CanCon Thursday - From The Night

Let's be young
Let's pretend that we never will die
Let's imagine that no one is lost it's not easy but we got to try

Three years ago today, Mark died.

Three years.

Grief and loss are funny things and they affect people in a million different ways.

For me, the first year, I think I functioned on auto-pilot.  There were important things I needed to do, sell my house and move were at the top of that list.  You go through the motions and folks are very supportive as you navigate all of those "firsts." First Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first Mardi Gras (his favourite holiday), first birthdays, and finally, marking the end of the first year since they left you.

Us.

What no one talks about it is how difficult the second year is.  It was gut-wrenchingly difficult for me.  The reality starts to truly set in that the person is gone.  I had never experienced pain and anguish like I did that second year.  It was absolutely awful.

Year three, as it happened, got a bit easier.  In fact, had I not had to deal with the death of my Sam in the middle of year three, I would have said it was a good one.  Overall, I had more good days than bad, I no longer cry every day (year two, I had a cry, sometimes just for a moment, sometimes a big fat ugly one, daily).  I still get upset by certain
things, ambulances with their sirens on while I'm in traffic, I'm still no good in large crowds of people and it seems to take me forever to read a book but, overall, things are good.

Took a while to figure out what I was doing and where I was going after Mark died.  Losing your partner, the person who you had it all figured out with, especially suddenly like I did, really knocks you down.  I like where I'm going right now.  My job is great, I work with a wonderful team of folks, my boss is insanely supportive and encouraging.  My friends are terrific and my family continue to be just huge rock stars in my life.  They love and support me unconditionally and I would be lost without them.

On August 16, 2015, as I walked in the house, alone for the first time, I could not have imagined where I would be three years later.  At that moment, imaging three hours later was almost impossible.  I say all of the time, that you never ever get over a loss like mine but you can get through it.  I'm living proof that this is true.

So, today is CanCon Thursday and I'm going to share a song today that I've shared here before (a while ago) because there isn't one thing that I don't love about it and the video is terrific (reminds me of our many trips to Montreal, wandering the streets after a concert, looking for a spot where Mark could smoke a sneaky joint while we walked) and it's just a perfect pop song.  Thank you Stars, for "From the Night."  I hope you enjoy it as much as I do and remember, hug your loved ones, tell them how you feel about them, all the fucking time.  You never ever know what might happen when you least expect it.  xo

Happy Birthday Chef

Today we'll celebrate your birthday for the third time without you here.

You'd be 66 today if you were still around to have some cake and sushi.

The Birthday Boy.

Gracie and me and all of our friends and family, everyone who loved you, still love you and miss you every day.  I wish you could hear the things people say to me about you, the stories they share about who you were and how much you meant to them. You touched people in a big way and left a hole in lot of hearts when you died.

I know you can't read this but it makes me feel good to write to you like this, let's me think for a second that you are still checking your email and you'll be able to understand how special you were.  Again, I'm reminded of the note your beautiful friend Lynda sent me after you passed away, "he had the strongest spirit and presence of anyone I've ever known. Simply a complex, fascinating, charismatic human being unlike anyone I've ever known."  She was so right.  You were one in a billion...Happy Birthday Chef Mark xo

Roger Waters Made Me Cry

Actually, I don't think Roger Waters made me cry but something he did definitely made me cry.

Today Roger announced a new tour and there is a new album on it's way.



From the day I met Mark in August of 1999, he spoke almost daily about a new album from Roger.  Amused to Death had been released in 1992 and Mark very impatiently waited for new material.  In the last couple of years before Mark died, I know that Roger had teased snippets of lyrics, released as poems but you knew that they were going to end up in songs.  Occasionally new stuff came Mark's way.  In 2004, Roger released the To Kill a Child / Leaving Beirut single.  2005 saw the release of Roger's opera, Ca Ira.  Hello I Love You from "The Last Mimzy" was a lovely surprise in 2007.   It was all okay but Mark wanted an album.  He wanted another "Pros and Cons" or "Amused" - a total Roger package.
After the Wall tour ended in 2012 (and Mark was the first show of that tour in Toronto in 2010 and at the last show of the tour in Quebec City in 2012) talk began about a new album and a new tour.  When would it happen? Was Roger in the studio again?  Mark and the other guys on his Floyd fan sites were making themselves go mad from the speculation.  Mark so loved that Wall tour and he couldn't wait to see Roger again.  I'm so grateful that we were able to get to Toronto in September 2014, PICC line in his arm and everything, and see that Wall concert film at TIFF.  I never thought that it would be the last time Mark would be in the same room with Roger.  I thought for sure that when the next tour came, Mark would be there, like he had for decades.  Whenever Roger was touring, Mark was there.

As I watched the promotional video Roger released today, I sobbed, silently (I was at work).  I was sad and really angry that Mark wouldn't get to see this tour or hear the new songs that were promised.  It broke my heart a little that I wouldn't get to see Mark's eyes light up as he watched the video, over and over again (and he would have, trust me).

That this was announced on the same day that Bob Dylan won a Nobel Prize in Literature is interesting.  Mark loved Bob too, I would say that both men were heroes to Mark.  Days like this, I really miss him and wish that he was here, to read all of the stories and hear all of the songs and feel all of the feelings that really loving music can give you.

Try as I might, I can't get my head around the idea of a Roger tour without Mark.

8 Months and Breakfast for Mimi

It was eight months ago today that Mark died.

Looking back on the last month, I can see that for me, something shifted and I'm feeling more at peace than I have in a long time.  After a long winter spent in a fog of grief, with too much time inside my head, I feel a bit like a flower trying to push through the soil in spring.  I can feel the warmth growing and am looking forward to facing whatever might be coming my way.

I feel stronger and happier than I have in a long time.  I'm starting to realize how much Mark's illness, and not just his death, affected me.  Going back 4 years to when he was first diagnosed with colon cancer, I started to live my life in fear.  I was desperately afraid that he was going to die.  Every time he would have surgery, I was terrified that he wouldn't make it through.  Funny thing is, he was never afraid of the surgery (one of the benefits of getting to sleep through it we would joke), he dreaded the treatments and I know his own personal idea of hell was a long lingering, painful illness. I continue to be grateful that he didn't have to endure something like that.

Over the past couple of days, I had the chance to spend time with some of my wonderful friends, people I haven't seen a lot of recently.  It was nice for me to be able to laugh with them, cry a little at times, and just feel reconnected to the world outside of my own four walls.

In addition to it being 8 months since Mark died, today is also Mimi's birthday.  Before there was a Mark and Peggy, there was Mark and Mimi.  As difficult as it was for Mark, I will be forever grateful to Mimi for leaving him. If they had remained happily married, I would have never had the opportunity to meet him.  For many years, Mark and Mimi "slung hash" side by side at "Mimi's."  She passed away suddenly in July 2010.  It was a total shock to learn of her passing.  She was only 54.  Today, Mimi would have been 60 and I know that for the people who loved her, in particular her life-long bestie Elaine, it's a difficult day to get through.  On April 16, 2011, in honour of Mimi's birthday, Mark cooked up "breakfast for Mimi"

I don't know if  you could even count how many breakfasts Mimi and Mark cooked over the years but I know that anyone who was ever fed by them walked away from the table very happy and satisfied.  As much as Mark was a culinary adventurer, he was never happier than when he found a really good version of bacon, eggs, toast and coffee.

They Say It's Your Birthday

Happy Birthday Mark.

You would have turned 64 today.  I never thought that I wouldn’t get to sing “When I’m 64” to you on your birthday this year (even thought it’s a Paul song).  We both knew that 65 might be a push and 70, well we didn’t dare dream that 70 was possible, but 64, that was a no-brainer.  I had already made plans for us to visit Montreal and you were so excited about that.  We would have left last night on the train (something we NEVER do – travel by train) and checked into John and Yoko’s room at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel.  We would spend the day wandering around in Montreal, celebrating your 64th birthday in style.

How I wish that could have happened.

Instead, today, I have plans to celebrate your birthday with some lovely friends.  I am even heading out of town to do it (the first time I’ve left Kingston since we took that trip to Brockville to have your PICC put in).  We will remember you and will laugh a lot and probably cry a little and talk about much we loved you and the joy you brought to our lives, not to mention how much better off we were for having you in our lives.

Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away
Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four?

Sad December

Mark in Strawberry Fields, October 2005

For as long as I knew Mark, in December he would get really depressed about the upcoming anniversary of the death of John Lennon.  Mark loved John and never got over his death.  I realize now, as I cope with my own grief, that Mark was experiencing deep grief that never went away.

One of the first road trips I took with Mark was to New York.  We left work on the afternoon of December 7, 1999.  The drive in the dark felt longer than it was, the December sky was clear and you could see Christmas lights on rural homes from miles away.  In Cobbleskill county, a police officer actually came out onto the highway from behind a billboard to pull us over and give us a speeding ticket.  it was like something out of a bad movie.  When Mark asked to see the calibration of his radar gun, the officer moved his hip toward Mark (who was still sitting behind the wheel) to show us both the gun he had in his holster as he said, "no." We took the ticket and went on our way.

Eventually, after midnight, we arrived at the Tuckahoe Road Motor Inn in Yonkers.  We didn't know anything about it but the Holiday Inn we found in our CAA book was full and it was close by.  Making our way there from the Holiday Inn, we actually found ourselves, "lost in Yonkers" at one point.  We got a weird room which was painted bright pink and was a "family" room which meant it was gigantic and had 4 beds in it, plus 2 sofa beds.  The view from the bathroom was of a field of garbage dumpsters.   As long as it was clean and safe, we didn't care.

In the morning, we drove into Manhattan and spent several hours in Strawberry Fields, sipping coffee and remembering John with fellow fans.  We were interviewed by a British documentary film crew who seemed surprised that we were there "all the way from Canada" - perhaps not realizing that it was a 6 hour drive.  They were gathering film for a 20th Anniversary project which would air in 2000.  In the years since, we were never able to track down the footage.  Being in the park that morning was sad and uplifting at the same time.  While we all missed John terribly, our shared love for him and his music brought us together and we celebrated his life as a community.

Since Mark died, I have not yet been able to listen to John or the Beatles.  I've tried but can't do it.  This morning on my drive to work, I heard a clip from a broadcast of "As It Happens" from December 1980.  When it was over, they played "Imagine" and I started to cry.  I didn't turn the radio off, I made myself listen to it.  Maybe I'm getting closer to being able to hear John's voice again without my heart breaking over my own loss.  I hope so.

Six Weeks

Mark at Finkle Shore, 2006

Six weeks.

Almost unbelievable that it’s been six weeks since Mark died.

At times, I feel as though it just happened.  At other times, it feels like he has been gone for years.

A lot has happened over these past six weeks.  Of course, I had to deal with the bureaucracy that one has to deal with after someone dies.  On top of that, I’ve been working on getting our home ready to sell.  Some days, I get up in the morning and feel pretty good and am actually able to get things done.  Of course, there are days where it takes everything I have to get up and feed the dogs.

On the day Mark died, I made myself promise to do the following things, every day, regardless of how I was feeling:

1.    Get out of bed
2.    Have a shower
3.    Get dressed
4.    Keep the dogs on their routine

I can say that except for a couple of days when I was dealing with some plumbing issues in the house and I couldn't shower (all sorted now!), I have kept my promises.  It may seem like these are simple things that a person should be able to accomplish everyday but when the weight of grief is pressing down upon you, it would be pretty easy to just pull the covers up over your head so you can stay in bed and cry.

Until Mark died, I never knew about the anxiety that can accompany grief.  It’s not something I’d really experienced before beyond the kind of anxiety you feel when you’re having a job interview or something.  During those first few weeks after Mark died, I suffered from anxiety almost constantly.  The anxiety affected my ability to sleep or eat properly.  I’d sometimes find myself hyperventilating and feeling panicked while participating in ordinary activities.   Fortunately, the anxiety is subsiding and I seem to experience it more on the weekends than I do through the week. My ability to concentrate seems to be improving too. 

Tomorrow, I’m going back to work.  I was on vacation the first two weeks of August and, on the last day of my scheduled vacation, Mark died.  My doctor (I’ve been seeing her regularly over the past six weeks) has suggested that I go back part-time for the next two weeks with the hopes that I’ll be able to return to work full-time after Thanksgiving.   With any luck, when I’m back at work, my concentration will be okay and my anxiety will keep away.

There are a lot of assholes in the world.  Some days, it feels like we are only seeing the absolute worst in people.  Over the past few years, since Mark was first diagnosed with cancer, I tried to see the other side of things when dealing with someone who may not be very nice.  I’d say to Mark that to look at him, he appeared to be very healthy.  No one would ever guess that had cancer cells fighting to set up camp inside of him.  I’d remind him that just as no one could ever guess what was going on with him, we have no idea of what other folks are walking around with either.  People are, by nature, kind.  It’s easy to not see this as we rush through our busy lives.  I’ve had an opportunity to see things move at a slower pace and have experienced real kindness and been overwhelmed by just how good people can be. I don’t think that any good is going to come from suddenly losing Mark like I did but I have seen the absolute best in people since he died.  Since he died, I’ve been on the receiving end of more compassion and kindness than I could have ever imagined.  My family, in particular my parents, and my friends have been absolutely incredible and I don’t know how I would ever survived these first six weeks without them.

I have no idea what the next six weeks are going to bring.  I plan to face them the same way I did the first six weeks, moment by moment, day by day.

Thank you all

The following is a message I sent out to our friends and family this morning.

Hello everyone,

I must apologize for not sending this out sooner but I have been feeling very overwhelmed the past couple of days and it's taken me some time to process everything.  I wanted to thank each and every one of you who were able to join us on Saturday (either in person or in spirit) to celebrate the life of our beloved Chef Mark.

Mark would have been very touched (and probably a little bit embarrassed – although secretly he would have LOVED it) to see so many people gathered together, sharing stories, laughing at photos and remembering what a great guy he was.  A lovely friend of Mark’s sent me a note and said, “he had the strongest spirit and presence of anyone I've ever known. Simply a complex, fascinating, charismatic human being unlike anyone I've ever known.”  I think that describes him perfectly.

You will never know how much your support has meant to me since Mark died.  I’m continuing to take things moment by moment, day by day and I’m so grateful for all of you.  I’m so very lucky to have you in my life.

Much love to you all, Peggy xo

Mark Leslie Collis

Mark's obituary was published in the Toronto Star and the Kingston Whig-Standard today.

COLLIS, Mark Leslie (Chef Mark) - of Kingston, age 63, died suddenly on Sunday, August 16, 2015 at Kingston General Hospital. Mark will be forever loved and missed by his wife Peggy Shanks and his beloved dogs Gracie and Sam. Mark will also be remembered affectionately by Michael and Theresa Shanks (Amherstview), Patrick Shanks and Cynthia Deveau (Ottawa), his uncle Nate Collis (Toronto), members of the Collis, Shanks and Forbes families and a large network of friends. Mark is predeceased by his wonderful parents, Joe and Ida Collis, his brother Barry Collis and his ex-wife, Mimi Braidberg. He was an exceptionally talented, classically trained French Chef working in Toronto for many years, creating delicious meals at Fenton's, Vittorio's, Zaidy's, Carlevale's and Bemelman's Restaurants. Mark opened his own restaurant in Toronto, La Bionda which was well known in the late 1980's for its open kitchen and creative cuisine. In the 1990's Mark was able to combine his passion for food with his love for music through his catering company "Touring Kitchens." Mark cooked for many of his musical heroes including Roger Waters, Dr. John, The Neville Brothers and Leon Redbone (to name just a few). By the end of the 1990's he had met Peggy, moved to Kingston and opened Ida's Kitchen. In recent years, after retiring from cooking, Mark worked as a cab driver. A celebration of Mark's life is being planned for the fall. Mark's family would like to thank all of the medical professionals who provided such excellent care to him during his illness. In particular, thank you to Dr Tu Van Banh, Dr Hugh MacDonald, Dr Sulaiman Nanji, Dr James Biagi and all of the staff at the Cancer Centre of Southeastern Ontario. As an expression of sympathy, in lieu of flowers, memorial donations to the Kingston Humane Society (http://kingstonhumanesociety.ca/) or CFRC Radio Queen's University (http://givetoqueens.ca/cfrc) would be appreciated.