Some of us use the work anniversary to mark the date of the death of someone we loved. I am not fond of that either. I am more inclined to say that it was nine years ago on this date that my mother or father died.
Two years ago today, I found out that my son got married on his second day in Canada while visiting his long distance, mostly online and by telephone, girlfriend. She had visited him here for a few days before that. So all in all, they had known each other face-to-face for about four days.
I wrote a whole blog entry about this marriage. But the date on the calendar reminds me of the pain I felt. It was Thanksgiving Day here. My daughter and her boyfriend were here for the day, and I was already a little sad that my first born was not here. It was the first time that both of my kids weren't here with us on Thanksgiving. Late that afternoon, my daughter brought me her phone with a photo my son had posted on social media showing his and his girlfriend's hands and what appeared to be wedding bands. She said, "Mom! I think Tyler got married!" Nah...couldn't be true. It must be a joke. But later in the day, Jess found out that it was true - the two of them had a civil ceremony in Toronto. My son did not call her, text me, or IM me or his father before or after. I was hurt to my very core. When I get extremely hurt or angry, I shut down. I could not speak to Tyler in any form the rest of his time in Canada. I had a hard time speaking to him a while after he got home, especially since he had such a cavalier attitude about what he had done.
Fast forward a few months. Tyler and his wife drove from Louisiana to Toronto where there were going to live together in a small basement apartment. They had not done a lot of research about what it took to become a Canadian resident or to get a work permit. They had in their heads that it would take a few months - HA! But everything was great...at first. You know how that honeymoon phase is. His wife had a job and worked about eight blocks from their apartment, so Tyler would walk her to work and then go home to do laundry or clean up. Many times, he would meet her for her lunch break. He would meet her to walk her home from work.
Not only were they experiencing wedded bliss, but they spent money like there was no tomorrow. They bought furniture that they probably didn't need. They had food and groceries delivered. She made a decent salary, but not enough to support two spenders in an expensive city like Toronto.
It wasn't long before the gold began to tarnish. They started to argue all of the time. It wasn't just about money - it was everything. They found out quickly that they didn't have the money to do anything. I tried emailing him free things to do in Toronto to get them out of the apartment sometimes. I sent him many possible work from home jobs. I spent countless hours on the phone with Ty talking to him about communication.and respect. Meanwhile, the months dragged out without getting any nearer to a work permit for him.
Tyler's wife had some medical problems. If you have ever - like me - thought that the healthcare system in Canada was superior to ours in the U.S., think again! Try waiting for a month or two to see a specialist. Try having a doctor who doesn't really care if what you have is diagnosed or not. Try prescriptions that are not covered and are extremely expensive. I was proud that Ty was doing all he could to help his wife - go with her to appointments, research her symptoms, go to the drug store for her, wait on her hand and foot. But it was never enough in her eyes.
Their relationship didn't just explode - it was like the fireball version of a snowball...the faster it got, the bigger, hotter, and more ugly it got.Tyler truly wanted to make his marriage work. He agreed to go to counselling. He worked on his anger issues and communication skills. He took my advice and lowered his voice, plus tried to lose the swear words. But sometimes - especially when you are the only one trying - a broken relationship can't be fixed.
Tyler's exodus from Canada is a long, ugly story. Maybe one day, I can find the words to write it down. Let's just say that this is not a happy occasion...we will not celebrate this date...and Roy is the only one to whom I have mentioned what date today is.
May all of your anniversaries be happy ones.
