My Screech

This is my Bridget.

The G. Screech. Gigi. Screechface. Dolly. Babygirl. She has many nicknames and has a dimension to her personality to match each name.

She is a delightful mix of 'tomboy' and 'girly-girl'. In the picture here, she has padded her clothing and is being a sumo wrestler. She is a tiny, wee thing, but make no mistake, this girl is formidible.

Ever since I was a teenager, I was convinced that I would have three boys. I just knew it. So when I found out that I was pregnant for the third time after having two boys, I knew for certain that the next one would be a boy too. My pregnacy with Gigi was completely different. With the boys I felt great. With Gigi I was sick and psychotic. I kid you not. Ask my sister. In spite of this, I was till convinced that I was carrying a boy child and when I finally had her and the doctor said "It's a girl!!" all I could muster was "It's a WHAT??"

I was terrified to have a daughter. Sons? They were easy. But a girl? I had no idea what to do. I was scared that I wouldn't be a good mom to a daughter..... but when they put her in my arms, I was in love. Immediately. She was pink and yummy and I adored her instantly. Bridget was such an easy baby and thank god for that. Connor (the psycho toddler) was 4 and Jack was 2 so I had my hands full already. She rarely cried and was just so content, especially when her brothers would talk to her.

There has always been a certain level of reciprocity in my relationship with Bridget. I remember when she was only 2, I was really sick and on the couch wanting to die. Connor and Jack were running around like maniacs ("I'm hungry, Mom.... Mom, I'm thirsty. Mom, can you put a movie on for me? Mom? Mom?!!!") while Bridget was pulling my blanket up to my chin and kissing me on the head. That's when I truly realized just how different having a daughter was going to be.

I love sharing the 'girly' moments with Bridget. I love braiding her hair in the morning before school. I love asking her if my outfit looks all right before I leave for work. I love talking to her about things that the boys in the house don't care about. We're like co-conspirators here on the farm. Momma and The G against the world.....

Bridget is ridiculously organized. If I can't find something, I know all I have to do is ask and she'll know where it is. She is smart and funny and kind and I love being her Mommy. When I imagine the future with G, I can picture us as women; as friends. I imagine sharing with her all of the things that I missed out on by losing my Mom so early in life.

Bridget is a Pelchat woman in the making, make no mistake. Feisty, strong, full of laughter. Her third name is Gabrielle (after Aunty Gay) and she's proving to live up to the moniker. Having Bridget was like receiving an amazing gift that I didn't even know I wanted. Lucky me.

Book Club Bitches

Holy Dinah.

A few months ago, I was asked to be part of a book club in town. I have always wanted to be in a book club so I was pretty excited about it. The club was to be a group of 12 women who love to read.... 12 of us because the number is pretty manageable and also because that way, we can each have a turn to pick one book a year for the group to read.

Sounds pretty civilized, no?

R-i-i-i-g-h-t.

The first time we met, we all brought a book or two that we were hoping to choose for our month. I brought 'Lamb' by Christopher Moore, a hilarious book that invents a new gospel in the bible. Since there is nothing about Jesus from the age of 12 - 33, Mr. Moore thought that perhaps the gap should be filled. 'Lamb' is the gospel according to Biff, Christ's childhood pal. I absolutely love this book.

I wasn't sure if 'Lamb' was the type of book that the group would be into, so I also brought along 'The Vagina Monologues'. (Book club chicks like feminist literature, right?!) I really like this book as well... I like anything in this life that can evoke emotion in me and this book made me laugh and cry (actually, believe it or not, 'Lamb' did both as well).

Soooo.... when I presented my two options, one of the girls shouted out "Jesus and Vagina's??!! You are SUCH a lapsed Catholic, Susan!!"

"Oooohhh", I thought to myself. "I'm a-gonna like this group o' gals."

Since that night, I have learned more about all 11 of these ladies and I really, really like them. There is plenty of interesting conversation, and a lot of laughter as well. (Wine too. Let's not forget the wine.) Tonight was a little less cerebral than usual, but man, did we laugh. By the end of the evening, we had plotted a road trip in D's motorhome with the theme "Book Club Bitches Gone Bad". We're not kidding.

Smart, funny women.
Yummy food.
Good reading.
Wine.

It just doesn't get much better than that.

Sick Boyo

Oy.
1:16 a.m.
I have a very sick boy on my hands tonight.

Amazing how a 15 year old young man still calls me 'Mamma' when he's unwell.
He won't be mine for much longer.... less than 3 years and he will be on his own, taking on the world. It's a privilege and an honour to be his Mamma and I delight in caring for him tonight.

And as I sit here, watching over him while I type to you, it makes me cry to think of the short amount time I have left with him. I am grateful for him, for his health, for his energy, his kind nature, his gentle spirit....but it went so fast. It's gone far too fast.

When he was just wee and I was up in the night with him when he was sick, it was just another night in a million (or what felt like it) that I would be up with him. Now, I know that time is short. This could be the last night I have this opportunity... to Mother him in this way and it hurts my heart.

I just poured a glass of water for him and rubbed his hair while he sipped it.
I told him to take his time and he said "You're such a good Mommy".
I bit my lip so that I wouldn't cry.
I said that I would sit with him for a bit longer until he fell back to sleep in case he needed anything.
He said "I really appreciate it, Ma."

I'm a lucky, lucky Mommy.
And I know it.

We be bloggin'

I have to tell you that I just love blogging.

(Ok, in my mind I'm hearing Mybarb saying "Hmmm..... you'd think you would do it more OFTEN if you like it so much. She thinks I should blog daily.) This medium of expression is so good for my soul. When I start to write, I get into a zone and there is a flow that I can't explain. It feels right. It feels like there is nothing else in the world, not a worry, not a care. Just me and the words that are pouring from my fingers, onto the keyboard and to your eyes.

I have had some wonderful feedback to this blog and I'm really grateful for it. It probably shouldn't please me so much, but it does. The most common response I hear is that my personality really comes through in my writing and that delights me. Although I'm a very outgoing person, I'm truly an introvert (being outgoing and extroverted are two very different things) and I tend to hold my cards close to my chest in that regard. Writing feels like a release for me.... anyone who knows me clearly understands that there are certain topics that are off limits for me. My Mom and the pain of watching her disease process is one of them, but on my blog, it was easy to express. It felt so good to write about her on New Year's Day. I'm not sure if I ever would have spoken those words to anyone but writing them was effortless.

I've spent the past year striving for authenticity. I've tried really hard to live true to myself, not contorting my actions and thoughts to suit people's expectations of me. It's been remarkably healing and deeply painful. There are people who are no longer a part of my life because of it, however the genie is out of the bottle and there is no going back.... thank God. (Or the Goddess, whichever rings your bell). This blog has been instrumental in that journey and I want to thank everyone who reads it.... I appreciate your interest and your encouraging words.

Enough of that. I promise the next post will be a LOT more fun and lighthearted. Did I ever tell you about the time the murderer stored dynamite in my barn?

I'm just sayin'.

Pam. Pamma. Pamalicious.

This is my Pam.

Where do I begin telling you about Pam?
I first met her at the Veterinary Clinic where she works and I liked her right away. She has an incredibly upbeat, friendly vibe and just immediately makes you smile and feel like everything is going to be ok. The first time I met her, I thought to myself "Ooooh.... I could be friends with this chick." My intuition was bang on and lucky for me, I can now call her 'friend'.

When my friend Caroline died, her hubby Didace was heartbroken but he knew that his great big heart had much more love to give. Enter Pam. It happened quickly for them and anyone who knows Didace well feels certain that Caroline had a hand in making this happen for him. Caroline and Didace's kids have welcomed Pam with open arms into their Dad's life and I have no doubt that it's because they see how happy he is with her. Didace is a complete fucking nut and Pam loves that about him. I also pay her well to stick it out. Feeding him every night was just getting too expensive.

Tonight I went over to Pam's place for a visit. I realized just what a truly amazing friend she is when I paused to think about what I was wearing.

• Pink pajama bottoms
• Blue hoody
• Orange sweater over the hoody
• Jean jacket
• Sorrel boots
• No socks
• No bra (Too much information. I know, I know)

Tell me.... how many places can you show up looking like that and feel completely comfortable and at home? Honestly! Not only that, but I arrived with a bottle of wine tucked under my arm that Pam gave me a few weeks ago. It was a special vintage with the uber-classy name "Bitch". How do you not love a girlfriend who brings you a red wine called 'Bitch'??

Once Pam and Didace started dating, she and I clicked immediately. This was very important since I knew that with Didace being a big part of my life, anyone who he chose to spend time with would be too. (As you can tell, it's all about me). It took no time at all for me to give my huge stamp of approval to this new lady in his world.

In the relatively short time that we've been friends, Pam has been someone to laugh with as well as a shoulder to lean on. She has a huge heart and is rock solid. Didace is a lucky, lucky man and he knows it.

And...... once again, I am lucky and I know it. I have the most amazing girlie friends and I'm so, so, SO happy to have Pam as part of that looney crew.

Purring in Salmon Arm

Ok, ok. I'm sure you're all sick of hearing about my time in Salmon Arm.... but I'm going to blog about it anyway. Y'all know how much I love it here with Mybarb. Just for future reference, THIS Barb is now called Mybarb. I have to differentiate because I have another wonderful friend named Barb who is now referred to as 'Copbarb', just to avoid confusion. I would love to blog about Copbarb but she would be mortified. So I won't. For now. (Mwah ha ha ha ha....).

So. This weekend is Mybarb's birthday. Barb loves her birthday. You know how some people are modest and prefer their birthday to go unnoticed? That is definitely not Barb. Right now, her status on Facebook says:

"Barb wants to remind everyone you only have 3 more shopping days til my BIRTHDAY!!!"

How could I not come help her celebrate? I'm mean really... I'm here for her, not for my own selfish reasons. Honestly.

In case you aren't completely aware of the reasons I love being in Salmon Arm with Barb, let me just tell you what the past 16 hours have been like for me.

• When I arrived, Barb had a baguette with roasted garlic and warmed brie waiting for me.
• I'm still in bed. It's 11:05 a.m.
• There is a coffee with Bailey's in it on my bedside table.
• I have laughed more in the past 16 hours than I have in the past 2 weeks

Barb and I don't buy Birthday/Christmas gifts for one another... we choose to give small, meaningful gifts throughout the year instead. But this year, I found something that just happened to be perfect and coincided with her birthday. It's the picture that you see at the top of this blog and the quote inside the frame says:

"Friendship is not a big thing.... it's a million little things."

And that's us. There have been a million little things over the past 20 years (God, has it really been that long??!!!) that have cemented this friendship and I'm grateful everyday of my life for it. The picture in the frame was taken at the end of an evening where we attended a girl party with the theme "Embrace Your Inner Whore". Yes, I'm wearing a wig. And, yes. We are both wearing false eyelashes. And really yes. We are rather drunk.

Happy, Happy Birthday Barb. I have no doubt that everyone will make you feel special on your big day, not because you're 'all that and a bag of chips'.... but because you demand it and they fear you. Love you!

Ouch. Missing my Mamma.

January 1, 2009.

This year I had a quiet New Years Eve at home and really enjoyed the solitude. But, today is a tough one.

Today is the 3rd anniversary of my Mom's death and the first anniversary of my Sweet Caroline's death. Somehow I knew that Caroline was going to pass away the same day as Mom. Just knew it in my bones.

I've been wanting to write a blog about my Mom and today seems like a good day for it. The picture above is from when I was 15. We're sitting on the front step at 'home' and I can still remember how it felt to have my arms around her. Sorry for the crappy quality... I took a photo of this picture with my cell phone so the quality is lousy, but the love is still palpable.

My Mom was amazing.

I know, I know. Everyone's Mom is amazing.... but my Mom was such a Mom. She absolutely loved being a Mom and was so good at it. She read to us and found such creative ways to make all four of her children feel like they were the center of the universe. She was gentle and sweet.... you know the Mamma Kangaroo in Winnie-the-Poo (Kanga)? She reminded me of my Mom. The picture above is of my Mom with my brother Darryl. Do you see how much she loves her baby?!! Everytime my Dad took a picture, the flash made Darryl's eyes cross and Mom just loved it. (Isn't she pretty?!) I actually submitted this picture to The Globe and Mail for a Mother's Day edition and they posted it.

My Mom taught me so much, but the greatest gift she gave me was teaching ME how to be a Mom. Nothing is more important to me than being a good Mom to my brats and nurturing them has come naturally because of her legacy.

As I mentioned before in my "Aunt Gay" post, my Mom came from a big, wonderful French family. She was the baby of eleven kids and they teased that she arrived "once the bread was buttered", after the depression.

My Mom loved to laugh and did so often. She loved food and wine and every single one of my boyfriends fell in love with her. While growing up, our house was a place where everyone was welcome and my friends loved to be there.

My Mom was diagnosed with MS before I was even born. I don't remember her being healthy, really. I always wondered why she couldn't run and somehow it just seemed normal that she needed to rest every afternoon. By the time I was a teenager, she was using a walker and a wheelchair. By the time I left home, things deteriorated even further. I remember feeling a lot of anger about her disease. How could someone as sweet and kind as her end up with such a horrible fucking disease? How? In what world is that just or fair?

Mom was very, very practical. I remember learning about reincarnation in my early 20's and I really liked the concept. It made sense. I talked to Mom about it and I told her "You know, Mom.... maybe you and Dad have been together in a life before this. Maybe in this life, he needed to learn some lessons about being unselfish and having to care for another person. Maybe you chose this disease to help him discover that within himself." Mom took a second to think about it then said "I'd like to think I would have found another way." Touche Mamma.

I miss her today. I miss her so much but I wouldn't wish her back. At the end of her life, she was tube fed, catherterized and I could barely understand what she was saying. She lived in that state for the last 3 or 4 years of her life. She was so, so tired when she finally left us yet I never once heard her complain. This is not an exaggeration. Never once.

"How are you doing, Mom?"

The answer was always, ALWAYS "Great!" with a big smile. Even when this woman could not scratch her own nose if it was itchy, she would tell me that she was 'Great!'.

My Mom was so loved. She lived long enough to meet all of her grandchildren. She had so much in this life and I know she was grateful for all of it, but man.... I just really, really miss her.

To the right is a picture of Mom with my niece, Megan that was taken about 10 years ago; as you can clearly see, Mom delighted in being a Grandma. In this picture, Mom is in her wheelchair and the grandkids always loved sitting with Grandma in her chair. When Connor was 3 and Mom started having a lot of trouble with coordination in her hands, he would sit on her knee and feed her oranges. She loved oranges.... and he actually called her 'Grandma of the Oranges'. I have that on video.

I wish she was here right now so that I could ask her for advice. I wish I could hug her and smell her. I would give anything to hear her laugh again. Yes, I'm grateful that I was given such an amazing Mom, don't be me wrong. But I'm greedy. I want her back, healthy and laughing and playing with her grandkids. I want to shop with her and drink wine together and benefit from her practical wisdom. But.... that's not possible, so I will do my best to keep her memory alive and honour her legacy of love by passing it along.

Love you, Mom.

~~~~~~~~~

Marie Delvina Lillian Pelchat Barth (aka 'Lily')

August 10, 1940 - January 1, 2006

~~~~~~~~

Fun du la Fun a la Fun

In spite of my Scrooge-ish-ness, I had a lot of fun this Christmas and it was uber relaxing. Yay! Who knew it could be this way?! My brothers both arrived a few days before Christmas and since they are both teachers, they were really, really, really (did I mention 'really'?) ready for the break. If you don't think that teachers deserve the time off that they receive, then my guess is that you don't know many teachers. They earn it. They need it. But, I digress.

Brother Glen brought his gorgeous, talented, funny, smart daughter Raelee with him and his feisty, cute, funky, delightful daughter Morgan stayed home with her Mamma. Bridget was in 'girl heaven' having Rae around and Raelee doted on my Gigi like the sweet big cousin that she is. (Bridget is to the left with her two favourite things in the world: Raelee and a telephone.)

Brother Dare arrived with his dog, Eclipse and there was plenty of barking, drool and general "dog happiness" between 'Clipse and Doc. We feasted and drank and feasted and drank and pretty much left the children to their own devices during the days leading up to Christmas. It was just such a treat to relax and enjoy each other's company. On Christmas Eve we were visited by 2 sexy, tipsy elves. The menfolk were pleased with this turn of events and the elves woke Jack up on the couch. I'm pretty sure Jack still thinks he was dreaming!

Christmas morning was pretty wonderful. The kids tore into their gifts and were pleased with all that Santa brought. Connor was horrified at having to wake up at 8:30 (but was pacified after unwrapping the video game that he wanted - see photo to the left!); Jack was horrified at having to wait until 8:30 to wake us all up, especially since he'd been awake since 3:00 a.m. (No, that is not a typo). The rest of the day was spent with more laughing, eating and relaxation. Seeso arrived in the early afternoon with her husband, Corey, daughter Dani and son, Aydan. I was so, so, SO happy to see her. Chick time with my Seeso was the icing on my Christmas cake.

Dinner was set for 15 people and Karen and I had a lot of fun cooking it AND eating it with our guests. Little Dougie Robinson (a.k.a. LDR) and my dear friend Shori (with her lovely beau, Tuscon) arrived just in time to eat. Shori chose to bring a bottle of Balvenie instead of contributing to the meal. (I luvs ya, Shori!) Friends, family, children, laughter, scotch. *sigh* Happy.

However, we all know that a gathering at Suzeville wouldn't be complete without.... DANCING! Oh, and did we dance. We moved the kitchen table aside to create a dance floor, turned up the music and off we went. I had the absolute pleasure of dancing the two-step with my brother Glen (Thanks, Glennie! Love you to bits....) as well as performing a very classy interpretive dance to Perez Hilton's 'The Clap'. I am grateful beyond words for the lack of available video equipment while that was happening, let me tell you.

To the right, there are two pictures of my friends and loved ones. In the top picture, Seeso, Dani, Ted and Jesper are shakin' their collective thang. In the bottom picture, they are demonstrating their ferocious model poses and I have to say that Ted wins the prize for that category. God knows he gets enough practice..... perhaps? (But Ted!!! Where are your pantalonies??)

This was an AMAZING Christmas. Traditional? Not so much.

Does it need to be? I think not.

Friends, family, food, laughter.

Sounds like the start to a pretty good tradition to me.

Happy New Year!

Ho Ho Ho....

Now, I like Christmas. Christmas Day, that is.

I love lighting the fireplace and watching the kids tear into their gifts.... I REALLY love cooking the turkey and smelling it throughout the house all day long. I love a house full of family and friends, combined with plenty of laughter and relaxation.

I'm not crazy about the commercial bombardment that happens beforehand. I don't like Christmas music. (Bah, humbug.) I don't like the stress that accompanies family obligation or being nervous about spending a ton of money in a small space of time.

This year, my beloved sibs are coming for the holidays. I can't believe that I have a chance to see them again so soon after the BSW 2.0. (If you don't know what BSW 2.0 means, check back in the archives of my blog!) This means that there will be EXTRA laughter on Christmas Day which always makes me happy. Speaking of laughter, my friend sent me a great email about how Santa really wants to respond to the letters he receives from children. You know me by now. You know that if I'm laughing, it is likely inappropriate or politically incorrect, or both. This email is certainly 'both' and I just have to share it with y'all. Brace yourselves.

If Santa Answered His Mail Honestly.....

Deer Santa,
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur fer Xmas. I'v ben a gud boy
all yeer.
Yer Friend, Billy
Dear Billy,
Nice spelling. You're on your way to a career in lawncare. How about I send you a book so you can learn to read and spell? I'm giving your older brother the space ranger. At least HE can spell.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is peace and joy in the world for everybody!
Love, Sarah
Dear Sarah,
Your parents smoked pot when they had you, didn't they?
Santa

Dear Santa,
I don't know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I'd like for my mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can do.
Love, Teddy
Dear Teddy,
Look, your dad's banging the babysitter like a screen door in a hurricane. Do you think he's gonna give that up to come back to your frigid mom, who rides his ass constantly? It's time to give up that dream. Let me send you some Legos instead.
Santa
(Editorial note: Me, screaming with laughter. '....banging the babysitter like a screen door in a hurricane.'?? I'll be using this in the future. I'm just sayin'.)

Dear Santa,
I want a new bike, a Playstation 2, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a drum kit, a pony and a tuba.
Love, Francis
Dear Francis,
Who names their kid "Francis" nowadays? I bet you're gay. I'll set you up with a Barbie.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots for your reindeer outside the back door.
Love, Susan
Dear Susan,
Milk gives me the shits and carrots make the deer fart in my face when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Leave me a bottle of Scotch.
Santa
(Editorial note: A coincidence that the one involving Scotch was sent by 'Susan'? I think not.)

Dear Santa,
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy making toys?
Your friend, Thomas
Dear Thomas,
All the toys are made in China . I have a condo in Vegas where I spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind by drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail waitresses while losing money at the craps table. Hey, you wanted to know.
Santa

Dear Santa,
Do you see us when we're sleeping, do you really know when we're awake, like in the song?
Love, Jessica
Dear Jessica,
Are you really that gullible? Good luck in whatever you do. I'm skipping your house.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I really want a puppy this year. Please, please, please, PLEASE,
PLEASE could I have one?
Love, Timmy
Dear Timmy,
That whiney begging shit may work with your folks, but that crap doesn't work with me. You're getting a sweater again.
Santa

Dearest Santa,
We don't have a chimney in our house. How do you get into our home?
Love, Marky
Dear Mark,
First stop callling yourself "Marky", that's why you're getting your ass whipped at school. Second, you don't live in a house, you live in a low-rent apartment complex. Third, I get inside your pad just like the boogeyman does, through your bedroom window.
Sweet dreams,
Santa

So, in spite of my semi-scroogish nature, I do wish everyone a wonderful Christmas. I hope it's filled with laughter and love. I really mean that. If you're in my neck of the woods, please drop by for a cup o' Christmas cheer (a.k.a. 'booze') along with an inappropriate laugh or two.

Gay Pelchat a.k.a. 'The Infamous Aunt Gay'

In one of my recent posts, I talked about my Aunt Gay and I mentioned that I would post a future blog post about her. Well, here it is, as promised. You won't be disappointed. Anyone who knows me well has heard of "Aunty Gay". In the Pelchat Clan (my mother's side), she is a legend.

Aunty Gay is my Mom's sister. There were 11 kids in their family and all of them are/were amazing, fun-loving, smart, spirited people. There were 6 girls and 5 boys and they grew up during the depression on a farm in Saskatchewan. I remember being very small and watching with wide eyes while my Mom and her 5 sisters sat in the livingroom, laughing, talking and drinking wine. (There was always wine.... the French blood made wine an essential part of any gathering!) There was never a shortage of fun when the sisters gathered and I remember my Father staying clear of the livingroom when they visited. I think they scared him a little. To this day, whenever Pelchat women gather (and there are many of us), wine, hugs and laughter are essential. Aunt Gay has been instrumental in demanding that this tradition continue.

Aunty Gay was a feminist before the phrase was coined. She has told me that growing up on the farm made is so that gender was irrelevant to a certain degree. If work needed to be done, you simply did it. My Grandfather helped to bake bread. My Grandmother helped in the fields. During her life, I don't think that it ever occured to Aunty Gay that there was anything she couldn't do. What an empowering gift to give your daughter, especially during those times. Aunt Gay was a teacher for many years before she chose an administrative career with the school system. I always viewed her as being so very strong and capable and she was an amazing role model for me while I was growing up. I have no doubt that a large part of my rather feisty nature is because I had her to look up to in life.

I have learned SO much from Aunty Gay. I remember talking to her about 'recycling' over 20 years ago, feeling very smug and clever about the topic. She said, "Recycling? You think you invented recycling? Your generation invented garbage, not recycling." She then went on to tell me about how her Mom would sew underwear for her children out of used flour bags. If the bedsheets were wearing too thin in the center, they were cut down the middle, and then flipped and sown up again so that the thin part was now on the outside. Paper was burned. When clothing wore out beyond use, rugs were made out of the rags. They composted, gardened, and canned. Aunt Gay is still incredibly resourceful and practical.... I learn something new everytime I'm with her.

Almost every fabulous book I've read and every amazing new drink I've consumed ("Susan! Scotch and Ginger Beer with lemon!!!) was introduced to me by Aunt Gay. Aunt Gay turned 80 last May and people are stunned when I tell them how old she is. The picture above is of her at her 80th birthday celebration this past summer -- she's sitting with my brother Glen, also known as 'Aunty Gay's Favourite'. I'm just sayin'. The black and white is of Aunty Gay and my Mom. Aunty Gay is the one reading, my Mom is the kooky one with the pillow on her head. Am I a combination of these two women, or what???

I have no doubt that the reason my Aunty looks so young is a direct result of how active she is (she goes to the gym in the winter and golfs almost everyday in the summer), but I must admit that I secretly believe that it's because she never married :-))

Aunty Gay was my Mom's best friend as well as her sister. She was always there for her, no matter what Mom needed. Before Mom died, Aunty Gay was there on a regular basis to do exercises with her... to read to her and laugh with her. I would love my Aunty no matter what, but the closeness she shared with my Mom makes me love her ZILLA. When my siblings and I went to have a memorial tattoo done in honour of my Mom, Aunt Gay was right in there with us. She was 78 at the time and Charlie (our tattoo artist) declared her to be his most 'mature' client. When we walked into his shop, Charlie had a power metal station playing on his satellite radio. Aunt Gay looked at him, then calmly looked up at the speaker where the music was coming from. She looked at Charlie again and raised one eyebrow. Charlie quietly walked over and changed the station.


I absolutely adore my Aunt Gay. She is about 5'1", but her presence is formidible, make no mistake. She is the Matriarch of our clan and she is revered and loved by us all. Next time you pour a glass of wine, take a moment to quietly think of all of the amazing women who have influenced your life. I know I can't take a sip without thinking of my Aunty Gay and the amazing Pelchat women who influenced mine.