Who’s the Turkey?

I am back in the saddle after a spell of drought caused by “technical difficulties”, a vague term that translates loosly into “severe mental anguish verging on dementia caused by computer malfunction”. The sweet guys at the “nerd department” of Big Daddy’s office have ordered me a new one (computer that is) and I get to toss this one into the briney. No love lost there…..

On a more positve note, it is Thanksgiving; the time we reflect on the things that truely matter in life and the time we are grateful for all the wonderful things we take for granted every other day of the year. Take Mad Max for instance.

WooHoo! Mad Max is the pet name of my wildly attention deficit, hyperactive son, fully grown now, but not necessarily grown up. “To the Max” was a title bestowed on him by a family friend. It captures his essence and reflects the way he lives his life – full tilt! Always the life of the party, dancing up a storm, charming and charasmatic; to the untrained eye it all looks great. But beware, he may not always be leaping in the right direction and picking up the pieces behind the scenes can be exhausting at best and dementing at worst.

ADHD is a well documented personality trait characterised by extreme forgetfulness, disorganization, impulsivity, distractibility and hyperactivity: but hear it from him. When asked what it feels like he answered that “it’s like being constantly bombarded by random thoughts” and being “unable to decipher the good ones from the bad ones”. I liken it to having his brain in a blender – with the switch turned ON! He was diagnosed in grade 11 when he ran across the road and was struck by a car. It could have been worse, he could have been seriously injured.

It can be exhausting to be caught up in the maelstrom that often surrounds him and hard to communicate the adventures that occur when his orbits collide. A “Mad Max tale” from Thanksgiving 2007 will set the tone.

Traditionally we spent the long weekend at our Whistler home. We went up as a family on the Friday night, had turkey dinner on Sunday night and drove home on Monday evening. As the kids grow older and have their own lives, they have their own agendas. That weekend, Max had things to do in town – “Don’t worry Mum, I’ll catch the bus up on Saturday night”. He got distracted by something else and phoned to say “Don’t worry Mum, I’ll catch the bus up on Sunday morning.” On Sunday morning he phoned to say “I missed the early bus but don’t worry Mum I’ll be up in time for dinner.” Such things always make me a little nervous as planning is not his forte. He finally made his way to the bus station and I got another call. “Mum, I don’t have enough money in my debit card to pay for the ticket”. “Ah” I thought to myself, “here we go”….”I’ll try to find someone to get some money to you. Where are you?” “I’m at the Greyhound bus station” came the answer. “Max, Greyhound doesn’t go to Whistler, you need to go to the Perimeter station. I’ll check their schedule and call you back.” “Mum, my cell phone is running out of charge. I’ll turn it off and call you back in a few minutes.” We call such moments “cluster-fucks”.


I was out walking in the Whistler trails at the time, the reds and golds of autumn leaves framing a tranquil view of the lake. A picture postcard moment perfectly captured here by William Kalwick, but I could feel my blood-pressure rising. I made a bee-line for home and as I crossed the busy sea-to-sky highway I noticed a Perimeter van pulled into a cul-de-sac. I could hardly believe my luck. Dodging cars, I streaked across the four lanes of traffic and almost leapt on the poor driver. “Well it is indeed your lucky day, I’m the district supervisor for Perimeter and I have a small private bus leaving from a downtown hotel in about an hour.” I gladly paid for the ticket (considerably more than the regular fare) and while he phoned the driver to inform him, I phoned Max to inform him. It felt so beautiful, so serendipitous. I had won! My beautiful son would be with us for thanksgiving dinner.

“Not so fast, lady” I might have heard the gods musing if only I had been listening to the heavens instead of wallowing in self-satisfaction.

I’ll give it to you quick and dirty. He made his way to the downtown hotel in time for the bus. His cell phone had died so he went inside the hotel to call me and let me know. He left his backpack outside. He came back to find it gone and presumed it stolen. (A security guard had in fact taken it to the lost and found office). In the time he tore around trying to locate his pack the bus arrived. It waited. It waited some more. It left.

And so it goes……..

What is it I give thanks for? I give thanks that my beautiful boy is alive and that he continues to inch forward in managing his condition. I give thanks for the beauty and joy that is my life. He has his challenges but this is HIM and I love him just the way he is.

On that note I will leave you with the following thought.


Cheers, I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

5 Responses

  1. Eric Lee Says:

    I finally decided to write a comment on your blog. I just wanted to say good job. I really enjoy reading your posts.

  2. patricia gray Says:

    Happy Thanksgiving to you Peg!

  3. Anonymous Says:

    such a talented writer and amazing mum.I could visualize the entire scene

  4. lori Says:

    How boring life would be without kids!!
    You have been blessed with a wonderful son. Enjoy!

  5. King Richards Says:

    It is hard to find good informative blog like yours I have some free pictures you might be able to use for your blogs. Let me know.

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