briefly at various family functions, he did not really know her as I had.

Rita is only the second of my aunt/uncles' generation to have passed away in my family. The other was my Uncle Ron, my Dad's brother, who had died of a brain tumour back in the 70's, leaving his wife and 3 children behind.

I guess at age 42, it's probably kind of unusual that, besides all 4 grandparents, there haven't been more family deaths til this point. I guess we've been blessed. It doesn't really feel like it at the moment, but I need to find some kind of blessing in this.

My aunt's funeral was actually quite beautiful. It was a full Catholic funeral mass complete with Holy Communion and was exactly what Rita would have wanted and deserved, as she was a devout and faithful Catholic, all of her life. Even after several years of not attending Mass, the responses and actions came to me as if I'd been doing them every week.

The gathering with the family I felt was very cathartic and I was simply amazed at the strength of my female cousins. There are 3 sons and 2 daughters and it was evident that Rita's daughters, like she herself would have, had taken charge of the situation. I pray that they can find solace and peace in the coming weeks and months.

My Mother informed me that the weekend wasn't all bad news however. My Dad's sister Angie had won $100,000 in the lottery this week! It is always nice to hear when this happens to someone who truly needs and deserves it. She is retired but was finding it very difficult to make ends meet. She had been a school bus driver for a couple of years after retiring, but recently had to quit to find a higher paying job in a factory. I know that this money will really help her and her 3 sons and their families.

Two deaths in one day and a lottery win in the same week. It's been one bizzaro week! I guess it's a good example of the cycle of life's ups and downs. Life and death. Hope and sorrow.

I'm still trying to process it all.

Stay safe out there.

Outcast AKA Being True to Myself

I am used to being unpopular amongst a certain demographic. 

Namely, conservative, white, heterosexual middle-aged/old males. 

And that's okay.  I understand about white, male, heterosexual privilege, and even that I fit into 2 of these 3 categories.  I understand that a woman who is progressive in the human rights, labour activist movement, while employed in the automotive industry which is populated mainly by, you guessed it, white, middle-aged/older, heterosexual males, often makes for a atmosphere of animosity.

And yet, there are still many people in my workplace, in my industry, in the labour/activist movement who are on the same page as me.  I have friends and allies.  Lots of them.

I thought though, that I also had a core group of friends in my personal life.  Women  whom I've known for well over a decade, for far longer than I've been involved in the labour/activist movement, from when I was a corporate career girl.  Women that transcended those divides.

I was wrong.

My job has long hours.  The company I work for is extremely successful and as a result, we are obligated to work 48 hours a week.  So yes, we work Saturdays probably more than two thirds of the year.  I often have to say no to social invitations.  And if I don't have to say no due to working, it's often due to being so tired I cannot contemplate leaving the house.

After a couple of years of this pattern, I was no longer being invited to nearly as many social gatherings with my friends.  I understood and accepted this as the natural evolution of our friendship.  And I was okay with it.  Not happy, but okay.

Until yesterday.

One of my friends, Candy, moved to a big city about year ago and made mention of coming back home for the weekend on Facebook, as she regularly does.

Another friend, Mary, with whom I am much closer than the rest of the girls (we stood up for each other in our respective weddings)  texted me and asked me if I'd heard about the spa weekend.  I hadn't.

She proceeded to tell me that she had had a conversation with Candy after asking her why she was coming home for the weekend.  Candy seemed surprised that Mary didn't know about the spa weekend, and was even more surprised when Mary revealed that she hadn't been invited. 

Candy proceeded to tell her that our friends were probably concerned that if they invited Mary, that she would bring me with her.  And they didn't want to see me.

Oh. Ouch.

Why didn't they want to see me?  Well, as it turns out, my group of girlfriends are friends with two women who happen to be married to two men who work where I work.  Two, middle-aged, white, heterosexual males.  Yeah.  You get the picture.

I am no particular fan of these men or their wives, and clearly the feeling is mutual.  In fact, one of these "men" actually tore down my election posters last fall when I ran for and consequently won, a fairly prestigious union position. 

The majority of employees at my workplace have been there since the company opened 25 years ago.  There was not another significant hiring until 2005, when I was hired along with about 600 others.  There have been a couple of hundred people hired since then in 2009/2010.

In the election I ran against a fellow who had had some training in the job.  A middle-aged, white, heterosexual married man.  Most of the people who supported my competition were, you guessed it, white, older/middle-aged, heterosexual men with 25 years of seniority, who saw me as jumping the queue and taking away a position from someone who had "paid his dues" and "put in his time" and "deserved" a chance to get a nice cushy office job with the union, regardless of the fact that I was clearly the most qualified candidate. 

Luckily, the majority of the union members (I received a third more votes than my competitor) recognized this. I think another factor in my favour, voiced by several people, including many white, middle-aged, heterosexual men, wanted to see the "old boys club" in our union ended.  They saw voting me in as a way to begin this process. 

So, the two men who are married to the friends of my friends did not like me.  As a consequence, their wives did not like me.  Other life events happened.  I got married, had nieces and nephews, moved closer to my work and was working 48-54 hours a week.  I did not have the same amount of time to hang out with my friends, we grew apart.  We still got together once or twice a year.  I was okay with this, thinking it was just a natural progression.

Until yesterday.  To actually hear that my company is not wanted because the opinions of my political opposition has infiltrated my circle of friends was disconcerting, disappointing and utterly hurtful.  I am hurt.  I am angry.  I immediately Facebook "unfriended" at least three of the worst offenders.  Not all of them.  But I will likely never see any of those women in the same light again.

Yes, I know, it's time to move on and let go of the past and realize who is important in my present.  It's time to understand that some friends are best left in the past and that the memories of yesterday are nicer than the realities of today.

But I am still hurt.  And quite frankly, still pissed off!

But I'll be okay.  Changed.  But okay.