On the Border

I've never been to Stanstead, Quebec, but suspect I have some idea of what it must be like to live there. The town and its alter-ego Derby Line, Vermont, straddles the Canada-US border and, as such, poses some interesting challenges for town residents. To get into the front door of the public library, one has to pass a border pylon plunked into the sidewalk as a U.S. Border Patrol agent in a pickup looks on. A few strides through the library entrance lies the reading room, but bibliophiles have to step across a strip of electrical tape on the floor, walk out of the United States and back into Canada, where most of the books are shelved.
In the attached opera house, the performances take place in Canada, while most of the audience sits in the United States. All of this back-and-forthing no doubt causes frequent "where am I?" moments.

In many ways, I'm currently residing in a very similar space. I'm scared as hell, but also feel incredibly calm. One foot is firmly in the present while the other is drawn increasingly toward the future. I'm up for seeing a few folks from time to time but require hours of alone time. I continue to enjoy the world around me while giving over ample time for quiet reflection. Everything is strange but oh so familiar. The only other time in my life when I felt even remotely like this was while resurfacing after my full immersion baptism in Porpoise Bay some years back - nothing had changed but everything had changed.

As luck would have it, I recently heard a bit on CBC radio that might help many of my gentle readers better understand where my head is at these days - and where it has been (pardon the pun) heading for some time.

Soon after his mother was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer, Will Schwalbe quit his top publishing job and began reading ... with his mother. Together they formed The End of Your Life Book Club, it was his way to connect with her as he shared care-of-a-dying parent with his father and siblings. The bond they created and the insights they shared live on in Will Schwalbe's new book. We ask about the determination to live even while you are dying.
Download The End of Your Life Book Club: Will Schwalbe - October 15, 2012
[mp3 file: runs 00:23:06]

Two things in particular jumped out:
Will's mother kept saying how lucky she was. I totally get that.
Will's mother had a life-long habit of reading the end of a book first. I've never done that, but understand the metaphor the behaviour represents. By knowing how the story ends, his mother didn't have to focus on what was going to happen. Instead, she was able to savour the finer points of the narrative as well as the nuances of the language. He felt that was much like her attitude to her disease: she knew how her story would end so could focus her attention on living her life. Perhaps that's why I am able to continue enjoying myself despite growing medical challenges? Interesting thought.