I suppose it's about time I posted some sort of update about the the events over the holidays. Christmas is a time of family, and I've done a lot of thinking recently about that subject as it refers to my life.

So, the family came and visited, as I had been talking about, and it was great spending time with them again. I know that my reference to Danny, Kelly, Lauren and Liam as "the family" is possibly misleading - because obviously they aren't the only family I have. But to be honest, I've been separated from the majority of my 'blood' relatives for so long, that it almost seems that they're all that's left. But putting it that way is an insult to everyone. Danny is my brother, and as such accords the most respect and reference out of anyone. Kelly, over the years, has become a sister to me. Lauren and Liam and the greatest niece and nephew combo that I could ever imagine. Them, along with Mom and Wayne, are my family.

Respect as well to those relatives that I still do associate with though. Jason and Jenny are the ones I've spoken to most recently and most often. I remember back when I lived in Saskatchewan and visited Northern Alberta every year, I always looked forward to hanging with my favorite cousin Jason (Along with his siblings Jenny and Matthew) again. I still remember the good times working the Dickie-Dee bike through Fairview. I also still remember the frantic moments when the bike got stuck on the train tracks and we struggled to get it free before the oncoming train hit us. Looking back at it now, I can't help but laugh.

I also spoke with my Grandma on Christmas. It was, uncomfortable. This is a woman that I remember loving when I was younger, and I think she loved me in return. But on the phone, she couldn't seem to get away fast enough. I understand that there's a gap there, a gap created by my lack of communication for over 5 years. I made a sad attempt this past summer to create a small bridge with a few family members by sending postcards from Europe.

Not a single one responded.

I didn't think of it at the time. But my most recent interaction with Grandma sort of drove the point home. Maybe they aren't interested in associating with me anymore? It's possible. After all, I'm the one that moved away from Alberta, to Saskatchewan, to Manitoba, and now to Ontario. Even though the most recent move is the only one I had any sort of choice in. But I still get the feeling that they're punishing me for leaving. It's as though I'm not good enough to be a Clegg anymore because I left, and severed the ties.

I can admit a strange sort of jealousy toward my brother for his relationship with our biological father. It's always strange though, for both of us. It came to the fore on Christmas Day, as is the norm with our group - to taint the best occasions with demons from the past. That is not for discussion here though.

I think about it, and it's still difficult to explain. I was younger, so I only remember bits and pieces from our distant past. And memories are perhaps the most random of events, there's no telling what an individual will remember in 5 years, 10 years, or 20. I can remember being an infant trying to escape his crib. I can remember hundreds of ants crawling up my leg as I dumped garbage in the garbage pit outside the trailer. I remember riding the snowmobile home from Grandmas house. I also remember sitting in Dad's lap as he let me drive the truck home, and the correction made when I allowed the vehicle to drift too far to the right. I remember making Easter eggs in the sink. I remember hiding in the corner while he bashed down the door with Danny and Mom trying to hold it closed.

"The recollection of a life is a cheat, of course.", it has been said by someone with more wisdom than I possess. The tale is lost to time almost immediately after it's passing. and memories may paint a picture, but it is rarely, if ever, perfect.

After the divorce - We visited often, the 12 hour drive between Warman and Fairview became a routine every summer. I think this is what in the end created the conflict in emotions. I've had no problem for a long time, since grade 5 in fact (and I remember that moment as well - as well as the ensuing internal conflict about whether or not is was a disrespect to Wayne to still call myself "Clegg"), admitting to the world that Wayne is my father - whether his blood flows in my veins or not - that is not important. But I always wondered about the man I still called "Dad' out of habit. Everytime I ever visited, he went straight to what I now call the "mind-work". Denouncing my mother while extolling his virtuous behaviour through the whole separation. I remember him sitting me down on the couch and talking about how he would fight to have custody of me. He intended of hitting me in the chair beside a judge to make my decision, mother or father, as soon as I became a teenager. I look back at those times now in disgust. What a sad individual I was to sit and accept all the drivel I was fed.

One of the last times I talked to him was before my high school graduation. By this time, I had moved to Oakbank - and the yearly visits had ended because 20 hours was too far of a drive. He talked about coming down for the graduation, and about what I was going to get as a graduation gift. More promises to be broken; no one came, and I never heard anything about it again. The last time I talked to that man was 2 years ago. I was looking after the brother's house while him and his family went to Saskatchewan for a visit to friends and family out there. He called, looking for Dan, but got me instead. It was an accident, and there's been nothing since. I'm still trying to decided if I abandoned him, or if he abandoned me. More likely a bit of both. It's strange though, this is a situation that for years I've insisted that I no longer care about. But talking to Grandma on Christmas day really jolted it all back into reality.

And there's more, there's always more. But I tend to spend my days reminding myself that it doesn't matter anymore.

If none of it matters anymore, then this entire blog is moot anyhow, right?

I think part of life is dealing with unresolved issues. Life rarely offers nice, clean associations. Instead it dishes us relationships with complexities far beyond casual analysis. It takes time to sort it through. I don't imagine there's anyone out there who has managed to sort through all the events in his/her life. Usually, the easiest path is to push it to the side - the present has no time for the past.

The future is like a yawning chasm before our feet, and the present is the limbs that grope their way into the chasm. But the past is never more than a breath behind. It is the heart and soul. As such, it bears influence upon everything.