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Author: Tucker

It’s my party and I can plan it if I want to

It’s my party and I can plan it if I want to

This year marks my 50th trip around the sun. It’s a milestone birthday for most people in general but in January it will be 8 years since I got diagnosed with PLS, so it’s a little more special to me. Since PLS is a disease of exclusion, one of the things they can’t exclude is ALS. So for people like me, they are given a temporary diagnosis of PLS until a> they can confirm lower motor neuron involvement; or b> you get past the 5-7 year mark where they are more confident that it is PLS[1]. So like I said: a milestone.

So for my 50th birthday I wanted to have a BIG party and I wanted to invite all of the amazing friends & family who have supported me over the past 8 years. I wanted to rent a venue, have it catered, get the world’s most delicious donuts instead of cake, and hang out with lovely folks.

And I got my wish. I got my wish because I planned the entire goddamn thing myself!

Now, when folks learned that I was turning 50 this year, so many of them asked me, “Is Mr. Tucker planning anything for your big day?” It’s a natural thing to ask given that the expectation is that for special milestone events someone is supposed to plan it for you and if at all possible, it should be a surprise. But I have always felt that this expectation doesn’t play to people’s strengths and at best leads to disappointment and at worst, anger and resentment.

Mr. Tucker is a lot of things: a wonderful husband and father, to be sure. He cooks almost all of our meals. He will run errands. He will wash, fold and put away all of the laundry. He is a man who will not leave a kitchen dirty overnight and he always makes sure the coffee is set up for the next morning. He will see that the floors are covered with dog hair and will just vacuum them. He even gave me the loveliest (and unexpected) Eiffel Tower proposal[2]. But I will tell you what he is bad at: finances and planning. Those are my wheelhouse.

I have long believed that the road to relationship ruin is paved with unfair expectations (usually promoted by some cultural trope we should have long left in the dust). I know that Mr. Tucker is wonderful in many ways. I also know that is absolutely shit at party planning. Had we gone along with the expectation that if he rEaLlY lOvEd Me he’d plan a banger of a birthday bash, we both would have been left miserable and disappointed. Why would I do that to both of us when I could just…plan the party I wanted, get exactly what I wanted and then if things fell apart, I’d only have myself to blame?

So that’s what I did!

My Dad booked the venue for me because he is a member of the club where we held it and he got a deal on the location.

My stepson is a chef and he catered the entire party full of new recipes he was trying.

I ordered donuts AND I booked a photobooth with the idea that I would put together a book for myself to remind me of the night. People got the photos sent to their phones in real time, which was also a fun thing for them to have.

Mr. Tucker picked up the decorations, the plates/cutlery (compostable) and did all of the tech support for the music, lights and microphone.

To get the various folks in my life out of their shells and mingling with each other, I created a HUMAN SCAVENGER HUNT. The key was that you had to answer with someone who you don’t know and that you couldn’t put down the same name twice. It was full of questions such as:
– Find the person who travelled the furthest to be here
– Find someone who has worked with me
– Find someone who works in the same field as you
– Find someone I went to high school with
– Find someone who works as a lawyer (ok, I know a lot of lawyers – sue me, I am covered!)
– I have travelled to over 25 countries. Find someone who has travelled to more.
Honestly, the game was an absolute riot! Some friends dove right in and embraced it while others were way too apprehensive but were still approached by others. I offered four prizes (done by draw) and I would 100% do this game again.

About 80 people came and it filled my heart to see all of these amazing folks in the same room together. It’s also a bit of a downside because I couldn’t speak to people as much as I wanted but I knew that would be one of the trade-offs for having a large event.

All in all, the party took me two days to recover from because it left me so exhausted (motor neurons being easily frazzled after all). But it was 100% worth it. As a bonus, one of my oldest and dearest friends flew in from Pittsburgh for the weekend and we got to spend a ton of time together. So many people travelled a distance to come to the party in general that it made me feel amazing to have such great friends.

Overall, I got exactly what I wanted, my marriage stayed intact and I look forward to not planning another large event for another 10 years!

In the esteemed words of Fleetwood Mac: you can go your own way![3]

[1] ”But…but…but I once heard of someone getting diagnosed after 20 years! You could get diagnosed at any time!” Sure, there are always going to be outliers who buck the trend. Also, of course, no one can name this person but they’ve HEARD online it so it must be true. This is why I have generally why I don’t go into online support communities: it’s rife with drama and low quality info.

[2] It was such a shocker to me that tbqh it’s probably a get-out-of-jail-free card for the rest of his life. I am difficult to surprise.

[3] OFC this was also on my playlist!

Christmas gifting rules

Christmas gifting rules

A relative used to say this all of the time when I was growing up. She didn’t invent it, I don’t know where she originally got it from but it’s guided my gift-giving habits. I thought it may be useful for you as well:

Something they want,
Something they need,
Something to wear,
something to read.

Hope that helps. Stay sane out there!

The Big Dirt Nap

The Big Dirt Nap


“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a burial plot.” – Me, with apologies to Jane Austen

Once the dust had settled on the condo closing we turned our attention to other things. The priority – since our life circumstances had changed – was to update our wills to reflect the fact that we no longer owned Balconville. We also needed to update the executors and since The Eldest turns 18 in March, we wanted something that would acknowledge that she will be a legal adult. The next priority? Pre-planning our funerals.

I guess I am a pragmatic person and while I do have a lot of superstitious thoughts rolling around my head (“Great! Watch us now die in a fiery wreck on our way home!”) my more practical inclinations tend to win out. My logic here was to prevent the kids from having to scramble to make arrangements for us under duress. If we pre-planned and pre-paid, then the kids would know down to the letter what our wishes are. Our final gift to them would be removing that burden. This way, the choices were already made and they just have to show up to the celebration of life with some sandwiches.

Location, location, location!
I used to imagine that I would be buried alongside my maternal line in the east end of the city. It is an old cemetery full of history and many of my family members are buried there, including my grandmother who I was incredibly close to. But when I sat down and thought about it, since I am estranged from that side of the family it made more sense to create new traditions and let the past be the past. Also, it is a Catholic cemetery and while I was raised in that faith, Mr. Tucker was raised in the United church and while he didn’t care either way (“Why would I care! I’ll be dead!”) it felt weird to me to make him go to a place that reflected more of my history than it did our shared life together. So, Mr. Tucker and I made the decision to strike out on our own and choose our final resting place to reflect the area we spent most of our lives in. We ended up choosing a place closer to our home, in a nondenominational cemetery.

Both Mr. Tucker’s parents and my patrilineal side have plots (at what once was…) out of town, on the edge of the city. It is also nondenominational (scandalously – my father’s parents were of different faiths, so when they got married only one Catholic priest in the city would agree to marry them!) but alas, it is way too far out of town. It’s also a super inconvenient spot to get to and quite frankly, should the kids end up moving out of the city I want them to be able to come back and visit our graves close to the area they grew up in. They may not even visit our graves but I still wanted to make it as convenient as possible. Conversely, I have a friend who bought plots in the country, nearby to where her father grew up because the area is important to her. We all have a different thought process for our final resting place and there are no wrong answers.

The process
To be fair, neither of us have ever planned a funeral or purchased a plot before so when I reached out to the Remembrance Service company, we agreed to meet up to discuss. There is a lot that goes into planning your BIG DIRT NAP but most falls into two categories: the arrangements and the plot itself. Both can be as simple as you’d like or as complex as you’d like depending on your personal tastes and your budget.

We met up on a weekday to discuss our plans with a Funeral Director named Michelle. I have to say, she was incredible. There is this notion that somehow all funeral homes are out to squeeze as much money out of you as possible but this couldn’t be further from our experience. Most places have their pricing listed right on their website so you can comparision shop fairly easily. In fact, once we had the basics down, she gave us the simplest option as possible for a cremation: two urns, a small headstone and a Celebration of Life. We could have gone with a flat plaque or a pillow style of marker but I did want a headstone that was upright.



A pillow is on an angle, a bit off the ground


A plaque is directly on the earth

The services and the service
Mr. Tucker and I don’t want an elaborate religious service so we opted for a two hour Celebration of Life where family and friend could come pay their respects. The internment itself would be limited to family afterwards. The entire process from picking up the body, to dealing with remains to the service is $6336.63 per person and is broken down by the following choices:

The taxes excluded portion
$895 – Staff/Professional Services
$400 – Administration
$575 – Transport
$475 – Documentation
$395 – Shelter
$700 – Reception
$425 – Visitation Staff
$685 – Basic Urn
$5147.15 (4555 +592.15 taxes)

Taxes all-in portion
$52.28 – Municipal Death Registration Fee
$75 – Coroner’s Fee
$1062.20 – Cremation
1189.40
$6336.55 – Grand total for the services for both of us

Plotting our forever home



“Oooh! We get cremated in a pine box!” Nick said.
“Not even,” Michelle countered. “It’s fiberboard.”
“Works for me!” he said.

Originally when Michelle priced it out, she did the cheapest area with a headstone which was my requirement as Mr. Tucker had no opinion (“Why would I care! I’ll be dead!”) in a place called the Urn Garden. It sounded good to me and was placed up some lovely rock steps under a giant tree. It looked lovely in photos so it seemed like that was what we’d go with. Michelle encouraged us to go have a look when we were leaving to give us an idea of how the layout was. The plot itself had space for two urns and was approximately $11000 bringing the total to a little over $23000 for both of us.

When the meeting ended, we left the main building we headed up to the Urn Garden to have a look at the space. It was a gorgeous area even in dark and dreary November. But there were two issues from my point of view that made it less than an ideal choice: the plots were so close together that you couldn’t even turn a wheelchair around, or even go and pay your respects without being right up against someone else’s gravestone. Finally – and this probably seems like a weird one to most people – the only headstone colour choices that were allowed here were pink and grey.

When I saw that, I balked. Mr. Tucker of course didn’t really care either way (“Why would I care! I’ll be dead!”) but I was unhappy. I wanted the option for a black headstone and to have a more traditional spacing for the plot. Also, I wanted to be as close to the end of a row as possible. I have memories of traversing the cemetery my family is buried in every year on Mother’s Day for years as we always forgot the locations of my grandmother and great-grandmother’s graves. I wanted it to be as easy to find as possible.


We went home and emailed Michelle and asked her for other options. She got back to us with pricing for three traditional plot options we could look at and we made an appointment for the following week to go drive around the cemetery to look at them.

I want to be clear – there are MUCH cheaper options available from a Remembrance Wall to just taking the ashes home with you and spreading them somewhere. But I did want something a little more traditional which is why we started at the Urn Garden. You could bring this far under the prices I am quoting here.

The next step up were traditional plots which had the option for two caskets/four urns or six urns. You could get whatever 30×30 monument in whatever colour you wanted but the options started here at $21651 for the new section, $25493 for a middle section and $28092 for a plot in the older section of the cemetery.

As we drove around I noticed that all of the sections had decent options. Michelle would get out of the car with her giant laminated map and stand outside where the headstones on various plots would be and then she’d indicate the size of the space. She was an absolute trooper doing this over-and-over again in the rain.



Michelle’s map of plots

Alas, channelling Goldilocks, I was dissatisfied with the first two options. The new section was right next to a parking lot and they were looking to expand the crematorium so we didn’t know what the future held for that section (too cold!). The middle section you’d have to hike around to the back and there weren’t many trees around so in the summer there would be no place to really get any shade (too hot!). Naturally, of course, the older section was juuuuuust right. There was a lovely plot right up on the top of the hill, at the end of a row, about 10 feet from the cemetery’s ring road and banked by trees at the foot of the plot (“The perfect place,” I thought to myself, “to put a bench up against the trees.”[1]). Mr. Tucker also weighed in at this point and said he didn’t want to be right next to a parking lot or a place devoid of trees. So as it turns out, he did care – at least a tiny bit – about his final resting place! He, too, preferred the older, treed section.

Here is the breakdown of the Goldilocks plot

Plot, burial and accessories
$10,080 – 2 grave lot side by side
$6,720 – Care and Maintenance (one-time fee)
$1,100 – Burial Fee for Urns $550 each
$6,000 – 30X30 Monument with base (Black)
$960 – Concrete Foundation for Monument
$28,091.80 Grand Total ($24,860 + $3,231.80 taxes) for the plot

All in, per person: $17214.18



So many options – and fabric options, too! You could really get cozy in there!

We went back to the office where she asked us what we wanted the headstone to say and what type of design and etching we wanted. It will come as no surprise that there are a plethora of options including etching photos with a laser right onto the stone. It’s a wee bit too uncanny valley/bad family tattoo for my tastes so we chose a more traditional option with some flowers down the sides and a plain font. She actually took a picture of the stone to attach to our file and then drew out how we wanted the writing to go, what we wanted it to say, and in what order and what style. I suppose it makes sense to plan the entire thing out, after all the point of pre-planning a funeral is to alleviate all of the decision-making from your loved ones while they are grieving.

What I learned
To be honest, I found the entire process to be fascinating and to be an absolute relief. It was the last nail in the coffin (har har) for us to move from this stage of our lives into the next one. Is it an eye-wateringly expensive endeavour to pre-plan it like this? Possibly. But I would rather do it now and get it over and done with. I just have to leave the kids one thing you cannot pre-plan: the catering for the Celebration of Life. It’s the one thing they don’t handle because it’s unpredictable.

Michelle did mention that they manage almost all of the administration for notifying the government about your death. She said that the industry started doing that when it was discovered that many widows were missing the deadlines for claiming the $2500 death benefit from CPP. You only have 6 months to claim it after a death and since historically many women didn’t touch finances or administration for their families, they were missing out on this money they absolutely could have used. So funeral homes took it over. Now they notify everyone: Service Canada (CPP/OAS/GIS), cancel your driver’s license, cancel your health card, as well as register the death, get the coroner’s release etc. Although this can vary, they provide surviving heirs 15 copies of the death certificate (with access to more as needed) for banking, insurance etc.

They also offer a 12-month, interest-free payment plan for both the Funeral Services and the Plot. We put a deposit down on the plot and took them up on this offer for the balance. When we pass, all the surviving spouse or relatives have to do is call the funeral home’s 24-hour line and they will set in motion all of the things we planned. There will be no difficult choices made out of guilt or assumptions about what like or don’t like – it’s all on file and it is all paid for (except the catering).

The money we pay today is held and invested by a third party company. So on one hand, we lock in at 2025 prices. On the other hand, could I probably have chosen to just invest it all and made more money and then just leave the kids detailed instructions? Possibly. People who try and optimize for every dollar will probably go this route. But with my luck I will die in a market downturn and the kids will struggle with getting the documentation they need to release the funds in order to pay for things. This is a classic example of my mantra: THROW MONEY AT THE PROBLEM. I think the lack of stress & worry will be worth any gains I could have made on this money. So for the next year we will replace the paying we typically have to pay for the mortgage/condo fees/insurance/taxes and transition that into a new piece of property: THE BIG DIRT NAP.


[1]Of course I priced it out. $3800.

Day talk/night talk

Day talk/night talk

Significance

Control of fire and the capacity for cooking led to major anatomical and residential changes for early humans, starting more than a million years ago. However, little is known about what transpired when the day was extended by firelight. Data from the Ju/’hoan hunter-gatherers of southern Africa show major differences between day and night talk. Day talk centered on practicalities and sanctioning gossip; firelit activities centered on conversations that evoked the imagination, helped people remember and understand others in their external networks, healed rifts of the day, and conveyed information about cultural institutions that generate regularity of behavior and corresponding trust. Appetites for firelit settings for intimate conversations and for evening stories remain with us today. (emphasis mine)

Embers of society: Firelight talk among the Ju/’hoansi Bushmen

Goodbye, Balconville

Goodbye, Balconville

If you have been here for awhile, you already know that I renovated a condo I own(ed) twice in the last 7 years, both times due to a relative absolutely mistreating the space. After the final renovation, we rented it out to a lovely couple who gave notice and moved on for work after a year of renting from us. Like I said, I never wanted to be a landlord and I lucked out with having great tenants (and I made a whopping $20 a month, so I wasn’t exactly a slumlord). After our tenants left though, we tried our hands at selling it again. We had the older floors ripped up and decided to go with polished concrete this time so keep with the loft look. I figured that the wood floors were harder to maintain as a rental so if we had to rent it again, it would be easier to go with a more durable floor choice.

We priced it low and surprisingly it sold a week after being on the market with a closing date at the end of that same month. What was interesting about the entire process of selling it was that it sucked out almost all of the nostalgia and goodwill I had towards Balconville. Despite having made some of the greatest memories from Mr. Tucker & I starting out our lives together in that space, it was apparent that it had become a burden. I wanted to close the door on that chapter of my life. Someone else can now make amazing memories in that space and enjoy what I believe is one of the better floorplans for a 1-bedroom condo in this city.

I don’t want to get into the nitty gritty of how stressful it was but it is done now and we are finally able to move on from that part of our lives. I am so glad that the process wasn’t drawn out – I don’t think I could have managed a prolonged closing. In the end, our tenant’s lease was up on September 30th, and the condo closed on October 31st.


The floors turned out beautifully. What a different a refresh makes!

For those of you who remember, this was the last thing on our list in order for Mr. Tucker to retire early. Not having the mortgage, condo fees, property taxes and insurance has been monumentally freeing for both of us. I think we both felt the weight lift from us as soon as we went in to sign the papers with the lawyer. We left the lawyer’s office feeling lighter and more free than we had felt in 7 years. It was the final thing we needed to do to move onto the last phase of our lives. We kept the memories but left the people who caused us so much pain behind. It was time to move on.

Of course, Mr. Tucker didn’t just waltz home and quit his job! He will work for as long as he can but his company has been circling the drain for a long time now and as they squeeze more out of employees layoff after layoff, it’s clear that the writing is on the wall. It’s nice to be in a position where we have options so he doesn’t have to take the first job that comes along because we are over-leveraged. So he will wait it out. He was one of the first people hired at that company and he says he wants to see it to the bitter conclusion.

In the end, we didn’t make bank on the sale of the condo. Essentially, I after all of the renovations we had to do, the closing costs, covering my butt for capital gains, putting some money away to top off our emergency fund, we had a wee bit left to put away for the children. But I’m not mad about it. The greatest thing about selling the condo was being able to take those expenses out of our budget and have the piece of mind that we don’t have to carry those costs should everything fall apart for us financially.

So au revoir Balconville! I will miss you but I don’t regret selling you.

I also imagine what my ancestors would think

I also imagine what my ancestors would think

“That the Wi-Fi stopped working the first night felt like a cosmic joke. You said you wanted to disconnect, I chided myself, panic rising in my throat as I uselessly refreshed a Chrome tab that stubbornly bore the same “No internet” message below a pixelated dinosaur. But wasn’t that the entire point? To avoid, as Jia Tolentino characterized it earlier this year, the ‘device that makes me feel like I am strapped flat to the board of an unreal present: the past has vanished, the future is inconceivable, and my eyes are clamped open to view the endlessly resupplied now?’

Burnout’s spin cycle in an age when one could theoretically be sustained by a nonstop parade of front-door deliveries of (truly) any conceivable desire is—how do I put this? — humiliating. I imagine some ancestor freshly arrived at Ellis Island, knee-deep in a slurry of animal remains inside a rancid meatpacking plant for 18 hours each day, being confronted with a discomfiting vision: It’s their distant progeny (me!) pacing around a climate-controlled apartment in sweatpants, mumbling about something called a podcast and bemoaning an endless barrage of electronic mail and voter registration and parking tickets and doctors who don’t know why you sporadically wake in the middle of the night to vomit, but it sounds like chronic stress. Would they get back on the boat, assessing that it wasn’t worth it after all to guarantee the future of such a weak-willed dilettante?”

– Katie Gatti Tassin, Babygirl, Girlbosses, and Economic Nostalgia

La plus ça change…

La plus ça change…

…plus c’est la même chose:

This video is 41 years old and we still have the same worries and fears today as when it was recorded. If you haven’t read Morgan Housel’s Same as Ever, I highly recommend it. It’s easy to think we are in unprecedented times but more likely we are in precedented times, just repeating themselves.

Mom freezer dinner

Mom freezer dinner

Like “girl dinner,” “mom freezer dinner” is when you eat the stuff that has languished in small amounts in large bags in the freezer. What did I eat?

3 pork and leek dumplings
2 chicken & vegetable potstickers
1 all-beef hot dog
2 chicken nuggets

Please bow your head in silence & pray for my digestive tract.