Are you always listening?

I will tell you what I am thinking.

I am filled with lovingkindness most times. Today, I am filled with grief. I am filled with heartache from time to time when you do things that don't make sense to me. In the end, they will all make sense but for now, I am full of questions.

I haven't always been thankful. I haven't always been wise. I have mistreated the gifts you have given me but I retreat back on the path you have chosen for me. I believe in you. I really can't tell you how gracious and kind you've been to me so far. I have an enormous amount of thankfulness stored up inside of me to last me several life-times. I know I only get one though and one is enough. I will make it count. I will do my best and I will listen to you when you try to offer my subtle advice.

Today, I pleaded with you while I was driving. I speak to you often. I know you are close but are you always listening?

Please offer all of my loved ones the same courage, love and strength you have given to me. I shall do whatever I can, not to disappoint you.

AMEN.

Best Intentions

Taunting, I said to her "speak!" I knew she could talk! I was frustrated with her because she wasn't letting me in. I insisted that she did. Afterall, it was two weeks and she no longer held "new girl status". She had immigrated to Canada from Yugoslavia. Her name was Lydia. She looked like a porcelain doll. Her hair was so straight and shiny. Chestnut brown. Her eyes were almond shape and big, chocolate brown. Her mouth kind of pouty with red, red glossy lips. Her cheeks a glow with red. Blushing always. She stood in line silently. I used to smile and tell her to join me. I had never been rejected by my kindness before. I didn't know if I could stand it. Apparently not. She just turned the other way. I was hurt. Didn't she know that?

I finally lost patience and cornered her one day in the alley. I knew she could speak. I knew she had it in her!!!! I wanted to be her friend. Instead, my persistent nature scared her away. I was much taller than her and despite my best intentions, I frightened her.

She wasn't in our class for more than a few months. She moved away again to the east. We never made a lasting connection but I always wondered about whether she finally spoke up in her class. What was her voice like. I bet it was soft and angelic. It will remain a mystery forever.

Somtimes people come and go in your life.  Sometimes out of choice and other times out of pure circumstances. Sometimes your best intentions get lost and you make mistakes.
Sometimes people let you in and it`s just by chance. 

the birds and the bees

I shiver at the thought of having this discussion with my son one day. It will likely be passed onto his father. You know, man to man, father and son stuff. Yup. That's okay with me. I will just remain a resource if need be.

It got me thinking about when my father was brave enough to tackle this one with his daughters. We were in his bedroom on Norway and we got "called in". He was a shift worker so to have him home through the night was a special treat. It usually meant we would hassle him in his bed for a while before we kissed goodnight. I used to cuddle up next to him and he liked to sleep with no shirt on. It meant his underarms were there for the taking. A tickle that is. I was all about tickling and touching his underarm hair. Lord knows I got in enough trouble for it. He hated being tickled. It made him feel powerless. Yup. I get that now when the kids tickle me in daycare.

Anyway, he began this talk by stalling and saying.. "You've heard a little about the birds and the bees, I bet? "Huh?", I said, trying with all my might to be convincing. First of all, I didn't want to admit that I probably knew more than I should, having a big sis and all. Secondly, I wanted to see him in his awkward, daddy glory. It was kind of amusing to see your parents a little squeamish when you're a kid. I let it all unfold and remained silent. Taking it all in like it was hot off the press! He did a wonderful job. It was practical, to the point and not too gross!!!

Thanks Dad.

xoxoxox

One short year

In one short year, I feel like I have soaked up more about life than all of the previous years without you in it. I owe you a great deal. You are a little boy who has evolved into something so precious that words just can't convey. You are deeply embedded in my heart and soul.

Your first year has been so wonderful. I haven't worn much make-up nor have I dressed up with any formal attire. My eyebrows are not plucked and my sleep deprivation has given me dark circles under my eyes. Sometimes I stand in the shower and remember how good it feels to let the water run down my back but then I realize I don't want to miss another minute without you. You see, all of these things will eventually be reintroduced back into my life again. Someday I will wear make-up again and my hair might have a slight curl put in it or won't be tied back. For the time being, you need me to be close by often and I need you to know that I am right there.

You seem very happy to be around us so we must be doing something right. I sometimes wonder if your face ever tires from smiling. You awaken with a smile and you ease into slumber with a little grin on your face. Your smile is genuine and playful. You have even made grumpy men standing in line smile. You stare until they make eye contact with you and although they aren't wearing a smile at that time, you make sure they leave with one.

There is so much I want for you in this life-time. One of the greatest things is to know peace and love. I hope your journey is filled with the security of knowing your parents really think the world of you.

Number 155!!!!!

Incredible. Incredible, I tell you.

I usually have trouble sticking to things in my leisure world. In the responsible aspects of my life, I am dreadfully loyal. Committed. Period.

I have tried to keep this blogging alive!!!!! It has almost been a year! Hooray! It has really served me well. I have written over 155 passages. I know some have been dry, boring or negative but others have been really fun to write, healing in nature and just plain old good for the soul.

Raise your mouse pad to me for sticking to it! YAY!

A day in late August

dew worms everywhere
sunlight peeking through the windows
cool, breezy afternoon
a simmering sauce on the stove filled with fresh herbs from our garden
a perfect cup of coffee warms my hands
baseball game on the television
my to-do list has all been checked off
husbands are like comfort food most of the time
a quiet telephone
open windows and blowing curtains please me
a baby awakens from his nap
I am at home on a Sunday afternoon with my family.

The Cycle Of Life

There are times when my strong sense of intuition begins yelling out and I now try to pay more attention to it. Only this time, I hope it is wrong.

My sister and I have shared the same feeling lately. A sense of dread, loss and grief. A sense that our grandmother is ready to move on from this lifetime. She has been making comments lately that she is ready to go and be with her husband and her body is growing tired. Her fiest and spirit has followed her well into her 80's and I don't hear it anymore. I hear a woman who has made peace with her own passing. To write this is most difficult. I well up with a thousand or more tear drops but something tells me to keep writing.

We (my family) have a job to do. It is our duty to help her along this path. Her journey of life has been fulfilled and we must stand behind her and give her the strength, the love and the courage to find her way home.

In the meantime, there are still many stories to listen to, hugs and laughter to share. We must savour the present because we know the inevitable time will come, when we have to say good bye.

I remember at her 80th birthday party, we went swimming. She was as light as a feather and laughed wholeheartedly when I asked her to let me carry her around the pool. I swished her around in the water like I remember her doing to me when I was a child. The irony of it all.

The cycle of life.

Baby Milkshakes

My husband was giving me the low-down when I returned home from shopping. He began by saying he and the baby had a great time playing together while I was gone. He then began telling me that he prepared a bottle for the baby but for some reason, it looked extra thick to him today! Before he could finish his sentence, my first-time mother alarm bell began sounding off! In my head, my exacting and methodical nature began screaming out "he must not have used the right proportions!" but my heart also melted at the same time and caught me from saying anything out loud.

I just listened as he continued with this now amusing story, as he arrived at the same conclusion my instincts were telling me. He used too much formula and not enough water. He also went on to say that the baby would not let this particular bottle out of his grip, as he slurped this baby milkshake up in no time!

I am so glad the baby enjoyed this so much and I am even more delighted that I saw the humour in it all!

A Rare Find

Did this photograph make you look twice?!?

You can imagine what I thought when I found this rare discovery in Southampton last week. This photo doesn't belong to me but it was found on the internet while I searched for any clues that there could be such thing as two-headed turtles. Well, see for yourself now folks! (ahhhhem, dear husband who doubted me. What do you have to say for yourself now!)

After second guessing my vision, I called my father over to verify this. He and I watched closely in awe as both heads popped up above water and looked in separate directions. It was one of the most hilarious things I have seen. At the same time, it horrified me! I can't explain, really. It was something that I just couldn't seem to shake the entire evening. A shiver kept coming over me as I thought of a two-headed turtle in my bed as I tried to go to sleep. I said aloud to my husband, "that really was a turtle with two heads! Can you believe it!!"

Now that my internet search tells me this is a rare finding, I will have to call the Ministy of Natural Resources and tell them to be on the look out for this strange creature in Fairy Lake!

the eleventh month

I remember my sister saying to me a few years back, once you have a child, your whole life shifts and your outlook changes. You see things from a different perspective and things that normally would build up in your system just won't affect you the same anymore.

Our baby is reaching the eleventh month mark. Yikes! There is something to be said about nearing his first birthday. It really makes me want to cry me a river!

That said. This is what I think right about now.

I have spent enough of my days questioning the true meaning of life. It is here now in the flesh! We have a little miracle of life in our arms, waiting to be nurtured, loved, taught and guided. Our lives are really full. I have to be in this moment with our child. For every minute I may be preoccupied, I miss out. I will not miss out.

My priorities have shifted. I am "in the game". If anything is going to make me take life in a more healthy direction, I have our baby to thank! I have began filtering what matters most. It is a chance to get my butt in motion, clear my headspace, get rid of emotional baggage that is blocking me and be the best person I can be. I love my life. I love our life together!

I could never imagine this baby would impact our lives so beautifully.

The best is yet to be baby boy.

sacred space

It is nice to know that no matter where I am, I can take my thoughts with me. They are very portable. I do a lot of pondering. Sometimes too much. Let me tell you though that is can be very productive. I am a deep thinker. I can solve problems, set goals, dream, talk myself through it, reminisce, giggle, worry, vent and so much more!

It is a sacred space I call my thoughts.

It doesn't cost me a penny to visit nor does it ever get too crowded. I love escaping to this special place as often as I can.

I urge you to visit your own sacred space more often. People just don't give themselves the time they deserve to search within. To explore fears, apprehensions, dreams, emotions and experiences.

I often give my hubby the "inside scoop" and other times when I appear distracted he tells me, "can you just pay me some mind for a minute there girl".. meaning, take yourself away from your thoughts for a minute and listen to what I have got to say! Okay and I snap out of it and we both laugh!

Wherever you are

I wonder where you are. If I could tell you how much you changed my life you would be really surprised. I have told my husband about you. He thanks you too!

I was a very vulnerable teenager. I was a challenge to my parents. I was depressed. I was lost. I was on the cusp of rebellion but I didn't have the guts. I just screwed up a lot. I couldn't put a finger on it at the time but something was really missing from my life. Me.

I met you. You were a good, good person. You had your own challenges too but something was different about you. You were stronger, I think. You were one of the most gentle and kind people I have ever met. You were fragile in your own way but you concealed it well. You excelled in most things. A proficient student. A skilled athlete. A volunteer. A friend to many. A lover of animals. A conscientious employee. An acrobat. A leader. A believer. A steadfast young teen with dreams to escape poverty. A son of a mother who was an alcoholic. A son of a father who was absent. A brother of a deceased toddler. A survivor of child abuse. Alone you were.

I didn't know at the time how many odds you had beat already. I didn't know at the time how much I had taken for granted in my own life. I didn't know at the time how lucky I was to have the parents I had. I didn't know at the time how lucky I was to have you in my life. You led me in a different direction. I didn't know at the time how to accept your generosity of heart, your wisdom, your encouragement, your fondness for me. I just didn't know.

Instead, I just mistreated you and let you down like everyone else did in your life.

Your only living relative was your mother. You wanted to pull her out of poverty one day. You wanted to save her. You wanted to make her proud. You did. Only, it was too late for her to be saved. What sadness and tragedy you have experienced.

I am so happy you have found a wife. A mother to your children. A person to love you whole. We were young kids back then but I still remember.

I thank you a hundred times over for believing in me at a time when I didn't believe in myself.

Thank you wherever you are.

the corner store

If you were lucky enough to live close to a cool corner store, you gained lots of status when I was a kid. For some friends, it wasn't appealing enough to just visit with them- but if they happened to have a great corner store near-by, I was all over it!! I find that concept hilarious but it's so true.

A trip to the "corner store" was such a magical adventure- especially if your grandparents just stopped by and filled your pocket up with lots of spare change.

The one near my grandmother's was a favourite! We'd walk through and listen to the wooden floors creak beneath us as we would make our presence known at the candy counter! "Two bags please," I would say in a polite but firm little voice. I was all business. I'd hand one to my sister and together, we'd compete on how quickly we could fill our bags up with penny candy! I'd run to the cash register and hand her my fifty cents. This got us an overflowing brown paper bag full of the good stuff! We'd even trade once we got down to the bottom and our bellies weren't feeling so selfish.

We'd wave goodbye to the owner and then my sister would stop quickly in her tracks!
"We forgot the kielbasa, dummy!" We'd both run back to the deli counter and order an arm's length of the famous "Beach Road Kielbasa" for our grandparents. The owner would laugh at us as she handed back the taped package and we'd be on our way.

"Clean up in Aisle One please"

There is a cashier in me that will always remain. The little girl who loved pulling out canned goods from her aunt's fruit cellar while her sister rung them in was so much fun! I remember those days clearly. We'd take turns playing "customer" and "cashier" but we'd usually fight over the "cashier" role. Of course.

Throughout my teen years, I had various cashier jobs and this time, I actually got paid! Sweet! There was something about ringing the items through, taking money and giving back change, bagging the items and waving good-bye! I really enjoyed those transactions. Sounds funny eh?

You have no idea how excited I was to walk into Zehrs a few years back to find the Self Check-outs! It was my chance to get in the cashier role again but this time with my own groceries! My husband would often get fed up and start walking out of the store while I slowly scanned each item and carefully placed it into the bag. He would insist how much quicker it was to go through the regular check-outs but for me, it wasn't about that!

When I began my search for day-care items, guess what I searched for first? A cash register and some "pretend" produce, vegetables and plastic canned goods! I will often beg the kids to let me have my turn at cashier. I will pick up my pretend speaker phone and announce "Attention Shoppers, it is 9:00 and our store is now closing...." The kids laugh. I make my announcements with my very nasal tone and it makes for one very realistic cashier!

My inner child is here to stay and I am certain this will keep me young!

I remember the quiet

Today I drove down a side street with my windows down and something grabbed my attention quickly. The quiet. There was absolute silence on this street. I pulled the vehicle over and turned off my ignition. I was alone. I was suddenly captivated by the sound of quiet. I have not heard it in some time and I was now savouring it. I closed my eyes and paused a deep breath.

I like the hustle and bustle of my life. It is not chaotic and filled with clutter. It is abundant with life and fairly simple yet there are times when I don't stop to pause when I need to.

On a random Wednesday evening, there I was. I remembered the quiet.

June 14, 1969

I am not one for remembering people's anniversaries. I have trouble enough remembering birthdays as it is. There is on anniversary that I never forget though. It is permanently embedded in my psyche. June 14, 1969. This is the date that my parents Sam and Donna were married. This year would have marked their 38th wedding anniversary. That is a very long time.

My experience as a kid from divorce has been bittersweet. I am happy that my parents have both found love and compatibility in their lives with other partners now. As an adult, I can understand why things didn't work out between them. They have been separated for so many years now that things have shifted and new roles and dynamics have been defined.

The inner child in me never yearned for them to reunite. I just longed for them to get along and like eachother again. I am so happy to say that my parents have given my sister and I the greatest gift. They are friends again and that has given me so much peace.

Sam and Donna grew up together and their relationship begun at a very young age. They married when they were 19 years old!! They enjoyed many, many years with a wonderful group of friends and they were a very sociable couple- going to parties, dances, barbeques and trips. Carrie and I grew up with lots of people around us, much laughter and love.

I feel sad that we all had to experience the pain and loss of our family unit but time heals all things.

There is some kind of comfort knowing my parents share such a long history together as adolescents, young adults and now grandparents. I can always count on them sharing funny stories of days gone by that they shared together.

They gave us life. They give us love. Thank you my dear parents. So every year, when this day arrives, I still kind of celebrate them and whisper Happy Anniversary to myself.

daddy

I stepped back from packing the car up because something caught my attention. It was a beautiful glimpse of a daddy and baby boy sitting under an umbrella on our favourite beach, the sun starting to set, the breeze catching their hair. A perfect glimpse into the simplicity and genuine love they have for one another. This father and son. My husband is trying to feed our baby his bottle before we embark on a long journey home. All of a sudden, his shoulders begin to bounce up and down as he laughs at the antics of our baby whose latest fascination is to chew with his new teeth on the bottle's nipple and then spit out the milk that happens to get in the way of his fun!

This year has really been quite an eye opener. Despite the understandable "back burner" our relationship has had to take since the birth of our son, we continue to refine our relationship as parents and partners to eachother. It hasn't all been rosey. How much fun would life really be if it were all smooth sailing? You have to be able to experience difficulties, frustrations and growth in order to fully appreciate progress and evolution.

My husband once told me he didn't envision his life with children in it because he had thought it was too late for him, being 40 and all. Big deal. Now when I revisit that statement with him, he smiles and laughs at where our paths have taken us. We both cannot fathom what we would be without this baby. People change. People grow. People challenge their fears and suddenly realize, life really is wonderful if you let it be so.

I love this baby's Daddy. He makes my cheeks hurt sometimes because I can't smile enough when I am in his presence.

courageous words of profanity

There is a rebellious teenager inside me that wants to shout out obscenities in my writing! I want to voice all of the frustration or hurt I have felt but more so, I just want to use my creativity in a different voice sometimes. Not all of this tactful, respectful and censored thinking. Don't get me wrong, my writing comes naturally for the most part. Once in a while though, I come across some powerfully moving stuff from other writers that have profanity painted all over their walls and it stuns me and moves me completely. It hits me right in the gut and I get their message instantly. No questions asked. No underlying meaning. Just staring me in the face in their bold print.

I applaud these kind of writers. They are brave and courageous. We can't always see things in a positive light. This is not reality. I don't think I will ever be brave enough in this regard. I will just continue shouting into a pillow when need be.

We all need an outlet sometimes.

all things tangible

Why must we account for all our moments spent? They are all meaningful. Why must we feel less of a human being if we have not a degree or a blackberry in our possession? Why must we feel less of a mother if we have not signed our kids up for every possible team you could imagine? Why must we feel less of a friend if we have cannot buy lavish gifts or restaurant outings? Why must we feel less of a partner if the house is not kept up, dinners are not planned well in advance or romantic gestures are put on the back burner sometimes?

I have spoken to various women in my life about their sense of purpose and their outlook on their own life signature. Most feel they are scrambling to find meaning and others feel there is something missing but just can't figure out what that is.

Things are measured by all things tangible. That is, what do you have to show for your time or your money?

Most of us seldom realize if we removed that from the equation, our hearts would feel more at ease. Our sense of selves would feel more sturdy. Think of all the things you can fit into your day? We often spend time doing things under the surface. We try to think of ways to celebrate people we love, we try to be better people (which in itself is VERY time consuming) and we try to do for others often. This is not a martyr approach but it is reality if you are anything close to being a woman. It is in all of us whether we are mothers to children or not.

I may pick up a hobby along the way but it will always have to be the activity that comes after everything else.

I will still feel that in the end, I have spent my time well.

Welcome to the Block!

Tonight was a warm summer-like evening. We opened all the windows and I began to read a book in bed because it was far too early to sleep, I thought. My eyes began getting drowsy and I was losing interest in this novel. To my delight, I jumped up out of bed and ran to the window! It was literally, music to my ears. The sound of a guitar playing and a male voice leading the song with little girls singing their hearts out with him! I knew it had to be the neighbours across the street. I have shared a few brief conversations with them before. I have been intrigued by them since we moved in. My husband and I often find amusement watching the two little girls creating their own adventures in the front yard. They are often seen pulling their puppies on leashes, hanging from the trees, chasing each other up and down the street and giggling as much as they can. It really is something wonderful. I can't tell you what the sound of children's laughter does for me. It assures me that those kids are getting exactly what they need.... a carefree childhood that is busy with activity and their imaginations!

I began putting my shoes on and my husband wondered where I was going. As I called back to him, I told him I was going to join the party! He laughed. He knows me too well. Where there is activity and excitement, Laura is there!

I now stood on their porch and tried not to interrupt their song. They wrapped up and I gave them a round of applause! I explained how much I enjoyed hearing them singing from across the street, that I just had to get a front row seat for at least one more song. Without hesitation, they smiled and began performing like they were on stage. The oldest girl holding a pretend microphone while the youngest sat on a bar-like stool. The father (Keith) who is a local musician told me he tries to treat everyday around their place like it's the weekend. What a wonderful outlook! He was sipping on wine, the tealight candles added a special ambiance to their patio while the girls stood around in their PJ's.

I didn't want to overstay my welcome but I was officially welcomed to the block and told to come back soon to one of their backyard concerts! These are the type of people we love to have as neighbours, I thought.