New challenges on the path

A Sunday morning sleep in, relaxing breakfast at Café du Soleil (not to be confused with Café deux Soleil), free admission to Van Dusen gardens, and a BBQ full of engaging people in a gorgeous house in Shaugnessy seemed fitting preparation for what was to come.

A late night phone call to my parents was expected to be nothing more than a quick goodnight, and I thought I wouldn't bother Dad for a change, but when my Mom asked if I wanted to speak to him, I was pleasantly surprised. After exchanging pleasantries, he asked me "So, what's this about writing?" I was taken aback, and answered "Uh..... yeah". "Uh... yeah", he replied. Turns out he was quite upset at the thought of me writing my life story in the local newspaper, and had visions of himself having to leave town, overwhelmed with the entire town knowing all about his personal life. Fortunately I was able to hear his concern, and not take it personally. Meanwhile Bonnie dumped purple juice all over her pants, and threw the carton out of the car, all the while my dad is getting more and more agitated.

After a potentially explosive situation, it was diffused by assuring him there will be no personal information shared in the paper, and that if anything by me is published, the author's name will be inconsequential. I was pissed off for him putting that on me, but it really reminded me how scared I was as a child to do the things I wanted to do. That fear of public scrutiny was an ever-present omen around our house growing up, as was putting up the appearances for a small town. There is nothing at all wrong with this; we had to survive somehow, and being socially accepted in a small farming community was a part of the puzzle.

My night was complete when Bonnie's ex came knocking on the door, 12 dozen red roses in tow and a promise of untold rewards for taking a risk; leaving me and marrying him. Her and I have had ups and downs most definitely, and whenever we seem to be doing well he jumps into the picture. He's no threat to me, it is just an awkward situation, and leaves Bonnie filled with doubts as to the validity of our relationship, no doubt further pushed with the realization of my departure in 4 months. I was filled with anxiety despite this, as a flood of emotions came over me. Would it have been appropriate to walk down the stairs, open the door, and receive the flowers myself? Should I have invited him in? Perhaps that is what anxiety is in it's base form, restraining oneself from doing that which could lead to further pain, discomfort and anxiety. If dealt with in a calm, mature way though, it could also relieve the situation.