All Our Yesterdays

A few years ago, there was an article highlighting that as adults, we have already spent more than 99% of our allotted time with family and (old) friends. With work, moving, and other life events that put physical distance between us, we might only see them during Holidays. For me, this was an obvious if usually ignored realization. The corollary was that this was even more true with "strangers". In the city, you will pass by hundreds of people every day, perhaps a few minutes longer if on the subway or streetcar, and then never see them again. This led to a short period in which I felt a mild sadness as I strolled through Toronto streets, did chores, visited a shop, or attended a show.

In the end, that was simply a fun, self-indulgent exercise. With my grandma's terminal diagnosis, the reality was more stark. She has had a long life so I'm not really sad. But 3 years ago, I would have bet that she would reach the century mark. During my visits every other week, I was struck with the fact that our remaining time together was now measured in hours.

Though having potentially a few decades left between us (fate willing), my time with friends were similarly shortened since we rarely saw each other. This despite being back in the same hometown going on 4 years now. So when we met up in June for some noodles at Yun Shang, I silently did my tally: 9 months, 15 months, and 16 months ago. Though some things stayed the same (complaining about work), others were more dramatic (the oldest kids were heading off to university). One noticeable passage of time were more grey and lines for everyone.

On Saturday, I met up with another friend (it has been a "mere" 5 months) at Dosa King for lunch. Being on Holland, the restaurant was conveniently located near a light-rail station. I was surprised they had never had dosas but it made sense in retrospect. 25 years ago when they lived in Toronto, Indian food was limited to mainstream fare like butter chicken. Other regional dishes did not appear until the late 2000s, long after they had moved back to Ottawa. And dosa did not arrive here until recently.

She missed the June dinner due to a busy family life and gum graft surgery. I was sympathetic since I've also had the same procedure. We commiserated over the "perfidy" of dentists and I gave my rant about their competence. In her case, she delayed the operation by 6 months until she talked to her mother, a retired dentist, because she thought it was an "upsell".

We also continued our discussion about my financial naivety. Though my family knew about the company take-over, I finally revealed the value of my windfall to another person. But it wasn't just about cash and grills, our easy camaraderie gave us much laughter on several topics. My cheese paneer masala dosa ($17.99) was good and my friend's first Southern Indian food experience was a success. I'll have to change her skepticism about Indian seafood though there were no previous complaints.

Long and Winding Road

The last two days I've had both poutine and pizza. They were small pick-me-ups from a wracking cough that has persisted since early May and the return of my decade-long restless slumber. By going to bed even earlier than usual, I had almost 7 hours of sleep for a few days. But now the toss-and-turn and frequent awakenings have returned.

My mother has not been home because we received expected but still sad news. My grandma will likely not see Christmas or maybe not even her 97th birthday. The growth turned out to be cancerous and her advanced age made surgery or chemo non-viable options. I thought about my old landlord who flew back and died in India after being released from the hospital for a second hip surgery. A thoughtless decision by her brother according to his daughter, but a final wish according to his wife. I pondered about using my windfall to fly my grandma first-class back to the old country, for a last visit or permanently. But I didn't know how much time was left, and I was worried how we might handle pain management and other advanced hospice care outside of Canada.

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of family discussion regarding issues like power of attorney and additional home care. The problem with the latter was that we had a shortage of candidates. Her daughters were still working despite all being retirement age (an indictment of capitalism) and her retired sons were useless. I have some sympathy as my grandma's generation would not feel comfortable being aided in their ablutions by males. But it was even in the little things. Instead of helping her to watch her favourite game shows, my uncle (whose family she has lived with and helped for decades) simply complained that she was too old to manage a smart TV. After I tuned in to The Price Is Right, he turned down the volume despite her being hard-of-hearing. Then he played a Youtube video through his laptop speaker instead of moving to another room. I was so irritated I almost said something regrettable.

Finally it was decided that my mother would take compassionate leave with the other aunts relieving her for 1-2 days per week. I have had a weekly phone call with my grandma even back in Toronto. With my relocation back to Ottawa, I see her in person about every 3 weeks when I'm not sick. So I have listened to numerous stories about her life and people (kin or friends) most of whom were dead. Living through colonization, two wars, and several emigrations, her memories were more eventful than my own. I wished that final trip could happen to bring her full-circle back to her beginnings.

Business Unusual

On Monday, I was back in Toronto. With the imminent buy-out of my company, they wanted people be present in-person at the office because there were several meetings planned for the next two days. I was still sick from last week but since it was company-paid, I opted to fly with Porter Air ($992 round trip) into the downtown airport. I also picked an old AirBnB spot because I didn't want to be stuck at a suburban hotel.

I haven't flown in more than decade and the view, although interesting, didn't grab me. Porter has become more of a budget airline compared to when I flew with them regularly in the aughts: bolted seats, scratches, dings, and stained carpeting. Although when my thought changed from "What lake is that outside?" to "Oh, we are here in Toronto already", the perks of speedy travel became apparent. In fact, with taxi rides in both cities ($60 average), it was downright pleasant. Still, I was sick enough to need a few hours to unwind in my rental. In the early evening, I walked down to Little India and revisited Karma Kitchen. The Nepalese thali option was better back in 2022. The crispy beef with honey sauce ($14.99) and rice ($2.99) was tasty but boy, it gave my jaw a workout. I was a bit afraid for my teeth.

Tuesday started with a bagel egg sandwich ($5.95) from La Prep after an interminable bus ride up Victoria Park Ave. The doldrum continued with a Zoom meeting from some C-level execs from our parent company. Then it was a long discussion with the CTO and a senior product manager who were in Toronto. I barely remembered what we all talked about. I did recall that HR ordered some of the worst pizza I've ever eaten. I was dog-tired from the commute back (even though I had smartened up and took the express bus) so I just dropped by a barBurrito (replacing Retro Burger) at Danforth and Coxwell. While there was a brief downpour outside, I ate a regular-sized spicy chicken wrap ($11.99).

Wednesday breakfast was also at La Prep for a bagel with cream cheese ($4.25) and a fruit cup ($5). For more than $5 with tax, I expected more than a thin swipe of cheese though. There were more meetings though it ended early as the new bosses were driving back to Cleveland. Some recent hires (2 years or less) and I went to a nearby Vietnamese place called La Sen. We all agreed that though lunch was good, it was too much food and a bit pricey. We all would be happy to pay two-third the menu price for a half portion. My own pork chop rice plate was $17.95 and I was surprised that they used actual broken-head rice instead of just typical jasmine. Still full from lunch, I later stopped off at a local market named Daily Goods for a small Greek Pasta salad ($4.44) and an Apple Crumble slice ($6.49) for an eat-in dinner in my room.

Thursday was supposed to be a non-remote working day with my entire team, our first ever because several members were hired during the pandemic. Unfortunately, we had trouble with the office wifi on Wednesday so my manager decided we'll have to work from "home" instead. While he was working in the hotel until his evening flight back to San Francisco, I decided to see if I could change my own night departure. Luckily, with 6+ daily trips to Ottawa by Porter, it was no problem switching to a 9:30 a.m. flight. Airport food is famously expensive but $11 for a bowl of oatmeal with fruit topping from Café Obispo was criminal. Thank goodness for corporate reimbursement.

Once in Ottawa, I finally checked the value of my stock options. I was alerted by some colleagues Wednesday night that the paystub with our buy-out was already in the system even though we won't be paid until next week. It was a tidy sum if nowhere near what our own execs were getting. My personal beef was that in addition to all the recent hardship, I had no salary increase for 7 years because we were a start-up. This pay-cheque would be the equivalent of a raise every year over that same time. So no retire-to-a-tropical-island money, but one less gripe/regret about my late-career choices. In some ways, this mental unburdening was just as valuable.

Wishful Thinking

I caught up on some remote work from 5:30 am since I was sick yesterday. I took a break at 8:30 and walked over to Uncle Sid's Deli for a sausage breakfast wrap ($7.75). Previous times, it was some random employee but on this Thursday, I recognized that it was the son-in-law. That first time, he told me about why they re-opened as a deli instead of continuing with the roti business. This time, I related that I had been a weekly customer at Vena's Roti for almost 20 years. The roll was warm and tasty but I struggled to finish it. I wondered whether it had extra filling or more likely (foreshadowing), I haven't been my regular self on the porcelain throne.

I was so full that I worked through lunch. Finally in the late afternoon, I went to visit my friend at her restaurant. Our brunch had been cancelled due my illness. I asked after her brother who came to Canada last year. The good news: he was working (even if only temporarily) as a carpenter nearby. The bad news: he abandoned his ESL studies and spent his hours hanging out with new friends watching sports. Goofing off might be acceptable but he doesn't help with rent or cleaning. Her own health was a bit touch and go either from recent accidents or something chronic from childhood polio. She might give up the business and move somewhere warmer with a slower pace of life.

After I paid for my veggie plate ($18.50) and bid her til next time, I thought about walking "the world in 10 blocks" back to my rental. But the heaviness in my belly from previous experience changed my mind. It was a good thing too that I took the 2-stop subway trip instead because I needed to visit the washroom right away. It wasn't quite as bad as other times, more of a case of a week's worth of stuff gone in a few minutes. Still, there were several flushes and in this older bathroom without a fan system, things lingered in the air. Luckily, the host was out until the evening.

Which is why despite how well-furnished and pleasant this apartment was, I won't rent this on AirBnB again because I need my own private bathroom. But in general, I'm surprised that this nondescript house at Lansdowne have 9 apartment units. If most of them were as nice and well-maintained as this one, the landlord was actually doing their job.

Most of the other units weren't likely to be AirBnB rentals since I only saw 1 lockbox at the entrance. I wondered if the owner knew that my host was renting out a room. She was a retiree from Winnipeg who recently moved to Toronto to be near her daughter. She professed not loving the Big Smoke yet but, in my opinion, treating her scoliosis with aquafit in the saltwater pool at the Miles Nadal and frequent chiropractic sessions on Richmond were big city perks. If she followed through on her Spring resolution to start biking on Bloor St (at least until Doug Ford tears up the bike lanes), I think she'll be a convert.

Though my digestive problem was mild compared to similar times in the past, I knew that I wasn't going to the concert tonight. It was already a long-shot when I purchased the $20 ticket a few weeks back. I couldn't stay out late because I was heading back to Ottawa early next morning. But I had been looking into short-term sublets and was hoping to close a deal so this trip would become a "permanent" stay by Friday. Then a late show wouldn't matter. Perhaps describing myself as a "middle-aged early riser" translated to "cranky roommate" because I got no replies.

The show certainly sounded interesting. Carlyn Bezic is simply sensational as Jane Inc. And seeing for the first time Charise Aragoza fronting her own band Mother Tongues promised a "full circle" moment. Our paths briefly crossed on College St almost 15 years ago. Being my usual early self, I was chatting with Maylee Todd and her crew including Aragoza since they recognized me from various shows. Some behind-the-scene brouhaha with the promoter or venue caused Maylee Todd to pull out at the last-minute and I helped her pack up her gear. Todd invited me to a roof-top party instead but as an introvert who was decades older than likely everyone else, I politely backed out.