Despite my cancer, despite my mom’s passing, despite Angela’s mood and health swings, and despite my serious drinking problem, we arrived home from Cabo as a loving married couple; we had a beautiful new home near the university and settled into blissful routine.
I can honestly say I loved her deeply at the time and these first five years of marriage were some of the happiest of my life. I eventually recovered sufficiently from my cancer that I could return to sports, first rugby before eventually taking over a soccer team as player and coach. Angela was recruited back to her first love working in the retail industry as a Regional Supervisor with Le Chateau, and I had a good run on the railroad holding jobs close to home. Between the two of us we had a huge circle of young fun friends and every weekend our house would host big dinner parties and all night game nights; and we could easily spend hours alone together laughing at our private inside jokes.
Julyfest 2001
The dark side to all this was obvious to both of us but we couldn’t face the truth.
We had discovered a peaceful way to coexist, a tacit agreement that we would ignore the elephants in the room and instead stick to pleasant idle chit chat. Serious issues were never discussed and for as long as we would live in PG this worked for us but the problems were grave and festering.
We would argue about money and how unhappy she would get at how I ran the house. She would never take part in any way but instead chose to remain detached and absolved of all blame. This allowed her to snipe and complain when it suited her, and it gave her mom a handy wedge between us when she felt like torturing us.
We would argue about my drinking, and I would laugh it off and tell her she was overreacting. But on the worst days I could be cruel and vicious towards her, letting the pent up frustrations and the vodka get the worst of me and lashing out at her late at night if she tried to confront me.
We had built a relationship with no coping skills and it was inevitable that the first sign of stress would send us reeling, but we had some momentum and as far as we could tell the future was bright.
It was a grey morning in early spring 2002 and I was in bed after working the night shift when I woke to a ringing phone. It was Angela, so excited I could barely understand her…”I’ve been offered the Edmonton Region! We can move “home”!! Can you believe it??”
This exact moment would be the catastrophic fault line that would mark the end of everything…
Bonnet Hill Rovers 2001
Spontaneous roadside game, Columbia Ice-fields Highway 2001
"Something's Always Wrong" Toad the Wet Sprocket
Another day I call and never speak And you would say nothing's changed at all And I can't feel much hope for anything If I won't be there to catch you if you fall
Again It seems we meet In the spaces In between We always say It won't be long But something's always wrong
Another game of putting things aside As if we'll come back to them some time A brace of hope a pride of innocence And you would say something has gone wrong
Again It seems we meet In the spaces In between We always say It won't be long But something's always wrong
[1]"Again we fail to meet and mend The spaces safe between intents We say too much and long been gone,Oh but something's always wrong."
[2]"Again we fail to make amends And wend our way between intents And looking back, not moving on Oh but something's always wrong."
[3]"Again we fail to meet and mend The spaces safe between intents We say too much, too long been gone Oh but something's always wrong.
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