My Mum and  I talk almost every day. She lives on the other side of the country – we are quite literally coast-to-coast – but we talk and skype, so it doesn’t feel as far most days. 

Today we gabbed and joked for well over an hour, we talked about all kinds of things, one of which was my Saturday night. I worked Saturday to make up some hours I missed this week having been home with sick kids for a couple of days, I called Ginny on my way home to see if she had dinner plans. 

“Swing by and pick me up, hon. Where to?” she asked and the two of us laughed  – like there is any other place to go in town. “What was I thinking? Jack’s it is! I get three guesses as to what you’re having, and the first two don’t count.” Sometimes I can be painfully predictable. 

We had a beer with dinner this time, no melancholy mood last night. While we were enjoying our meals and beer, she asks if I have to rush home, 

“No, not particularly. Alex will be  fine outside for a little while longer – he’s got a bed in the shed. For a giant german shepherd that looks wolfish, he’s a princess and won’t go into the dog house we build for him, but he’ll be fine.”

“Good. Let’s watch a movie – how about Shirely Valentine?”

Now I loved this movie and play – I hadn’t seen the film in a million years, possibly before I saw the one woman play in Toronto back in ‘94.   When I watched it last night, as a woman just shy of the main character’s age, it resonated with me deeply. I had been Shirely. I had been lost. I had to make some absolutely crazy, life altering choices to steer the way I wanted to live in a whole new direction, with the idea of happiness as my guide. 

So while Mum and I were talking about the film, I said to her, it’s been terribly hard, but I am not dead inside any more, and that is better. That makes it worth it – to feel like I am living.

I’m sharing these positive thoughts with her and she says, “It’s so good that everything has worked out." 

And right after she says that we both pause, realizing just how ridiculous that is, since it really hasn’t "worked out”… yet. And I start to laugh, and in between saying, catching my breath I’m laughing so hard, “Yes, this dream lifestyle is the envy of all the neighbours. Who doesn’t want to be the single 39 year old mom of four, working full time, living in the sticks with a 50K radius tether to her ex, struggling to make ends meet? I am living the dream!”

She’s laughing, I’m laughing, making more outlandish statements about the state of awesome that is my life – in a fun, tongue in cheek way.

At one point Mum mentions my optimism, “You are an optimist… but you are tempered with a realistic streak. You still think people, as a general rule, suck.”

“Yes, but it always surprises me!  And that stubborn optimistic streak shines through.”

I seem to have a kisby ring around it. Unsinkable. Despite or in spite of everything – and I am so very happy about that.