Summer Part 2 of Who Knows...

Once P arrived, all the tensions, worries and anxieties pretty much vanished instantly. I felt a wave of security and warmth come over me.

That night my dad was busy with his tournament, so we decided to grab dinner with my step-mother. This woman has been in my life basically since I was 3 years old. I've never had anything but good feelings towards her. This night though, I realized I didn't even really know her! I had never spent more than half an hour really being with her and talking. I had never gotten to know her as a person. Tonight I did and it was great.

We slept at the family's cottage by the ocean, with the stale house kind of smell, but somehow it was perfect. 

The next day we putted around because of a hard rain storm. We went to Sackville and visited around the area to give P a real sense of Acadia-land. We visited my grandmother's house in Cap-Pelé which has recently been somewhat gutted since she passed away. My grampa was looking great and the house was actually livable, even cute! I loved how he had old pictures of himself when he was 18 on the wall. the house was suddenly less about my (pack rat) grandmother, and more about my stay-out-of-the-spotlight-despite-all-his-accomplishments grampa. He is kind of amazing.

Then we made a curry for dinner -- the first dinner I have ever cooked for my family.

We visited with my mother's mother and then we headed back to my moms place in the backwoods. The sky was huge and full of stars and P was very excited about it. The next day was spent playing with the dogs, the kite and general lazyness.

It was surprisingly relaxing. I was afraid of what P would think of my step-dad, after all the stories he has heard of him. My step-dad was even a little bit more reserved than usual initially, but after a while he realized that P wasn't judging him, and he opened up a little bit, showed P his camera collection and other fun stuff.

I think that is one of P's best qualities, he's always willing to give people a chance. I actually appreciated this more than if he would have banded with me and my past hurt feelings. Because really, I'm gradually letting go of those feelings, and having him bond with me because of them might have been a step in the opposite direction of growth. (Even though I realize that growing is ebb and flow).

In the morning we left for Moncton after a few awkward family photos. I liked how P insisted on taking some. We spent the day with friends in Moncton and had a great old time.

The next day we headed to Hopewell Rocks -- which were more beautiful than I remembered. Hit the road and stopped in Alma for food and St-John for sleep. We hit the border the next day and reached Acadia National Park in the late afternoon.

This lack-of-planning (which I insisted on) was actually really good because it allowed us the flexibility of figuring out when to stop. Ultimately, we struck a perfect balance of planning and no planning for both of us, and my anxieties about it melted almost instantly that day.

Getting to Acadia was perfect. Setup the site, get some food, eat it, go to bed. Wake up early, make food, prepare a lunch, go hiking. The hike was good but once we got to the top of Cadillac mountain I was feeling really sick. We chilled for a bit then headed down. We had planned to do multiple mountains, but after that one, we decided tea and popovers at Jordan's pond would be better.

I was wearing a long purple maxy skirt that day and people kept staring at me -- like staring, I'm not kidding. It was really strange. I guess purple is foreign in Maine.

More to come later....

Summer Part 1 of we'll see

*** I wrote this a few weeks ago with the intention of just pumping it out and publishing it. Suddenly I became really busy, and this story has been left incomplete as many other things have happened. I will finish the series in due course. You'll just have to come back and see. : )

This was one of the craziest summer's of my whole life. Working, interning, trying to have a normal life, trying to relax, trying to figure out if this is the kind of life I want. The answer to that question is: i'm really not sure anymore. Something is pushing me towards a slower pace. I've realized that I can't really function with too much going on in my life. Or, I don't really want to function with too many things going on in my life. It feels like I have this habit now of saying "let me check my schedule and get back to you" when friends ask me to hang out. I don't want to make a lot of money, I just want to enjoy life, and my friends, have time to make meals, not be rushed all the time.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. After this crazy rushed summer, all I was looking forward to was these two weeks of blissful relaxation -- and then the planning started. P comes from a family whose definition of vacation is basically 'do something with every free moment you have', which in some cases is totally great and fine. I come from a family that a) never really took vacations but b) when we did, it was more of a day-by-day kind of thing. Negotiating between planning every day of our ten day trip got me incredibly stressed and panicked before I left. On top of that, I realized my passport was expired 3 days before I was supposed to leave.

Those days were probably the most stressful days of my whole summer.

I left Montreal praying that I would get home and find peace. Usually when I go home there are a few days of activity at the beginning and then it seriously dies down, which i am more than happy about. I can basically spend hours on the couch without saying a word. Bliss. The first day was fine. The second day we went to a small town for my haircut, and shortly after I started feeling strange, head-achey, a little bit irritable, with a sore throat. Went home, went to bed early and woke up the next day feeling worse. We went back to this small town for an errand and I felt it was bad enough to want to see a doctor. We get to the hospital -- no medicare card, I forgot it at the house. Either we pay a 500$ fee (that gets reimbursed) or wait until the next day. We get some stuff from the pharmacy and call it a day.

It was such a strange illness. A sore throat and persistent dry cough (that would end up lasting for about a month). Appearing out of nowhere.

This means the first 3 days I was home were active, sicky, and generally, with me feeling like crap, still worried about what P will think when he comes down for the first time. Because if you're ever been to the Maritimes, you'll know it's pretty boring.

On the saturday, I asked my mom to drive me to my dad's place (1h30 away) to meet P who will arrive sometime around supper time. We get in the car and I am practically fuming from my frustration. What frustration? Who caused this frustration? At the time, I did not know. I just felt it boiling in me. I don't know if it was because I felt like my vacation was out of my hands with all the activities around me, I don't know if it was being sick, I don't know if it was just plain old negativity, or what. We're driving in the car and I'm seriously questioning making a scene. Instead, I cry a little bit under my sunglasses and feel better.

Once we get to my dad's place, I feel instantly better, which is weird, because that's not a feeling I commonly associate with my dad. Usually my mom is my greatest source of comfort. And to be honest, there was nothing that had happened during the time that I spent with her that was frustrating or irritating or anything in particular.. so it was weird to feel this relief.

As soon as I arrive I'm greeted with hugs and welcomes. We sit down outside on the Adirondack chairs and finally I mellow out a just a tiny bit more.

When I was really young my dad played baseball. We would go to his games, cheer him on from our seats and generally have a great time. I don't remember the last time we went to see him play, but it turns out that he has started playing again recently. That weekend he was participating in a tournament and we went to see him play that evening. It was so much fun! The baseball field is all of 5 minutes away from the house, people are cooking burgers and hot dogs, the sun is setting, it was really nice. I was sitting with my stepmother and half brother, who last year, really rubbed me the wrong way. As I sat down with my water bottle next to me, the bottle got knocked by his foot. He immediately apologized and placed it upright. This shocked me. I thought, oh my god, he's acting like a decent person. I know this sounds harsh -- but you'd be surprised how this 12 year old sent me into a frenzy last year. This moment calmed me a little bit more. I knew that I wouldn't have to worry too much about being around him.

P called a few times to get clearer directions (cause when you're in the boonies, even a gps can't save you!) and our tones were always a little curt, he gets stressed when he's unsure where he's going and I had some residual frustration from the previous days. 

More soon...