To Dream the Impossible Dream

It's been eighteen years since I've practiced law. That's right. Eighteen years.

Long time, no?

You see, I've always said I wouldn't go back to practice unless I could have just a "disability" practice.

In other words, not unless I could only take cases involving disability-related issues. But considering that most families with a disabled family member can't afford a lawyer and I figure that it will likely take Nova Scotia a good 20 years to get to the point where the government helps subsidize the cost of legal representation for families ... I just wasn't feeling the love.

But for the past year or so, I've been playing around with the idea of doing just that ... going back to the practice of law. No, I hadn't given up on what I really wanted or lowered my standards. Nor was the thought born out of desperation.

But I had finally come to realize (with a little bit of help from some friends) that I could use what I have been doing with the NS Legal Guardianship Kit and the presentations on disability-related topics as a springboard.

What if I went back to practice? Just on a part-time basis?

What if I could offer people the option of either purchasing the Guardianship Kit or hiring me to bring their guardianship application? Not only would my fees be significantly lower than the majority of lawyers' but I had also started to develop a reputation in the disability community. People were already asking if they could hire me to bring guardianship applications and I had to explain that no, I wasn't practicing.

So it was that I've been playing around with this idea for a while now.

Tried to talk myself out of it ... after 18 years of not practicing, just how many hoops would the Barristers' Society make me go through before granting me practicing status again? For a while, that seemed like a good enough reason not to proceed any further.

But eventually I realized that I might just be staring in the face (and yet not seeing) exactly what I have been looking for so hard for quite a while now - having convinced myself that I would never go back to practice because, after all, who could financially survive financially with the type of practice I wanted, I had been thinking that maybe the solution was finding work for a disability organization in a position where I could use my legal background and training. But that opportunity simply was not presenting itself. Although, in all honesty, I had come across what looked like the perfect job a few years ago. There was only one problem ... it was in BC. As in clear across the other side of the country. So, yeah. Not so much.

And yet this has been my passion for so many years now - how long have I been telling people that if I could find a way to marry law and disability (and get paid for it), I would be truly happy? Trust me, a long time. Said to a lot of people.

And so it was that eventually, very slowly, light began to dawn on marblehead (that would be me, in case you were wondering) and I "made the decision" (well, kind of, sort of anyway ... who says I'm not decisive?*) to take the leap and return to practice. 

The only problem was that required applying for a change of status (and forwarding the appropriate application fee) to the Bar Society, who would review my application and then tell me what hoops I would have to go through.

Now, really, that change of application fee would be hardly significant for most people. It shouldn't have been a big deal. And yet once I (kind of, sort of) made the decision to go back to practice, there just wasn't any money to spare to make the application. And then every time I planned on doing it (as in as soon as I get paid for ... whatever), something would happen and the money would be demanded elsewhere.

Oh what a tangled web we weave ....

Anyway, on a different note, guess what I did today? Come on. Guess.

No, I didn't finally *find* the money for the application fee.

No, I didn't finally start the required paperwork.

Give up? Are you sure?

All right, all right. I will tell you.

Listen carefully now.

  

(crickets)

Today. I. Mailed. The. Application.

(With. The. Cheque. Of. Course).

To. The. Bar. Society.

(more crickets)

Proud of me? I am. 

Proud. And excited. And more than a little nervous.

And so it is that the adventure continues. Wish me luck!

* In my defence, I did have a few good personal reasons for hesitating about taking the plunge. One being my health. But, hey, why let a little thing like that stop me, right? I figure if I don't try, I'll never know.

My Alternate Life ... On Flicker

I could well moan about how unfair it is that Lex (with seven ... count'em, seven sea deployments) gets to go on a Distinguished Visitor cruise cruise on the Nimitz.

But I am a better person than that. A much, much better person.

So instead I will simply direct you to some great snaps of my alternate life. You really need to watch this Flicker show, it's awesome.

Okay, okay, the photos were actually taken by Robert Scoble, but a girl can always dream, right?

Update: Okay, now Scoble has up even more pics (including some video); you can see the full slideshow here. And Lex has his up too. Also very cool because he knows what's really important.

Dreamscape

I can't recall having even one dream in the past two weeks. Not since Mom died. Sure, I know we supposedly dream every night but I remember none ... until today, that is.

Tired out, I went back to take a nap after the girls left for school. But I felt sad and restless. Couldn't really seem to fall asleep. Still, it felt good just to lay there and not move.

And then dream, I did.

I was in an apartment. With my Mom. We were both doing our own thing, just another ordinary day. But then I walked into the kitchen and saw that she was trying to get out a stain (blood, perhaps?) from a sheet from the hospital. She was determined to get rid of this stain but wasn't having much luck. I told her to give up, that she would never get it out. That I had sheets from the hospital that I had never gotten the stains out of it. [Disclaimer: it was a dream, okay?]

Then I was outside walking around. So very, very sad. Because my Mom was gone. I was walking around barefoot and somehow knew that this was very inappropriate to the season. With my head down. Sobbing softly and moaning. Because my Mom was dead. I passed by some people and recall thinking that they would think I was nuts. But to hell with them, my Mom had just died.

My Mom had just died. The thought repeated itself over and over again in my head. And then suddenly ~ click! I remembered that I had just been with my Mom! What the hell? I picked up my head and started running back to the apartment to find Mom. But I didn't get more than ten steps and there she was, calmly walking towards me.

Mom. As she was. As she had been before the past year of sickness. The Mom I knew.

I ran up to her and gave her a huge hug, which she returned. Then I pulled back, looked into her face and told her how much I love her. I recall having an insight at that moment. This was Mom, the real Mom. And now I could tell her again how I felt. She returned the sentiment, of course.

And then she said goodbye, turned around and started walking away. Now this is the weird part, as if the whole thing wasn't really strange enough. There were no tears, no recrimination or pleading for her not to leave. I simply stood there and said goodbye to her as she walked away. A couple of times as I recall. Each time, she stopped, turned around and said goodbye again. The last time, I told her that I wished she didn't have to go. She turned, said "I know" and then kept walking. And yet somehow, it was okay.

The dream immediately switched to something else. I was walking on the same street but going somewhere else with all thought of Mom gone from my mind. Well, that's not entirely true. It was like a second dream and I was still very sad, with no memory of what had just happened. And so the dream continued.

I was stunned when I finally woke up. Went over the dream about Mom carefully, so that I would remember it. And then asked myself "What the hell that was all about?" I suppose it was just something my mind had to do, to find a way to say goodbye to Mom. The real Mom as I knew her. The way she had been.

Although I would like to think that maybe, just maybe, she had come back to say goodbye to me. But that would most certainly not be in line with Mom's beliefs as to what happens after death. So I don't know, suppose I never will.

But what struck me the most was how matter of fact, calm and peaceful the goodbye was. Perhaps some day that memory will bring me some peace.