Peut-etre en septembre…

Moi j’ai decide de t’attendre, peut-etre en septembre, tu seras la.

That line comes from an old song from a teenybopper television show I used to watch when I lived in Belgium called Helene et les Garcons. I watched it faithfully…along with the rest of the 12-15 year old french-speaking kids in Europe. I was 18! hah But I was learning to speak French so it helped to watch those shows because they spoke more simply. This song was a love song written after an American on the show went home to the US, leaving behind her love. He said he has decided to wait for her and maybe in September, she’ll come back.

I think of that song every September. I’m not waiting for my love to come back…he came back on June 26th and his ordeal in doing so is the very reason I started this blog!! I was so fired up and when I get that way, I need to rant! And I had been doing a lot of ranting on social media and figured my poor friends needed a break!! At least if I did it on my own blog, people would have to seek it out, not have it shoved in their faces!! And then all these other stories came to me and I felt like I was supposed to share each one of them when I did. And here we are in September. I’m thinking of that old song. And reminded of the six months I was waiting for my love to come home to me…sitting on the porch of my cabin at the Mountain Gap Inn in Smiths Cove, NS as the sun is about to set. It’s called the Mountain Gap because the resort is situated right on the Annapolis Basin, where the Digby Gut provides a peek to the waters beyond that will eventually lead you to New Brunswick! Thanks to Dr. Milner, I am recalling the emotional turmoil of Joan’s six month absence here in a place of peace and tranquility!

So…first of all, the back story. Joan’s beloved mother, Ana Mercedes, passed away in April of 2020 after a lengthy illness. A formidable woman, she raised her own 7 children and 4 nieces/nephews and was the absolute glue that held the Ortega-Balbuena families together. It was devastating to watch her baby boy be so far from home when she passed…from the moment we met, that was a worry for him. What on earth would he do if she passed when he was living so far from home? Well on that fateful day, it was worse than any of us could have ever imagined. The world had shut down just a month before with the covid 19 global pandemic. The Dominican Republic, an island nation in the Caribbean was on lock down. There were no flights and no boats in or out of the island. Canada had closed its land borders and we were in our own tumultuous lock downs. There was no way for Joan to get to his mother’s side.

I watched him do his best to be brave; to share wonderful stories of her adventures; to show support for those at home left to handle her wake and burial. It was brutal. Typically there would be a wake for nine days…where family and friends and neighbours would gather in the home of the deceased and offer their loving support. Their government gave them 2 hours. Joan was left to watch from afar as his beloved Mama was laid to rest. I remember him saying in the days following that that was the very worst thing that could have happened in his entire world…that he had spent every day since he’d arrived in Canada worrying about when he would get the call, but it still sucked the very life out of him. As a daughter-in-law and a wife, I did the very best I could to be supportive and loving and to surround him with our England family as best we could (my parents were both in our bubble throughout the pandemic since we provide care for Mom).

When loved ones die, especially those that are closest to us, there are rituals we invoke that have developed over time and are passed down through generations; rituals designed to help us celebrate the departed while coping with the tremendous loss. And covid robbed everyone of those rituals. I’m sick to my stomach as I write this now, just remembering how helpless I felt. I watched Joan’s grief go from shock to sadness…and we kept watching for when the world would return to normal. Flights eventually resumed in June 2020 but at that time, the media was talking about how a vaccine was imminent that would bring an end to the pandemic; that the world would return to normal by the fall. So we decided to wait it out. Joan was like a zombie; going through the motions but unable to engage. I watched his sparkle dim and his light lose its shine.

Thank goodness for technology as we were able to stay in communication with his family and friends daily…but it’s not quite the same. You can’t smell and feel and taste and touch via a computer screen. You don’t get your soul nourished in a virtual hug. And Joan desperately needed his soul to be nourished.

The fall came and we were no closer to returning to normal.

Christmas came and there wasn’t much to celebrate. Joan’s Mom’s death and his inability to grieve her loss had permeated every inch of our lives. We couldn’t even gather as a family as we were limited to groups of 10. So we had a low key Christmas dinner with my parents. His utter sadness on that Christmas day shattered my heart. I knew he couldn’t continue like this. He was going to go insane. We couldn’t wait for a vaccine. He had waited eight months and every single second of that eight months had been pure torture for him. And for those of us who love him. We booked a flight for him that week.

I think Joan was simply relieved that after all this time he was finally going to get there; to grieve her loss; to say his formal goodbye; to lay his beloved mama to rest, with the rituals he needed to fully process. I remember feeling such a sense of fear. He so desperately needed to go home…and I was afraid that he wouldn’t ever be able to come back. After all, if it hadn’t been for me living in Canada, he would have been home with his mother when she passed.

He flew home in January 2021, expecting to stay 3 weeks. He made arrangements to say the final farewell to his mother and he made plans to be with “his boys” for the joint birthdays too (he, his good friend Kelvin and his “son” Addison all have birthdays within days of each other in January). He needed to be home with his family. He needed to walk where she walked and be where she was. He needed to be surrounded by those who knew and loved her. I still wasn’t sure if he was ever coming back when I started seeing rumblings that Prime Minister Trudeau was talking about shutting down international travel as covid 19 cases across Canada were rising. I suggested to Joan that maybe we should look at flights but he simply wasn’t ready to come home yet. He knew it and I knew it.

Then the shoe dropped. One Friday at the end of January, Prime Minister Trudeau announced that flights were going to be stopped between Canada and sun destinations, including the Dominican Republic until April 30th. The last fights would be the following Monday, so in three days time. Our travel agent friend reached out to us to give us direction in such a tumultuous time and we will be forever grateful for all of her help!!! In order to fly home, Canada was requiring a very particular covid 19 test and it was only available at a clinic in Puerto Plata, which is over an hour by car from where Joan’s family lives (and he did not have a car). That testing location was booking tests a week in advance. We didn’t have a week, we had three days.

Now, there are several All Inclusive resorts on the north coast of the island where Joan is from and all of these had scurried to make arrangements for their guests…so perhaps if we had rattled some cage or another, there may have been a way to get him tested. But we didn’t have a contact and the last thing we wanted to have happen was him arrive in Toronto and not have the right stuff. It was stressful and complicated and chaotic….and Joan simply didn’t have the strength for it.

The first video chat after we realized there was no way Joan could come home before April 30th proved to be such a turning point in our relationship. What I saw on Joan’s face that day was pure relief; he was relieved he was stuck there. I was sad and lonesome and missed him like crazy. But in that moment, I knew that he WANTED to get better and WANTED to come back. And April 30th didn’t seem like that terribly long a wait.

But then reality sets in. Joan is trapped thousands of miles away in the midst of a global pandemic. He is unable to work but must still be able to live there…and our bills don’t stop because of a pandemic! Less income, more bills, separation, anxiety….I cried so much between February and June that I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to stop.

Jon Tattrie from the CBC contacted us to do a story about our covid separation and it shone a light on some of the good works Joan was doing…both before he left for the DR and while he was stranded there last winter. I was buoyed by the support that came my way following that CBC story. Most people made comments that we were lucky cause we were used to living apart so this must be easy for us now. I am lucky I am not in jail cause my responses in my head were not pleasant. No one could fully understand cause it was quite a unique situation in which to find oneself…but it helped that some people tried following the CBC article.

April 22nd came and it marked the one year anniversary of Joan’s Mom’s passing. The family gathered together, having tshirts made with her likeness on them, and celebrated in the traditional one year manner that is their custom. I was elated that Joan was able to be there with all of them.

April 30th came hot on the heels of this anniversary and I watched the news cycle all day long. That night, Joan messaged asking when can we book the flight? I was ecstatic that he wanted to come home!! But I had to tell him that Canada’s Prime Minister had not made an announcement, despite assuring the general public back in January that April 30th was the deadline. But you see, it didn’t affect Canadians when Mr. Trudeau halted flights between the Caribbean and Canada. Canadians simply had to fly to the USA first and then board a flight to the Caribbean. Permanent Residents like my husband, however, did not have that option. In order to fly to the USA en route to Canada, Joan needed a transit visa; which he had to obtain from the US embassy in Santo Domingo (the capitol of the DR and about 3 hours away by car from Joan’s family home…with no car). So even if we could overcome the geographical barrier, the embassy was closed to all but emergency services. Needing a transit visa to come back to Canada was not considered an emergency.

Joan felt stranded for the first time on that evening of April 30th. And I, again, felt helpless.

There were all kinds of internet rumblings about when flights may start again. But every time West Jet or Air Canada would show direct-to-Canada flights, those dates would inevitably be cancelled. In May, I contacted my local Member of Parliament, Sean Fraser. I had worked on his two campaigns and felt like I knew him a little bit so hoped he would realize that, just like I said in my email, I wasn’t looking for special treatment, I was simply looking for direction. Someone named Kyle Findlay in his office wrote me back several days later saying:

Hi Jo Ann,

Thanks for connecting and I hope you are well. I’ve sent a note to me colleague in the Minister’s office about this, and will pass on any guidance I receive.

Take care & talk soon,

Kyle

Good ole Kyle. I hope you read that in an Irish accent like I did. Yes, that typo is in the original. I simply cut and pasted it. I have heard nothing since. A constituent (me) reached out to Mr. Fraser…someone I knew and who I believed in and who I supported through 2 campaigns (and even at the nomination convention); and he didn’t have the decency to even respond to my plight. Thanks to his government, my husband was trapped away from me for months on end…my husband who I’d had to wait for years to have by my side in the first place. At the time, there were four countries singled out for mutated versions of covid 19: South Africa, India, Brazil and the UK. Yet there was NO travel ban between Canada and any of those countries until much later in the spring when India’s flights were discontinued. There was no explanation as to why Mr. Trudeau canceled flights between the Caribbean and Canada and no reason why that ban was in place. Any educated person could see that he was simply trying to make going on spring break vacations more difficult. But what he wound up doing was dooming my husband and other permanent residents like him to an indefinite hiatus to their lives. He took a medical problem, the covid 19 outbreak, and threw a political solution at it…and my husband paid the price. And my elected official couldn’t be bothered to even express his concern or to look into it or to simply say I’m sorry you’re going through this.

Now I’m sure Mr. Fraser was busy. It was a chaotic time. I was an essential worker so I didn’t miss any work. Government officials were all working from home. Apparently in his work from home, he simply didn’t have the time or inclination to reach out to a lowly constituent. I mean, seriously, how many other people would have been in our position? I’ve already explained how no other Canadians would be affected…just my Permanent Resident husband. Is that why? Cause he could get no vote from Joan? Even today, I find his lack of contact callous and unkind. There is no way he had mountains of constituents with the same issue I had, so he should have gotten back to me. Period.

I vowed I would never vote for him again. I would vote for anyone but Sean Fraser. The election was called in August and this week saw Mr. Trudeau win another minority government and Mr. Fraser win his seat back. Usually I voice my opinion publicly about election issues but I was silent this time. I would not publicly support an MP who didn’t care about his constituents.

Savannah from Mr. Fraser’s office contacted me to see if I would work the election. I replied that “considering I’ve been waiting since May for a promised return call/email/text from Sean, it’s safe to say I have no interest in helping with the campaign.” Savannah apologized that he didn’t get back to me but reiterated that there was a lot at stake in this election and hoped I’d consider supporting him anyway. I didn’t respond.

I did my homework and researched the alternatives. As an aunt to a transgendered niece, there is no way I could support Erin O’Toole or Maxime Bernier. I liked Jagmeet Singh but I saw what a New Democratic Party government had done in Nova Scotia. I took the test on cbc.ca to determine where my views fell. And lo and behold…based most particularly on my prioritizing social justice issues, I fell smack dab in the middle of “Liberal party views”. That was hardly shocking given my track record…I believe in being fiscally responsible while being socially progressive (so if there was a PROGRESSIVE conservative party federally, I would seriously consider supporting that).

Well…so in the end, while not publicly supporting him, I supported Sean Fraser. Despite the fact that he let me down. Despite the fact that I’m still angry he left us hanging!!! I have high hopes for him and expect he will be named a cabinet minister and I hope he knows that he has a lot of work to do to mend fences…with all those seeking change this election and with those of us who need him to step up and be the man we hope he can become.

Stay tuned for the story of how Joan was finally able to come home…and the mountains that were moved to make it happen!! Much love to you and yours as you navigate this, hopefully, final stage of the pandemic. And I hope that whoever or whatever you’re waiting for this September brings you peace, hope, joy and love!

Moi, j’ai decide de t’attendre, peut-etre en septembre, tu seras la….