August 28, 2004, in the morning my grandfather in Fort Benton, Montana was carrying down the A/C unit by himself. He noticed that there was a huge water leak in the basement. He took out his vacuum cleaner and started to clean up. He electrocuted himself. My aunt and next door neighbours found him. My aunt was in a panic and called my sister. My sister must have thought about this long and hard and called me. My sister is a full time teacher who has built up a career for herself. She has an intern. She has a son. She has responsibilities around the house in Regina. My brother needs to finish his degree. He's two classes away from graduating. He doesn't want that interrupted. He doesn't want to drag that any farther then it's supposed to. So it falls onto me. It's not a comfortable position to be in, but I'm the only one who's built up enough time and resources to be an emergency contact. Seven weeks of time built up.

That includes the two week Christmas block that I want to spend with my family in Fort Benton and Regina.

That also includes one week in Guelph to see a dear friend. I'm sorry if I'm sounding selfish, but I want to salvage the week in Guelph. It's meant for me to be away from everyone and everything, take some time to myself and get reacquainted with K. So help me, I'm going to save that one week.

All of my selfish intentions aside, I do not want to be pulled into Fort Benton to live there, to be Grandpa's servant. I want to try to talk grandpa into having a live-in RN or moving into assisted living. But I feel strongly that he's got pride. He doesn't want to leave the house that he literally built. But he's still family. He's still part of where I am today. Really. If it wasn't for him I wouldn't be here in South Carolina, living in a one bedroom apartment working at the Medical University working on a nation-wide study about autism.

So here is where dreams come in. My sister had two dreams about mom. My brother had a dream about my dad. I have this dream about my dad. My sister told me about her two dreams about mom. In one dream, we were up on a balcony, she was conducting. Mom told her that she was doing a terrific job and that she was proud of her. My sister felt pretty good upon awaking from the dream. In the other dream, we were back in the house in Yorkton. Everything looked the same except the tub was moved into their bedroom. It was a half a tub (Think: Alice in Wonderland). My sister asked my mom if the tub would spill, my mom told her not to worry. According to my sister, like magic, the water stayed inside this half a tub. What are these dreams trying to tell us? We were talking about that and somehow our conversation went like this: We have pretty much been living our own lives. Would mom and dad want us to drop everything, stop whatever it is we're doing, give up on our dreams, quit our jobs, give up on everyone just so that we could go back and be Grandpa's house servant? Of course not.

Does that sound rude? Yes it does.

My sister, god bless her, has carried the burden of being the first born and as a result, responsible for EVERYTHING that has been going on.

So now the torch has been passed on to me.

I'm going to help out Grandpa, should the need arise.

But now I'm faced with a problem that deals with my selfish intentions. My trip to Guelph is on the line. I know what's going to happen. I'm going to start lying about how many days I have off. This is a family responsibility...but then I rewind a few paragraphs ago about my own life, desires, and dreams. I want this time off, I need this time off. I haven't seen K in years. Family responsibility. John time. Family. John. Them. Me. Us. I.

So forgive me if this message sounds a lot like me pacing back and forth muttering "What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?" because that's exactly what I'm doing. Later this afternoon, I'm going to give my grandpa's neighbours a call to let them know that I, and not my sister, would be the contact emergency person. Later tonight, I shall resign myself to my fate.

I'm going to try everything that I can to save that one week that I promised to myself and then argue to myself if I got my priorities in order.

Cue the Flintstones, the ham and Swiss cheese sandwich and the stucco that just fell from my ceiling and make a mental note to call the landlord.

5:16pm August 28, 2004 - I'm the world's worst liar. I couldn't bring myself to tell them that I had six weeks or leave time. I said that I have four weeks of sick leave that I could use and I'm hesitant to use my three weeks vacation time, but it's there to use if needed. My stubborn, selfish side refuses to give up that one week. It's an internal battle. It's good that I'm there to help out my grandpa, but, I argue, I need time to myself, too. So buck up, I say, you can do this.

2:18am August 29, 2004 - Hurricane Gaston is bearing down on Charleston. It's a category 1 storm. It's bad, but it's not that bad. I will help out. I'm not worried about money. I'm not going to budge on my week in Guelph. No matter what grandpa says, that's my time. I need that to myself. The landlord told me that the stucco work is subcontracted to the painters, who won't be available until Monday. I hate infomercials. I'm going to sleep, now.