I had the pleasure of reading a story by an 8yr old this weekend. It was a pretty mature story. It also had a great message.

It went a little like this…

A woman wanted to buy flowers, she even went to the store to get them. She had no money and despite begging, the store owner refused to give her flowers.

She then went on to try to get work, so she could get money for flowers. Once again she was rebuffed. No job, no flowers. She tried everything.

Finally, she gave up. The next day she went to the mailbox and found a winning lottery ticket. She went and bought her flowers.

This was a pretty good story for me to read. I actually like something about myself and that is the fact I rarely if ever give up.

I think sometimes though, you need to give up. Let go. You can’t make something work by yourself. You can only accept so much responsibility and change so much. Eventually you need help, someone that believes in you and wants the same things you do. This could be a Business partner, teammate, friend, or partner in life.

If you look around and you are the only one trying, and you constantly feel empty it’s time to let it go. That’s not to say it may never happen but in all likelihood you’ll just be frustrated, hurt, and defeated.

Let it go. Give up.

Some say leave it to fate, for me it’s God. I found myself yelling at God this week. Everything seemed to be falling apart. Everywhere I turned was a mess. Rejection. Bad news. I wasn’t too rude, I just questioned the joys of following him.

Today I forced myself to go to church. Alone as always. It was perfect. It was my lottery ticket. I felt joy, peace and total acceptance of the things that had happened to me.

Once again I was looking for happiness in the wrong places. I needed to once again give up (myself) to be happy.

If you read this far thank you,

Tris.

I’m learning the hard way lately that there is little to no value in being “right”

I’m not saying I’m right often but the times I’m right, and felt like it was important to prove it never left me with a good feeling. Just because something is true, doesn’t mean it needs to be said; especially if it’s done in a way that humiliates or insults.

Does it really ever make anyone feel good to prove someone wrong? I’m sure there are instances but for the most part it just leaves your partner or friend feeling Stupid. Hurt. Embarrassed.

I’m willing to bet 90 percent of people’s arguments have nothing to do with the topic, and both parties just wish the other person saw them differently and valued them despite all their flaws.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but all I’ve ever wanted was my partner to think I was something. It never happened and I’m sure that’s exactly what I deserved. I have always been informed in clarity what I am not. And they are not wrong. But are they right?

I don’t understand why when we say we love people, those are the same people we hurt. You hurt the ones you love. Why? All I can come up with is I think everyone loves themselves more than those they say they love. Their feelings matter more than the person across from them. I have a vicious tongue when I’m hurt, and instead of just being hurt I need to strike back.

People that I know love me have absolutely destroyed me. Made me feel like nothing. Dirt. I know I have done this to people I love. Lots.

Afterwards I’m in shock, upset and disappointed in myself that I could so easily say something hurtful to someone I love.

I need to grow up and so does almost everyone I know. I watch kids and they behave in a far more responsible manner than your average adult. For me it’s just another symptom of the “me first” world we live in and honestly I’m fed up. Fed up with myself. I’m tired of judging and throwing stones. If I haven’t earned someone’s respect I’ll keep trying, and if I feel I have earned it, but am not getting it I will find the strength to walk away, this time without wreckage and pain in my wake. I’m tired of being right, but wrong.

If you read this far you have my condolences,

Tris

“All we can do is burn that Bridge when we get there.” I said.

The voice on the other end paused, then said, “I don’t actually think that’s the expression.”

“Oh” I replied, “That’s right, it’s cross that bridge when we get there.”

We laughed, because this person knows me better than anyone and we both knew that it wasn’t really a slip for me. I’ve approached life with a “burning bridge” mentality.

I have always struggled to let people in; To allow people to be close to me. Many many times I’d make a connection with people, only to blow it up as the relationship developed. I don’t know how to deal with that “connected” feeling.

It has always been easy for me to connect with a total stranger and talk about personal things. I used to call it “Two ships in the night”

Two ships, passing each other, going in opposite directions, sending a brief but warm salutation to each other knowing full well you’ll be miles apart in a short while. This was how I did life.

Where I really struggle is building on that and truly letting someone in. The reasons are many, and I could write a book trying to explain it but the truth is I can’t. I have always been a Lone Wolf.

Probably the biggest reason is I fear we all take each other for granted with familiarity. If someone makes an effort, it’s like we think less of them somehow. Everyone wants what they can’t have not what is right in front of them. Even if what’s right in front of them is something great. What’s that expression? “Familiarity breeds contempt.”

I don’t ask my friends over because I assume they don’t want to come. They have better things to do. I never ask my friends for help. In my relationships I always try to stay independent. I don’t want to “need” my partner. I want them to need me. It’s selfish. And it’s based in fear and low self esteem.

One way I handled this was to blow things up when I become “uncomfortable” I’d burn the bridge. Push them away. Distance myself. Manipulate the situation to make it untenable. Sabotage.

In my relationships I would distance myself till I felt them pulling away, then I’d reach out to bring them back. Then the old feeling would come and I’d shut down again. It was brutal.

I’ve burned a thousand bridges. Most of them unfixable. I was a Master at it.

Lately though I’ve felt a change. For the first time in my Life I was alone and free to do whatever I wanted. I was happy. But I kept thinking it was a bit empty. I wanted to share things and there was no one to share them with. I’m learning that I can be me, and be connected. I don’t have to sacrifice who I am to be connected to a partner. I’m hopeful I can be different. I’m hopeful I can see myself as worthy of another’s attention and love. To trust it.

I will always be fiercely independent, but I want to let others be there for me. I want to be able to be part of a giving and taking relationship. I want to be connected. I want to be present.

So what I hope to one day be able to say to the voice on the other end is this, “We will build that bridge together when we get there, and cross it together.”

If you read this far, thank you.

Tris

My kids are getting older, and as expected they are becoming independent of their Dad. This is normal but I find myself alone more than I’m used too.

YouTube has become my latest companion. I’ve spent countless hours watching everything from fail videos to funny animal clips. But something started to happen. I took the click bait and started watching political pundits spread division and fear. I told myself I was keeping it balanced, because for every right wing pundit I’d listen to I’d find one on the left.

The Young Turks, Tucker Carlson, Joe Rogan, Rachel Madow, Ben Shapiro and on and on. Both sides spreading fear and intolerance, the intolerance was just pointed at each other. It was addictive.

It got to the point where everyone fell into one of two categories. Right or Left. Ridiculous. As if someone couldn’t be an individual with their own ideas, some conservative some liberal.

It was starting to affect me. I am sure there are real concerns for both sides but I was starting to see ghosts. If nothing else, American politics and the fact Justin Trudeau is seemingly clueless made little difference to my personal life.

YouTube tailors it’s page based on what you have watched in the past. I was embarrassed one day to see almost everything on my page was a negative political heading.

I decided this needed to change so I turned to music. I went on a musical journey with the help of a great friend of mine that has a passion for music. Long before I had heard of the movie about his life I had watched every Freddie Mercury video I could find, watching his Live Aid performance more times than I can count. I learned to appreciate the Blues, Ben Harper in particular. I’d fall asleep to some of my favourite music.

George “no show”Jones singing about “Choices”

Patti Loveless singing “Here I am”

U2 performing “Where the Streets have no name” on a rooftop.

A friend of mine singing “My kind of Radio”

Meat Loaf as a young man belting out “Paradise by the Dashboard light”

It’s amazing. A front row seat to all my favourite musical performances of the last few decades all right there. Now instead of links like “Ben Shapiro owns Socialist” or “Trump supporter humiliated” I see ticket stubs for musical journeys of all genres; for the present and the past.

I don’t care about politics anymore. We are all being played and divided. I’m sure people are profiting off it but it’s serving no useful purpose.

It’s 1:34 in the morning as I write this. I am going to go back to 1977. It’s a place I’ve gone to at least a hundred times. A young brunette is singing on a live British television show. She’s wearing a blue sleeveless floral print dress. She has arm guards on that match her dress, she’s playing a large black guitar. Attached to her guitar is a white strap with letters that spell her name, EMMYLOU. She’s singing “Making Believe”. Rodney Crowell on her right, and Albert Lee on her left.

If you read this far, Thank you.

The following is a letter I’d write to my sister who barely lived..

Hi Sarah,

It’s your older brother Tristram. I don’t think we even met but I often think of you. Mostly because my older sisters, Esme in particular, never listen to me like they should and I’m sure you would’ve.

You didn’t stay long hey? You made an appearance and left. You missed some bad but you really missed a lot of good. I am certain you are with our Mum, and perhaps she’s filled you in about us all but I will give you my lowly, earthly perspective.

Jason.. Your oldest brother. The most loyal. Loyalty means everything to him. He likes to collect things, we might need to remind him he can’t bring his shop up there. He can make you anything from fine furniture to bourbon whiskey. He’s a perfectionist and good at everything he does. But I think that the greatest thing about your brother is if you were in serious trouble he’d drop everything to come to your aid, and give you the shirt off his back.

Austin..We had two athletes in the family. Austin was one of them. He’s a walking dichotomy. Fearless but sensitive, unpredictable. He’s a rebel and always ready to stand up for the underdog. But I think that the greatest thing about your brother is if you were in serious trouble he’d drop everything to come to your aid, and give you the shirt off his back.

Samantha..Your oldest sister is simply amazing. She was dealt some tough cards, and she plays the hell out of them. With a level playing field she would be running the world right now. In many ways, she’s our glue down here. In her own way she keeps us all connected. She deserves far more than she’s been given and I trust you are overseeing the construction of her mansion in heaven. But I think that the greatest thing about your oldest sister is if you were in serious trouble she’d drop everything to come to your aid, and give you the shirt off her back.

Natalie..Nat is simply an angel. A fallen and wayward angel at times but all Cottier’s are. I would suggest to you to never eat her quiche though; And her chocolate chip cookies have no chocolate. But she has done more to help others than all of us. She has a gift, she can teach and connect with people that everyone else gives up on. I think she is the other athlete in our family. But I think that the greatest thing about your sister is if you were in serious trouble she’d drop everything to come to your aid, and give you the shirt off her back.

Esme..What you need to know about Esme is she can’t drive. She’s a maniac. It’s really lucky after receiving “lessons” from her I didn’t meet you earlier up there. Beyond that she’s one of my heroes. She wouldn’t know that but she is. She adores her family and provides for them all. She forgives everyone and doesn’t hold grudges. But I think that the greatest thing about your sister is if you were in serious trouble she’d drop everything to come to your aid, and give you the shirt off her back.

Nathan.. If heaven has a safety department he will be going next door. He’s had it with rules down here and will jump off a roof himself soon if he can’t just do things the way he wants. God knows he’s earned it. Nathan has always come running for me. He’s unbelievable. He has a way of doing you a favour, and then he thanks you for letting him do it. He’s 1-1m. But I think that the greatest thing about your brother is if you were in serious trouble he’d drop everything to come to your aid, and give you the shirt off his back.

Caleb..The brains of the family. I can’t even beat him at word games after 20 tries. The world bores him so he sets about to make it more interesting which in turn causes him great stress. No one makes me laugh like him and ever since he was a kid he’s always made me feel like I was something. When someone as smart as Caleb tells you you are ok, you take it to heart. But I think that the greatest thing about your brother is if you were in serious trouble he’d drop everything to come to your aid, and give you the shirt off his back.

William..Your Dad. The most honest man on the planet. He loves Jesus and gambling. As I age I see him in myself and it no longer scares me. He has never interacted with anyone on the planet in which he did not give more than he took. He wouldn’t cheat anyone of .05 cents to save his life. He might spend his last .05 cents on a bet tho! But the greatest thing about your Dad is, if you were here, he would be the reason why the greatest thing about you would be if any of us were in serious trouble you’d drop everything to come to our aid, and give us the shirt off your back

Say hi to Mum, we will all see you soon. If there’s a white wolf running around up there grab him. His name is Taiko and he’s mine.

Love Tris,

If you read this far Thank you.

Few things bring me peace. I have a chaotic mind that never stops. I’ve been diagnosed as being Bipolar, or as it used to be called, Manic Depressive. It’s really hard, really hard. Balance is very hard for me to achieve, and I constantly struggle to be present. This has been very hard on all my relationships. Even my kids, whom I adore above all, will tell you how hard it is to deal with.

I’ve been medicated for it many times. Everything from Paxil to Cypralex. Alcohol, my favourite symptom reliever, makes me the happiest guy in the world. But as we all experience, I pay a heavy price the following weeks. If you give me one drink I might be ok, give me 2, and you better start hiding every drop of alcohol you have in your house.

In the last few years, I’ve all but quit drinking entirely. I’m no longer taking any pills. I’ve found new ways to control my imbalance. They are Swimming and Flying.

When I swim, I’m submerged. This sensation calms me. There’s a very simple task and you have to do it or you’ll sink. No decisions to make, no way to complicate it. You move your arms, breathe and follow a line. Every time I come out of the pool healthier than I went in.

Flying. This is the one that brings me joy. An emotion I rarely feel. Pure joy. Every time I push the throttle in and start rolling, I’m smiling. When I leave the ground and start to climb, I’m happy. I leave all my problems on the ground.

Everything looks small from the air. Everything seems possible. Sometimes I land at a quiet airport and just sit on the grass. Small Airports are usually tranquil places. When I wasn’t current, I would drive to small aerodromes and walk around.

It’s also a good hobby for me, there’s lots of things to keep my mind busy. Pressure Altitudes, density altitudes, crosswind components, drift, true course, magnetic course, indicated air speeds to calibrate and then calculate true airspeed. You can sit at a table, get the winds aloft, and with a protractor and a pencil draw a wind triangle in seconds that will visually show you how to correct for wind. Basic simple Gr 4 math used in a very cool way.

But mostly, when I fly, I sense greatness. For me it’s God, for others it’s Mother Nature. It helps me put my life and myself in perspective. Through my eyes, I have a clear view of the world, and the realization that most of the time I choose to only focus on myself inspires me to forget myself and enjoy the view.

I’m a low time pilot. I fly the lowliest plane out there. It’s a Cessna 150. It’s not my own, I’m a member of a very cool Flying club. But when I’m flying I feel even less than that. I feel like a speck, insignificant, that’s why I love it.

If you read this far thank you,

Tris

We all have friends. But most have only a few people that we truly can count on to be there no matter what.

Today’s blog is about Sean. Sean is one of the most dynamic people you will ever meet. I had the pleasure of meeting him in the Winter of 1995. He was fresh from the coast. He joined our crew having left home with nothing, leaving his family and a girlfriend that had broken his heart behind. He was 20, I was 21.

We had a lot in common, both from large families, both broke; We didn’t drink or do drugs like everyone else on the crew, we instantly became friends. A fun night for us was scrounging around for loose change, walking to the Marlborough theatre, and catching a 2$ movie often at the expense of food.

Seam was and is the hardest working guy I’ve ever met. On top of that he was the most ambitious. I have memories of him working in -25 with a t shirt on, running around carrying lumber. We didn’t try to meet girls, we couldn’t buy them anything and usually we had no money for gas. We certainly never had clean clothes. Neither of the rooms we rented had access to laundry. We would listen to Red, a fellow worker brag about all the wild times with girls he had as we’d sit there looking over the Calgary Sun for movie times.

I remember driving down Memorial Drive in the rustiest S10 truck you could imagine, two girls in a small sports car pulled up beside us. They motioned to me to roll my window down. Still kind of shocked that these girls wanted to talk to us I did nothing.

“Roll your window down!” Sean said.

But as I tried, the handle broke. I held up the broken handle and showed it to the girl. She laughed and sped off. Me and Sean looked at each other and burst into laughter. This was always our luck.

Over the years we worked together on and off. When I started my first framing crew with my Brother as a partner, Sean helped us get on our feet, often sacrificing his own plans to be there for us.

We had a falling out in our late twenties. I can’t even remember why, like always, it was over something stupid, I know I was in the wrong.

A few years passed, Sean phoned me and invited me to his wedding. I was asked to stand for him. Anyone that knows me knows I’m not the most reliable person to show up to an event. I remember waking up one morning with the feeling I had missed something. I asked my partner to check the fridge and tell me the date of Sean’s wedding. It was that day and I was a province away.

I was pretty sure that was the end of our friendship, till my doorbell rang and Sean with his new wife Elle were standing there. They took time to come see me, on their honeymoon. That is unbelievable to me. Humbling.

Years later a recession wiped him out. He had built an amazing Home Building Company but no one was surviving this recession (2006) who wasn’t backed by serious money. Sean came to work with me. He was away from his family, kids, working for peanuts with me. There was no way we could ever earn enough to get him out of the hole he was in.

One day at work he’d had enough and snapped. I decided we needed to go for lunch and regroup. On our way to lunch he tried to clear the window with washer fluid. It didn’t work. This was the final straw, he ripped the indicator off the steering wheel, wound down his window and threw it out. “What’s left to go wrong” he yelled at God, “I can’t take anymore!” We sat there for a second in silence as we drove, then a humming sound began as the pump started spraying the windows. Sean reached for his indicator arm to wipe the windows…. I snickered, the indicator arm was laying in the road behind us. Again, we burst into laughter.

If you’ve ever watched the movie “Into the Wild” you’ve met Sean.

He’s crazy. In the time I’ve known him he’s earned and lost fortunes, disappeared into the North for a summer, jumped onto a ranch in Montana, he has jumped out of airplanes in Cowboy boots and coveralls. He has willingly put himself within feet of grizzly bears, plays poker like he does life, All in. All the time. He’s not afraid to risk it all, he will do it without a second thought. If he fails, he just rolls up his sleeves and starts again. He recently wrote a book, the last I heard it was selected to be published.

We’ve been friends for 25 years. I know we will be friends for 25 more. I owe him a lot. By then he might be homeless, or he could be worth millions. The thing about Sean is whether he’s on top or starting over, he is always the same guy. Sean will give you his last 5$ if he thought you wanted it. Through the years we are always a province apart. Neither of us will ever retire, so my hope is one day we will be two old men, working together again. We will be building something cool together, laughing.

If you read this far, thank you

Tris

Thanksgiving is one of my favourite holidays. It’s a very close second to Easter. Easter fills me with hope, and Thanksgiving reminds me of all the things I have been given.

This year was filled with things to be thankful for but this list will always begin with my two children.

Alastair. Hes 15, 5-11 tall. He’s extremely intelligent and organized. Handsome. I’m so lucky that he asked to live with me full time this summer. I had an amazing summer with him. Together we shingled roofs, managed projects, watered flowers and all in all had a great summer. He makes me laugh all the time.

Brooklyn.  12 years old, nearly 5-6. She’s beautiful, smart and talented. We go on many many drives together, making each other laugh. We watch a lot of tv together. My favourite thing is listening to her pick at her guitar as she creates a new song. She’s a very gifted artist.

Im thankful for so many things, too many to mention. My health, home, family, friends, flying, work…. So much. With just the slightest effort I can look around and find so many people who have less. I’ve been abundantly blessed more than I deserve.

One thing I’m thankful for is writing. I’m not a polished writer. I wasn’t highly educated, I don’t get things like grammar/spelling right. I have had private messages from some amazing people telling me they enjoy it. Some have even said It helped them in some way. That’s very humbling.

I just want to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving. A Loving and warm time. A moment in time filled with reflection and forgiveness. Especially forgiveness. The greatest gift you can give someone is forgiveness; If you feel you have been given a lot, forgive someone. The beauty of it is when we do this, we are just rewarded further.

So, with this in mind I will choose to forgive the Edmonton Oilers for ruining my thanksgiving weekend.

If you read this far thank you,

Tris

 

 

 

 

“Dad, your drivel is so sad” my daughter says.

Dammit. She’s right. I have a tendency to dwell in low places. So I hope to go in a slightly different direction. I’d like to talk about a foundational belief I have that is absolutely unshakeable. Almost all of my relationships are with people who share this belief.

Its simply this, that the best of us are disguised in this life under a cloak of strife and struggle.

That the people we worship and reward may be great but the greatest amongst us are not the sports heroes or rock stars. These people have God given abilities. In a Capitalistic world we tend to value people by measures like net worth, home size and location or the car they drive.

I have spent a lifetime finding Kings in low places. I’d like to talk about a couple of them. I won’t use their real names.

Carl: I love to swim. Every week I swim 3-6 times. My daughter taught me all the strokes. Even the complicated butterfly. But I’ve never had the courage to try the butterfly stroke when there is other swimmers. This was when I met Carl. Carl has some cognitive disabilities that makes him socially awkward. He does not have the hand eye coordination an average person has. I was sitting on the pool deck when he jumped in.  I watched as his arms and chest popped out of the water and he dove back in with a dolphin kick executing an awful but awe inspiring butterfly. He pounded out 75 meters before he stopped. I have never been so inspired by an athlete. I felt like I had just witnessed something great and indeed I had. From that moment on, no matter how bad I do it, I always try a lap in butterfly. I look awful and don’t care, it feels amazing and it’s thanks to Carl. I’ve watched in person almost all the great hockey players from Gretzky to Mcdavid. Carl’s butterfly was greater. Inspired me more. We talk all the time now. Whenever I’m scared to try something I think of Carl and do it.

Richard: I met Richard in a bar just outside of Kelowna. We talked all night long. I hung onto his every word, everything he said had substance. He was the smartest guy I have ever spoken with. We talked about all the great things in life. Love, family, Integrity. I’d buy a drink he’d buy a drink. His wife had passed awy a few years ago and his kids had moved on. We eventually were kicked out, it was past closing time. It was only then did I realize his situation..

“Well Tristram, I better go to my room.”

”Where’s your room?”

he shrugged and pointed to the ditch.

“I’ll buy you a room” I said thinking  of all the drinks he’d bought me, advice he’d given me.

“No” he replied, “one night in a room will make all the other nights in the ditches colder”

We chatted further, he had started on the East Coast and was walking across Canada, had been homeless for months. He called weeks later and left a message, he said how much he enjoyed meeting me. The pleasure was all mine. I live by his words to this day.  I’ve never met anyone like him since. That night I drank with a King.

I can tell you hundreds of interactions I have had like this. I seek them out. I can find them every where. Like water, the best of humanity is right in front of our noses while we glorify people who have things. Hard times build strength and character. So I just look for those that have been dealt the  2/7 off suit hand of life. These people do life with an unassuming manner and are  devoid of ego and arrogance. They are often intelligent beyond belief. I’ve had far more intelligent conversations with homeless people than I’ve had in other social settings.

The best of us feel too much, hurt too much. They will often try to ease their pain in destructive ways.  They give till they hurt and then they give some more. They often self destruct. They are originals. Kings and Queens in our midst.

Its intolerable to me how we have cast aside these people as a society. We read garbage books like the “secret” that tell us what we deserve and how it’s ok to have everything while others struggle. By all means work hard and have goals, but stop looking down on those without as if they didn’t try, weren’t positive enough. In all likelyhood they are smarter, funnier and could outwork you. It’s just somewhere along the line life took something from them and they don’t have what it takes to get it back at the moment.

While I believe strongly in hard work and personal responsibility what I loathe about Capitalism is it breeds this attitude that somehow if we work hard we are more deserving. We forget about the sick, the wounded and struggling. We judge anyone that is struggling, its such bullshit.

It is my firm belief one day these people will get the credit they deserve. We will walk into heaven, and the man and woman that had nothing, will be given everything. In my heaven these people will lead us. I think it’s one of the most beautiful things in life. The simple fact that GREATNESS is around us, it is humble, accessible, and often serving us under our noses. Look down and you’ll see the greatest people in the World.

Beggars will be Kings.

 

 

If you read this far thank you,

Tris

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From 1990 to 2006 I was a Framer. Pain and depression left me no choice but to quit. I’ve tried my best to capture how I felt during the winter months. This is a tribute to some heroes of mine who do this everyday still. They are Nathan, Caleb, Matt, Sean and Ellie and all the other men and women who brave cold Canadian winters to provide for those they love.

“The first thing He hears is the wind gusting. As the gust hits it’s peak, it’s turns almost violent. A short burst, followed by brief silence and then an increasing whistling sound, leading up to the next gust.

This is the sound of hell. His mind quickly goes to the home he is framing. Are the walls braced? Did he stand any trusses?  Was the wind bringing snow or freezing rain? He looks at his clock, it’s 2:00 AM. He tries to go back to sleep but the sleep is fitful as anxiety has gripped his body. Teeth clenched, toes curled. There is no true rest now.

The alarm goes off. It’s 6:00 now. Time to face a daybreak he’s dreaded for the last 4 hours. As he slips out of bed he feels the pangs from injured body parts. Knees. Back. Everything really. The dirty clothes he threw off yesterday are in a pile close to his bed; he slowly puts them on layer by layer.

A cold blast hits his face as he leaves the warmth of his home. After scraping his windshield he starts his truck. It’s coffee time and he heads to the nearest drive through. The heat from the coffee is the first good thing to happen to him since he first heard the wind haunt him in the night.

Its -15, much colder with the windchill. No one can blame him for sitting in his truck as the clock ticks  past the planned start time. It takes all the discipline he has to get out of his warm truck. Instantly his body is chilled. He knows the only way to stay warm is to work hard and so he starts rolling out tools as fast as he can.

Hoses and chords unroll, nailers get plugged in and lumber gets carried into place. Of course it’s never that easy, a gun is frozen and he solves his first problem presented to him on this cold miserable day.

As the day gets underway the sun rises and the work starts to get done; his mood slowly improves. His body is warm. There’s a high you get when you fight through things and succeed. Not unlike a runners high. He fights the wind, cold and snow all day, breaking for a lunch here and a coffee there. Carry, mark, cut, carry again and place and nail. It’s bloody hard work but he’s done it for a decade, muscle memory makes it almost easy. Almost. His body won’t start protesting till he stops.

His mind can’t help but drift to his kids, his partner, his family. He’s so tired of going home exhausted. It’s hard to stay up past 9:00 pm. He knows his partner wants to go out more, get more done around the house. She wants a family trip. None of it sounds good to him, heaven would be a day off with no guilt; no money spent. A day with his kids without being physically and mentally exhausted would be nice.

The sun sets and the harsh cold returns. The work day is done. The house has taken a new shape. There’s a real satisfaction in that. Creating something with your hands is extremely rewarding.

He is ravenous, and eats his supper quickly. The inevitable fatigue and pain starts to set in.  He tells himself he will watch a show with his family, but he’s lying. He falls asleep, in his mind he is letting his family down.

He wakes up alone on a couch. He walks like a zombie to bed feeling like a failure. The wind and snow couldn’t break him but the sadness of feeling like he isn’t present enough for those he adores nearly kills him. He wants to cry but there is no point.

He falls into bed beside his sleeping partner. He notes he can’t hear the wind. Tomorrow could be better. God he hopes so.  He wishes she knew how hard it was and why he does it. It’s not flowers, it’s not romantic, but as sure as there’s a frozen hell its love.”

If you read this far thank you,

Tris.