Dear Abby

Dear Abby,

It has finally happened.

 My wife has left me for another man.

Let me try to explain, what I know is for certain so far. One day while I was making coffee, in the kitchen, I noticed her cell phone on the island. The little light was flashing. You know the one that notifies you have a message. So knowing my wife and her propensity to not check for messages regularly, I thought it best to do so for her.

That is when I found “them”. What I mean is, hundreds of photos and text messages about this other guy! I kind of had this suspicion the last couple of years, like most men; we just bottle it up and pushed it off to the side. Then I started to notice more frequent calls, mostly video chats. Even though money has been tight lately, I noticed she was spending money on someone outside of this household. Strangely, I did not feel the least bit worried, for I generally trust my wife. This is not the first time this has happened.

38 years ago she was in a relationship with another person, when I started to court her. I succeeded and we were married almost 33 years ago. Then sometime around the birth of our second child, it happened.  Not just an affair, but a full blown relationship with the person she had been with before we met. I am certain that relationship is still ongoing, for I have seen signs of it daily for years.

For you see, that first relationship I mentioned, is with our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Without it, she would not be able to love me because of my many faults and short comings. To which I am grateful.

As for this new relationship, it is with our grandson, and I am perfectly fine with that one too.

Sincerely Brad Ogden

The adventure continues

So a lot of things have happened since the last time I had posted. I am really enjoying being back on the road. Sure, I am away from home more, but it beats the daylights working at a job you can’t stand.

August 29^th was our 25^th wedding anniversary, so to celebrate; Sherry came on the road with me that week. Ended up being a short week, but I enjoyed her company all the same. We started out on Tuesday, loading for Rhode Island, delivering Wednesday morning. Our reload was in Connecticut. Once we were loaded, I knew we did not have enough hours to reach the customer that evening and we could only unload after 7 PM there.

So we made it as far as Newport Maine and shutdown for the evening. After looking at my logbook, I decided we would stay there and leave late Thursday afternoon, for a 7PM delivery.

“You spent your anniversary in a truck?” people say. “Yup”, I answer.

For me, it did not matter where or how we spent our anniversary together, as long as we were together.

The past 30 years have been amazing, 25 years married to the girl who stole my heart the first time I saw her. Three awesome children, I am so very proud of.

Looking forward to Sherry coming with me again. And so, the adventure continues.

Change

Well, another March has slipped on by. Changes are afoot and that does not mean change is a bad thing. At least not from my point of view, I am ready for a change.

For some time now I have contemplated making a career change, more specifically returning to the job I love the most, driving tractor trailer.

Some people shake their head in disbelief, when you tell them what your ideal dream job is. So what is it about trucking that is so enticing to me. Hmm, where do I start? I could list the pros and cons of the job, considering there are plenty of both. Such as long hours, traffic delays, constant scrutiny by DOT, and the list goes on.

Wait, this is not sounding so good you say. I would have to disagree with you on that. You see, for me, driving is more than just a job, it is a lifestyle. It is the type of life that you had to grow up with. I long to return to the familiar sights and sounds that I had grown up with.

For too long now, I have struggled with the sin of discontentment, with my current employment. I used to enjoy what I did, but now, not so much. Stress was never a big issue for me. Now I come home and I’m mentally wiped. Yup, time for a change.

Yes, trucking is one of the most underappreciated careers in North America. So the next time you see a truck travelling down the road, on your way to buy that item on sale at your favorite store. Just remember one thing. That someone spent long days alone, away from family and friends, to deliver those goods that you bought.

So, a new chapter is about to be written. There will be lots to write about in the future, I would imagine. But for now, it’s just another day in paradise.

More than a Dog

It was the Friday before the long weekend in May of ’99, when my daughter came home from school and asked if she could have a puppy from a litter that a school mates friend had. I told her we would go look at them, considering I had particular preferences when it comes to dogs. Mainly it had to be short haired and preferably female.

We went and picked out a very little female. She was so small , she barely filled both of your hands. Ok, now I said, this dog has to have ground rules. She will have to get used to sleeping at the back door. That evening, we cordoned off the entrance at the back door and went to bed.

I don’t remember how long I laid there and listened to the dog cry and whine, but I eventually got up and brought her to our room. I made a bed for her next to us on the floor and tried to go back to sleep. Being a big softy, that lasted no more than twenty minutes. She was sitting besides the bed whining.

Ok , I thought just for tonight and I reached down and picked her up onto our bed. She snuggled in between us and soon was fast asleep. I had caved and from that point on, she now slept on our bed.

As she grew, she was no longer was just a pet, she had become a part of our family. She was the first one to greet you when you came through the door . After a while mornings took on a routine, make coffee and let the dog out. She would come back in, eat and lay there till I got ready to leave. Once I left, she would go back upstairs and go back to bed with Sherry.

Now I could continue to tell you about all of the things that I remember  most about her, but under the present circumstance , that would be quite difficult. Her health had started to decline and I knew the day had come.

So Pepper and I took one last walk together.

There is now a void in our family, that will be hard to fill. They say a dog is man’s best friend. That statement is not correct, they are a loyal and loving member of your family. With many tears, I had to say goodbye, to a loved member of my family.

No Regrets

So today marks an anniversary , of sorts. To explain, I need to take you back to the fall of ’81.It all starts with a wager made in high school.

It all began when I arrived late for gym class, because I was trying to switch courses to avoid taking advanced French.( Yes it will surprise some that I was taking advanced French.)

As I walked into the class, which by the way we were learning how to golf. I noticed a friend talking to one of the new kids at our school. I stood back and waited at the back of the class. When Ward came back to where I was, the conversation went something like this.

Ward Perrin: “Wondering who she is? Huh”

Me: “What?”

Ward:” That’s Bill Kirk’s daughter. He owns the trailer shop in Martinon.”

Me: “Oh?”

Ward:” Oh man, you’re staring. I can tell, because you’re too damn quiet.”

Me: “ I am not staring, just observing”

At this point I need to stress that the key word was observing. I can still remember in vivid detail, what I was observing. Before me was a girl wearing a white t-shirt, grey gym pants and sneakers. She did not have the loud poufy hair and tons of make-up, that most of the girls in the eighties had. She appeared to be more of the shy type. I never had much interest in the dating scene, because it usually involved loud parties and copious amounts of alcohol, both which to this day I still avoid.

Ward:” You’re staring.”

Me:” I am not!”

Ward:” I have not seen you so much as look at a girl in this school. I was starting to get worried there for a while.”

Me: ” What the h---?” (Edited for the benefit of the reader)

Ward: “Look. I am going to make a little wager with you. Twenty bucks says you are too chicken to go up and talk to her. No better yet, you have to ask her out.”

Me: “ And why would I be crazy enough to take that wager?” (As I continued to observe with quite more interest at that time.)” Is there a time limit on this wager?”

Ward: “ Nope. Take all the time you need.” (Who now by the way, had his classic gotcha grin going )

Me: “ You’re on.”(To which we sealed with a handshake.)

Now I was never, by no means, shy on confidence. But this wager was starting to make me garnish butterflies. So over the next few months I looked for every opportunity to get to know this girl. It was very difficult at first. I mean , we are talking about a guy , who at sixteen , could cross the border driving a tractor trailer, and not even flinch when questioned by Customs.

So, too make a long story short, I did eventually ask her out on a date. That was December 4 1981. Thirty years ago today, we went to a dance at the Grand Bay Centrum , with what in my mind was the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on.

The rest you might say is history. We went together for a long time, till we eventually decided it was time to get married. And even though our wedding anniversary is in August, the date that will be forever be in my mind , is December 4^th.

In the past thirty years we have laughed and cried together. Raised three amazing children, and weathered many challenging times together. The hardest for me , was having to watch the women that I love, battle breast cancer. This really hit me hard, for there was nothing I could do, but give her love and support.

Even now I find that my love for her keeps growing, despite the fact that I do not always deserve her love in return. So my prayer is that we will always be together, until the day when God calls one of us home.

There is so much more that could be said, but just two words come to mind as I write this: “ No regrets”

P.S. I still have yet to collect that twenty, but I figure I won way more than I deserved anyways.....

Beware the memories of March

 

Well another memorable March has come and gone. It is a month that is filled with mixed feelings for me . I always remember, when I was younger it was the month that my Grandfather Ogden was born. I remember the birthday dinners, listening to the stories about his life growing up, and thinking he had to be the oldest person I knew on this earth. If he were still here, he would have been 110 on the 28^th.

It is the month that I first drove tractor trailer, much to the chagrin of my mother, as I was not even old enough to get a driver’s license. I can still hear my fathers deep laugh, as my mother was raking him over the coals for that stunt. Every March after that, my father would always look at me and say “ Beware the ides of your mother.”

March is also the month for me to remember lives lived, as both of my parents passed away in this most memorable month. Mom passed away March 3^rd 2006, and Dad, one year and fifteen days later, in 2007.

But one of the most memorable, next to the day I met Sherry, was the birth of my first born. It was Easter Sunday, March 31^st, and I can still remember every sound, sight, and even smell, like it was yesterday. No video camera can capture the details that your memory can, when it comes to those occasions.

 This March new memories were tucked away in that little corner of my mind, as we drove to Ontario, to surprise our first born, on her special day. We were there for nineteen of them, and we were not going to miss this one. So we packed up the car and headed for Ontario. With the help of our very dear friends, the Hermack’s, it was a total success. She was expecting a small diner on her birthday at Yolanda and Keith’s, and learned to what extent a family would go to celebrate the one day a year meant to be memorable.

                On the sixteen hour drive home, at night, I had plenty of time to think about the past March’s and pray that each one of my children would cherish all of their memories, both the good and the bad. For me, this one will be remembered for a long time.

                Yes, good or bad, March is about memories for me.

Moving On

It has now been 7 days, 8 hours, 23 minutes, 57 seconds since my “baby” girl has left to go to Ontario, but who’s keeping track. Although life will be a little different around here, with no one to debate (argue) with me about the little things in life. It now leaves me with only two at home, who will have to now bear the brunt of their fathers teasing and harassment.

                But wait, alas, there be the internet matey! Now you too can embarrass your kids from afar. With the internet you can tweet, blog, and make those annoying comments on their Facebook. As a parent, that is our eternal right. Don’t get me wrong, it is much more fun in person, but we as parents have to take advantage of every opportunity that arises to annoy our children. I mean, isn’t that what parenting is about, telling them what to wear, embarrassing them with the things we say to their friends, and so on.

                I will admit that I tried to keep my opinion about this move mostly to myself, most of the time. There were still some things that a father has concerns and trepidation with, like will they get enough to eat, will they be warm enough, and other assorted things, we as parents tend to delve on.

                But once we arrived at her newfound destination, all of my concerns had pretty much vanished from my subconscious. I was content, for the lack of a better word, with the situation and new surroundings that my oldest will now call home.

                It really is different this time, as there are so many ways to keep in touch, like texting and e-mail. We probably text more now, than we ever did, and when we do, it is more like they are just in town running errands. Visits home will be how I should say, more special? The way I see it, we as parents take it for granted, when our kids are still under our roof, that they will always be there.

                I was once asked by a coworker, how it feels to have a child leave the nest. I asked them how old their oldest child was. They replied nine. My answer to them was, ask me that question in another ten years. It then dawned on me that, they are not children anymore, they are young adults. And I, like my parents before me, have to let them find their own place in this world.

                So without ranting on anymore, I will close by, first apologizing to my oldest, for the nature of this post. But I will not, under no circumstance, apologize for the deep affection that I have for her. May God bless her and keep her in all of her endeavors.

With love forever from a sentimental old Dad