I'm looking for my red cell phone. really I hardly see why I need one.I make so few calls.I wouldn't object to having a phone,it's just the damn plan that goes with it.I get a reasonable amount of minutes for about thirty five dollars a month, but I'm always left holding onto minutes at the end of the month.If they could be rolled over into the next month,I wouldn't feel like I was wasting my money when what's left of them disappeared at month's end.So my solution was to buy a pay as you go phone for about fifty dollars at Seven Eleven. I still use phone booths to save my minutes sometimes, but there are not so many around anymore.
My phone got kicked under the bed sometime during the night, but I find it and start dialing the office,looking for a trailer to unload tomorrow.It's light now and I look out over the expanse to the east.Maybe I'll try to go for a visit later this year.It's been too damn long. I could afford it maybe, if I'm frugal.Maybe I'll take the train. I reach the office and immediately get put on hold.
It was about two years and a few months ago that my parents decided to visit me here in Calgary.I had my concerns at the time, with my father not being well, but my mother assured me that it would be alright. they would come out on the train.that sounded like a long trip, but she assured me they would book a sleeping berth and my father could spend the time resting.
My mother told me the name of hotel that they had planned to stay in, I didn't want them staying in a hotel, but my suite was not wheelchair accessible. The day of their arrival turned out to be a Monday,and after work I stopped by home,gathered up my guitar and headed on downtown.Along the way I stopped at a phone booth and phoned their hotel, thinking that they would most likely already be there,as the train was scheduled to arrive much earlier. I was informed by the desk clerk that they had not arrived, and that the reservation had been cancelled.
This change in plans seemed a bit disturbing to me as I'd heard nothing about it.I called Moncton, but got no answer.Still,I was certain something was afoot, and that most likely it was not good.My parents had not arrived as expected, and I thought that most likely meant that my father had gotten sick somewhere along the way.Perhaps he'd had another stroke, so at this point I became quite worried.I should be able to reach someone at home anytime of the day if they'd gotten back, so I assumed that they were at a hospital somewhere.But it could be at almost any hospital along the route from Moncton to Calgary.Since there was no answer at home,I ran over to the library to check email.
At the library I discovered that my parents had indeed had to turn back.My father had not had a stroke, as I had feared, but rather had experienced some sort of break with reality, during which he became paranoid and afraid that staff on the train was a danger to him.So when they got to Toronto, my mother took him to a doctor,who finally got him stabilized with medication so that they could return to Moncton on a plane.It must have been very stressful for my mother being on that plane, given what had happened, and the climate involved in plane travel at the time.Still the flight is only about two hours, and they managed to get home safely.
By the next morning I managed to track my mother down.She had been at the hospital when I'd called the night before, but I managed to reach her on my way to work in the morning.She explained that my father was in the hospital, but would most likely be released in a day or two.Still, the doctors couldn't really say for certain what was wrong.It could have been another small stroke, or the break could have been caused by an accumulation of brain damage from all the previous strokes,plus the routine stress of long travel.In any event,they'd managed to get his situation stabilized and were monitoring him.
In any event, that was the end of their planned vacation, and ultimately their last trip out west ended up being the one they made in 1990.Still,my mother made a lot of car trips around home,running after my sisters kids.That would take her as far away as Woodstock, which was really not that bad of a trip anymore,she said.There was a new highway and it took a little less than three hours. So she settled into the life of a grandmother who was very involved in the lives of her grandchildren, and the primary caregiver of her disabled husband.I marveled at her dedication and devotion, but worried that she might be getting tired.
My phone got kicked under the bed sometime during the night, but I find it and start dialing the office,looking for a trailer to unload tomorrow.It's light now and I look out over the expanse to the east.Maybe I'll try to go for a visit later this year.It's been too damn long. I could afford it maybe, if I'm frugal.Maybe I'll take the train. I reach the office and immediately get put on hold.
It was about two years and a few months ago that my parents decided to visit me here in Calgary.I had my concerns at the time, with my father not being well, but my mother assured me that it would be alright. they would come out on the train.that sounded like a long trip, but she assured me they would book a sleeping berth and my father could spend the time resting.
My mother told me the name of hotel that they had planned to stay in, I didn't want them staying in a hotel, but my suite was not wheelchair accessible. The day of their arrival turned out to be a Monday,and after work I stopped by home,gathered up my guitar and headed on downtown.Along the way I stopped at a phone booth and phoned their hotel, thinking that they would most likely already be there,as the train was scheduled to arrive much earlier. I was informed by the desk clerk that they had not arrived, and that the reservation had been cancelled.
This change in plans seemed a bit disturbing to me as I'd heard nothing about it.I called Moncton, but got no answer.Still,I was certain something was afoot, and that most likely it was not good.My parents had not arrived as expected, and I thought that most likely meant that my father had gotten sick somewhere along the way.Perhaps he'd had another stroke, so at this point I became quite worried.I should be able to reach someone at home anytime of the day if they'd gotten back, so I assumed that they were at a hospital somewhere.But it could be at almost any hospital along the route from Moncton to Calgary.Since there was no answer at home,I ran over to the library to check email.
At the library I discovered that my parents had indeed had to turn back.My father had not had a stroke, as I had feared, but rather had experienced some sort of break with reality, during which he became paranoid and afraid that staff on the train was a danger to him.So when they got to Toronto, my mother took him to a doctor,who finally got him stabilized with medication so that they could return to Moncton on a plane.It must have been very stressful for my mother being on that plane, given what had happened, and the climate involved in plane travel at the time.Still the flight is only about two hours, and they managed to get home safely.
By the next morning I managed to track my mother down.She had been at the hospital when I'd called the night before, but I managed to reach her on my way to work in the morning.She explained that my father was in the hospital, but would most likely be released in a day or two.Still, the doctors couldn't really say for certain what was wrong.It could have been another small stroke, or the break could have been caused by an accumulation of brain damage from all the previous strokes,plus the routine stress of long travel.In any event,they'd managed to get his situation stabilized and were monitoring him.
In any event, that was the end of their planned vacation, and ultimately their last trip out west ended up being the one they made in 1990.Still,my mother made a lot of car trips around home,running after my sisters kids.That would take her as far away as Woodstock, which was really not that bad of a trip anymore,she said.There was a new highway and it took a little less than three hours. So she settled into the life of a grandmother who was very involved in the lives of her grandchildren, and the primary caregiver of her disabled husband.I marveled at her dedication and devotion, but worried that she might be getting tired.
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