Chapter 45: Re-emergence

The 50^th Anniversary Gala has been promoted for several months now – obviously, this is very proud moment for the EGA.  Last year, when dad was away, mom attended the 49^th Anniversary event with us.  It seemed like a no-brainer that we would all be here for the 50^th.  But for whatever reason, we hadn’t gotten around to purchasing tickets before mom died –   which is particularly hilarious given that I quite gladly signed both of my kids up to be MCs for the children’s play that will form part of the evening’s entertainment programme.  Anyway, with mom gone, it then became a “to go or not to go” discussion for dad.  The kids were super keen to continue with their MC duties, so the four of us were committed at least.  I was really pushing for dad to join us.  He and mom weren’t exactly founding members of the EGA, but they both came to Edmonton in 1975.  Just as the EGA was getting off the ground, they were huge supporters of the EGA’s efforts and they certainly contributed a lot of volunteer time to organizing association events.  There was such a small number of families of Goan heritage in Edmonton and so it was a fairly close-knit community – in fact, some of my happiest childhood memories involve EGA events.

Well, no luck.  Dad was absolutely steadfast in staying home.  He said that he would lose it if he had to deal with a non-stop parade of people offering the whole “I’m so sorry” routine.  And now that we’re here, I get it.  This is a huge event – there are several hundred people in attendance with some having travelled in for it from out of town, or even out of province.  We’re barely two hours into the proceedings and I’m already exhausted from all of the belated condolences from people who I think are only saying anything because I’m right there in front of their face.  I decided to wear mom’s red and gold sari – and I’m starting to wish I could tape a sign to it that reads, “I know – you’ve been busy.  It’s fine.”  There’s a part of me that wants to snarkily respond to all of the comments I’m getting for the first time by reminding people that if they really cared, they could have picked up the phone or sent an email, but hey.  The more I go through the grieving process, the more I’m realizing how useless I’ve probably been to other people in similar situations.  Sigh.

The evening has been weird.  Again, there is obviously so much pride to reflect on how the Goan community in Edmonton has grown over 50 years and how many things we have accomplished.  But it’s just so sad that mom isn’t here to enjoy any of this, or to be reminded of her contributions to previous “Goafests.”

And then my mind drifts to being at dad’s place yesterday.  He had asked me to come over to start clearing out some of the basement cupboards.  My poor mama.  Despite dad’s best efforts to always send her to the store with a defined list, it doesn’t look like that always worked.  Among the weird and wonderful things we inventoried were four containers of baking powder, seven bottles of paprika, and more toilet paper than you would have found at a Canadian Tire riot during the early days of COVID!

Well, small steps, I guess.  I showed up and took one for the family team in terms of all of the condolences received, frustrating as they may have been.  We have shown our face.  And I have proved to myself that I can have an evening out of the house in nice clothes and not worry about becoming a bucket of tears.  Not sure if this officially counts as progress, but I’m going to take the win anyway.