| Zero
Storm |
One
Common Drama |
Two
for One |
Three
Pivotal Years |
Four
Generations |
Five
Ring Circus |
| Subject: | Thoughts |
| Date: | Sunday, February 15, 1998 22:39:26 -0500 |
| From: | Jérôme |
| To: | Silvana |
The Nagano Games are on. With the set on in the background, even in the middle of the night, it keeps the atmosphere rather light. But mostly, it helps me from sinking repeatedly under the battering of the storms: the pain that my mother must have experienced and this other story about Catherine and what might have happened to her. The electric noise drowns out the guilt, which can swell at any moment, of having been spared from these gales for such a long time.
The list of things to do is endless. So many things to sort, process, liquidate, recycle, keep, pack... And I have yet to get a handle on the warehouse. Half a room full of boxes, right up to the ceiling. Things I knew I would have to deal with at some point. Time's up. Now this story has surfaced, and the task has become anything but casual. I must examine every thing closely.
Another flash runs through my mind as I am looking at Catherine's documents. I happen to wonder why I take so long to reach conclusions; on the other hand, one does not navigate such uncharted waters frequently. I guess all my neurons are not wired up correctly...
Imagine for just one moment what my mother must have felt inside in April 1995, when I told her that she would become a grandmother on November 12... Catherine was born on the 11th, but had she been born in France, it could have been the 12th. How could she hide the feelings? You saw the videotape. It is simply unbelievable.
Mom could not forget that date. The proof is simple; she kept reminding me of a classmate's birthday - November 11 - although she never met him.
Her closeness to Arianna now makes sense. She paid more attention to her than to Aubert. She is blond, blue-eyed and, just what Armand describes, talks a lot. Sure, one can see into things what one wants to; but these are rather hard facts.
Keep imagining. Keeping all this inside. For more than thirty years. It must be similar to the cancers that slowly ate her life away. I cannot help but wonder whether these two things are not in fact one.
More pain. This one closer to home... Catherine seems to have been definitely separated from my mother at age 9 or 10. She did something similar with me, except, in my case, she was physically closer. She sent me away to pursue my education in French. Too many clues lead me to believe she did the same with Catherine. It would be coherent; she was so biased towards things French.
I guess I was lucky. I had just been on a field trip to Quebec and loved the place. It became an option for her - one closer than France. Besides, private schools there were subsidized, so she could afford such a choice. I ended up in Montreal, but that was probably a better choice in the end.
She also thought that I was becoming difficult, entering adolescence. Whether she was right or not, I still cannot forget the crises, the beatings. She became someone else. She probably saw the deadline where she would have sent me abroad. Repeating the pattern. Not being able to leave Cambridge, because of the house and the revenues it generated, her job and mostly, to avoid re-living the difficulties of 1958-1960 (housing problems, difficulty in finding work, health problems...). All was focussed on giving the child an education to the level of her expectations. When it surfaced, the Montreal solution must have made her feel somewhat relieved.
I am drifting between all these ideas. They are not exactly joyful, but it starts making sense. I think I am starting to know who she is... was... is...
Lots of hugs
Jérôme