At night before he goes to sleep (at 8, lol/sob) my dad goes around closing every possible door in this house. He is compulsive about it. It makes me so claustrophobic and i wake up in the morning and open everything up again to try to get some light and air and space into our lives.

Today I used Mother's Day as an excuse to coax him out of the house. We walked along a narrow path surrounded by wildflowers - trilliums, trout lilies, tiny wild violets. Red-winged blackbirds fluttered ostentatiously to distract us from their nests. Woodpeckers hammered in the distance. The monastery tolled the bell as we got to the kettle lake. I felt myself willing him to notice it, to take an interest. He said, "it's like Quebec", and I took it as a victory and tried to just enjoy the moment.

*

i went on a date last month. A walk, in the city. And then another and another. He came up here for a hike and I remember feeling completely nonplussed that he was willing to drive up here, 45 minutes, to see me. How low my expectations became, in those last terrible years with BT.

There has been something almost Victorian, so restrained, in talking and writing to this guy for months but being unable to meet, and then once we met, being unable to touch. I loved it, actually... My heart was so bruised, i don't think I could have gotten close to someone in any other way.

Then we got vaccinated and then two weeks went by, and ... it turns out that long slow build-up was *so hot*. It's good. It's really good. I'm cautious and I am only focused on what is now. But in the midst of a lot of tough things this connection is a wondrous thing.

*

mother's day today and I am not a wreck.

12:46 a.m. - 2021-05-06