You know when you thought something was something, but it wasn’t that thing at all?  Like a date for example.  You thought it was November 6th, 2001 and find out years later it was November 6th, 2000.  Well, that’s me.  My brothers death was in 2000, not 2001 as I thought.  When my mom said it loud, I even had to look back in my papers to make sure.  At least it wasn’t my age, that would’ve been embarrassing.

So this year makes it eighteen  years.  Eighteen years since he’s not been with us. The interesting part, is my year counting was correct.  I posted last year and I said year seventeen.  I must’ve subconsciously wiped out the the rest of 2000 and most of 2001 to come to the conclusion I did.  Or I stored the date and anniversary in two separate parts of my brain and they don’t talk.

It didn’t really dawn on me, what I was called to do, until Stephen died. I had always wanted to be a teacher.  I was dissatisfied and dissapointed with my teachers and the way they taught and expected everyone to learn. Or, because I went to school in a rough area, a lot of teachers were jaded and acted as they didn’t care.  Not towards me, but towards others.  Or just oblivious and had made the wrong career choice.  I remember reading a report card recently from my grade 6 teacher.  “Marjorie is a wonderful addition to the class.  She’s smart and always tries her hardest.  She skips a number of days of school and this affects her grade.  Even though she does all the work required.”  Under that was a message from the principal. “Pauline Richards Marjorie’s mom comes into the school once a week to discuss the bulling that she encounters from other students.  She has said Marjorie doesn’t want to be here.”  See what I mean, connect the dots.

I wanted to teach the way kids learnt.  I wanted to go against the grain. I wanted to advocate for people with uniqness and differences when it came to learning.  I wanted to spread what I had learned from  my brother, my mother and my teachers mistakes.  I had finally decided to pull up my boot straps.  People had given me chances to learn the way I needed to and I was going to work hard.  I was headed to University.  I had no idea how, but I was.  Then, one quick swoop, and he was gone.

My plans took a turn.  I did nothing for a while.  After I dropped out of school, I literally did nothing.  I sat around a lot for about a year (only supporting a long time friend).  Speaking to a friend one day(about ten months later), she said I should pick up hours and provide respite.   She introduced me to Max and he changed my world.  He shook me up and continues to this day.

That’s how I based the time line, off meeting Max.  He must’ve shook me up so much, I forgot about the sadness of that passed year before I met him. He had a huge role to fill and so did I for him. We were set in who we were and nobody was going to change that.  He reminded people in a more gentle way than I did. I remember telling him I was going to be a teacher.  He laughed and then grimaced, which meant “no.” I asked him why and it came down to that he thought I was going to leave him.  I said i would always be his friend.  I called him a Prince and he acknowledged that I was a Queen.

Every year, my brothers death still gets me.  It empties my feelings for the day, makes me very boring and blah.  I laugh, but quickly go back to frowning, my head is a maze that I don’t want out of and it feels like I’m outside of my body, watching myself.  Every year though, it makes me thankful for people like Max.  Who knew and gave me me what I needed, exactly when I needed it.  Forgetfulness is my fault.







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