Sad Thoughts on Missing People....Originally written 4 years ago..!!

I know a lot of my sadness is due to my brother's passing.  It seems like now that we've celebrated his life I feel so much worse.  Being where he lived was sweet.  Experiencing the shower faucet that he installed backwards made me laugh and I don't think I would ever change it just because it was his handiwork.  Seeing notebooks with his handwriting brought a feeling of closeness and I had to look through his reading glasses just because.  I'm so glad he was loved by a woman and a family.  So happy that he had so many friends.  I don't know how I could miss him so much even though I hadn't seen him for almost 3 years.  But I do.  His memorial brought reality - proof that he is really gone. And although it was over almost 3 months ago now (his memorial) tears are still triggered by little things that remind me of him. I know this is normal and will go on for awhile.  Of course I don't want to forget him.  But I don't want to be eternally sad......

But >

There have been many times that I thought I would like more alone time to do some of my own stuff.  But now that I have that chance, I'm seeing that when you are missing someone, life is empty.    Not empty of furniture and accessories and things that make it a home.  But when you are alone in the house.  No one to talk to (except the dog who refuses to answer).  It doesn't matter if you have painted the walls and updated the furniture.  If no one is there to share it with, who really cares?  It could be a cardboard box or a warehouse with cinderblock shelving and bare light bulbs.  Having someone to share it with is the important part of life.  I think. Life makes more sense when we share.  Even if sharing includes bickering.  And apologizing if I was wrong (rarely...haha..!)

Loneliness is nasty.  It's loud and obnoxious.  It won't stop ringing in my ears. 

What Better Name...

I know “Mother’s Day” has come and gone for this year.  But within this past week I’ve noticed the sudden appearance of Irises in my neighbourhood.  They seem to grow wild along with lilacs and I’m amazed at their resilience. 

My husband recently dug up a bunch of irises because he was putting a tool shed where they were planted.  He left them in a pile and I started to transplant them wherever I could find space.  This took a few days and I ran out of room before I could get them all relocated.  I felt sheepish realizing that a large amount still sat in the pile, waiting for a permanent home.  As I tried to go on with my life, I kept having that nagging feeling that the irises were still there waiting for me to take responsibility for them.

Finally, with casual shame and after several days of hot weather, I approached the pile of mistreated irises.   Expecting to find pathetically shrivelled plants fit only for the yard waste bin, I screeched to a stop, almost tipping my wheelbarrow.    Instead of gasping for air and giving up on life, the irises had taken advantage of their situation.

They just grew, even with the absence of nutrients.  No special soil or fertilizer…(no soil at all actually)…they just seemed to dig in and grow right where they were.  Not only that, but they had begun to bloom.  I was pretty amazed. 

That’s when I started to notice that around the neighbourhood in unlikely places, irises were blooming.  In ditches, on dusty hillsides and between rocks they stood in glorious groups of purple, yellow and even white.  In amongst weeds and debris there they were,,,thriving….standing strong and beautiful.

This made me think of my mom.  (Did I mention her name was Iris?)

She didn’t have an easy life.  Her childhood was difficult and her adulthood wasn’t much better.  She faced a lot of trials and unfair situations but still she managed to stay strong.  She took what life gave her and made it work.   It was simple things that made her happy and caused her to bloom.  She was a survivor who stood strong and beautiful amidst the most unlikely circumstances.   

What better name for my mom than Iris?

 

September Thoughts...

 

Contemplating life on this glorious day

absorbing the scene before me

as I drive the bare paved road

Blue sky plastered with cotton ball clouds

stretched above rolling fields of gold and green

The air has a bite to it and I know what's coming

This picture will be replaced

with rolling hills of sparkling white

a backdrop for rows of bare trees

standing brittle

crackling in the wind

a beauty of its own

too cold to touch

memories of warmth

playing in my mind

I'm a northerner now!

Who would have thought?

My urge to laugh is quickly replaced

by a pang a sadness

remembering what I left to venture here

to become attached

to something so unexpected.

My thoughts are warmed

as I anticipate Autumn's watercolours

and prepare for the inevitable

 slow covering of Winter's whitewash....

Please Don't.....

A major reason why I’m not vocal about abortion is FEAR.  Does that surprise anyone?  Of course it doesn’t.  I think fear is the biggest obstacle for a lot of people (especially me, which is why I’m writing this on my blog that no one reads…) Fear of ridicule by people who don’t share my opinions.  Yes.  But mainly fear that what I think or say may seem stupid.

I am not a graduate of university.  I did get a certificate of “secretarial/administration” from a community college but I know that, to many, that doesn’t count. 

My opinion on abortion is not based on scientific research or evidence.  It’s based on what I feel in my heart and soul.  I also think it’s based on common sense. 

What breaks my heart is how people believe that a fetus is not a human being.  I can’t understand how even a basically intelligent person could believe that.  It makes sense to me that at the very moment of conception, there is suddenly a human being.  Alive! Growing until it’s mature enough to enter the harsh reality of the world outside its safe, controlled chamber.

My thoughts are that whoever believes a conceived child is not a child is deceiving themselves.  They are justifying their actions; eliminating guilt; freeing themselves from responsibility.  Period.

 

Please don’t say I wasn’t human

Please don’t think I wasn’t a child

No matter what they tell you – I did exist

I was there within you

A gentle presence

Entrusted to your care

You were my world 

You had a problem

It was me 

Now that I’m gone

You try to push me out of your mind

And yes, the memory of me fades

You try to push me out of your heart

But I’m always there

 You see me in your dreams

You feel my heart beating

So close to yours

My fingers grasping

Trying to hold on 

Please don’t think I wasn’t a child

No matter what they tell you – I did exist

Memories of my Father...........August 12, 1929 - August 26, 2014.

Yes I know.  My dad passed away in August and here it is June and I'm just getting around to this now.  I wish I could say I have a lot of awesome memories of my dad.  But I don't.  Because he was really only in my life for about 9 years, I only have a few.  I feel very sad over the fact that he died without really knowing all of his kids and grand-kids, but it was his choice.  Still - because it's the first Father's Day after his passing, I can't just pretend he didn't exist.


I know I loved him when I was a kid before absence made my heart immune. 

He was an alcoholic who was abusive to my mom and us kids (especially my brother).  But he was my dad and there were some good times.  I know my siblings have different memories and some of mine will no doubt sound weird to a lot of people.  But please....Humour Me.

I remember his huge motorcycle boots.   I remember how safe I felt when he held my hand crossing the street.  I remember being worried sick about him when I learned "The Bear Went Over the Mountain" in grade one - because he told me he worked in the mountains...(I have no idea if that was true or not).

For awhile he had a trucking business and I remember riding in the back of his 3-ton truck.  There were 3 of us kids lined up in a row lying on a moving pad right below the window in the box of the truck.  We stopped at King's Burgers on Kingsway and had corn dogs and fries.  Another time he had a garbage truck business and I remember going with him on his route and finding pretty decent produce when he picked up the garbage from Super Valu.  I remember going to the city dump with him and getting used to the terrible smell there.  One time a seagull pooped on my hand while we were there. I was disgusted.  My dad laughed.  I remember how his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

I remember my mom having a surprise birthday party for him.  She made a cake shaped like a garbage truck and everyone at the party was so impressed by her efforts. 

There were drives to look at Christmas lights, Christmas mornings and horsey rides; work boot dances, laughter.  And then before I turned 10 years old he disappeared from our life.

I missed him and for years I invented scenes in my dreams where he would come back for me.  I envied my friends, the ones who had loving relationships with their dads.  For reasons I couldn't understand at the time, I missed out on the bonds of fathers and daughters, but I am not bitter.  Just sad.

I went through the usual self destructive behaviour that often comes as a result of bad or non-existent fathering.  But I survived.  And by God's amazing grace I met my husband, who became not only my soul mate but the awesome father of our sons.

Today, as I was reflecting on these thoughts I was reminded that although my situation was not the best, it could have been so much worse.  I know of so many people who have only bad memories of their dads or no memories at all.  I'm thankful to have mine.

And now......

Although I am thankful to my earthly dad for his part in giving me life, I am profoundly thankful for my heavenly father who gave me eternal life.  As an added bonus I am so blessed to be able to see the bonds between my three sons and their children.  They know the true definition of Fatherhood.  They know that although life is not always going to be great, they are committed.  I'm confident that they will protect, love and honour their children no matter what. 

It's with great respect and pride that I wish them a Happy Father's Day......

Thoughts on Mother's Day...

First thought:  I miss my mom and I cherish many memories of her.  

Second thought:  Mother’s Day is like Valentine’s Day.  If you have no one to celebrate with, it’s a sad time and you could end up feeling like a lonely loser.   

Third thought:  To some, Mother’s Day is a chance to impress their moms with extravagant gifts and gestures (like diamond earrings, spa treatments and trips to the overcrowded  Mother’s Day Brunch Buffets) to make up for the rest of the year when they ignore their moms.   

Fourth thought:  Mother’s Day is a time for cheezy TV commercials.  The one that really annoys me is the KFC commercial.  The family is sitting in a little tent in the living room eating a bucket of fried chicken.  There are no napkins in sight and not a crumb or speck of grease anywhere.  How do they do that?  I think maybe they use Styrofoam chicken.   

Conclusion:  I think I feel a bit cynical about Mother’s Day (ya think???)  That’s why I’m having these thoughts.  But I don’t want anyone to feel obligated or guilt ridden on my account; or swayed by the materialistic ads and emotional blackmail.  I think of the mother I was and the one I could have been.  We all have regrets I suppose.  But mine seem too unique.  This is one of the only times I wish for the ordinary. 

My middle son, Dylan, is direct and transparent and I love that about him. Last year he called me from Alberta to say “Happy Mother’s Day!  I didn’t send a card; in fact I forgot all about Mother’s Day until 2 days ago.  But I love you, Mom!”  Awwwwwwwww!!!

Oh – I’m not so naïve.  I realize there is the strong possibility that this is all a little act, planned carefully.  He may have thought…”Hmm.  I think I’ll do the old ‘didn’t get you a card forgot it was Mother’s Day’ routine and save myself the trouble of going through the racks of schmucky cards and then trying to think of something memorable to write in it before actually getting it in the mail.  Mom will think I’m so cute and honest..haha!!!”

Well…it works for me!    

Seriously now.  My favourite Mother’s Day things are going for family walks (when possible), homemade cards (I have some doozies) and just hearing my sons’ voices and knowing they are doing well because to me, these are truly gifts more precious than diamond earrings.....(*_*) (well almost..lol!!) 



I bet you can't wait til next month for my thoughts on Father's Day.......bwahaha!!!

 

 

And Suddenly....It's Winter....

It’s all coming back to me.   Cracked jagged fingers numb from the cold.  Hangnails too tough to be bitten off.  Mud covered vehicles with cracked windshields.  Rows of boots in the foyer of the library and other public buildings. Yeah.  I remember. 

I never thought I would live even farther north than Mackenzie BC, where I spent 10 years of my family’s life.  But here I am.  And the feelings I'm having about it are mixed at the moment.  We've been here almost two weeks (well Rod was here for the summer months and I just arrived). 

Wouldn't you know we are experiencing an unusual cold spell.  In fact yesterday morning on the weather report it was noted that Dawson Creek was the cold spot of BC (-30).  I know winter hasn’t even started yet.  It's still Fall!  But instead of brightly coloured leaves we have almost a foot of snow on the ground and although it's now sunny, the snow is not melting!

But there are some positive things.  Like yesterday morning when Rod woke me up to ask if I wanted to see a moose.  Our townhouse is the last row to be built and that means we look out on a little forest instead of another row of townhouses.  It's very pretty.  That's where we see the sunrises and in the distance we can see windmills up on the hill.  Last night the sun was hitting the tips of some of them, making it look like there were torches up there.  We've seen deer in the forest but this morning was our first moose sighting.  It looked quite young and it was standing amongst the trees eating bark.  With binoculars we could see it quite well but it was too far away to get a good photo.  However, Rod, being the avid photographer that he is, got on his boots and ventured out to get closer.  

From the safety of the window I saw the moose stop eating and look at Rod for a few minutes.  I wondered if he (or she) sensed danger and expected to hear a loud boom sound like the one that may have taken out his grandpa...(who knows the thoughts of a young moose...) But then he continued casually eating bark.

Rod got some decent shots but pointed out (after he thawed out) that if he had the $1000 telephoto lens he could have done better....(hint..)

We watched as the moose finished his meal and then found a spot to curl up for a snooze.  Sometime later I noticed he was gone.  We checked this morning but if he was there, we couldn't see him. 

If this is it until Spring I guess I can manage.  As long as I have crochet and art supplies, I will make it through.  We are going to Grande Prairie AB tomorrow (weather permitting) and I noticed there is a Michael's there!!!!!!!!!!! I'm planning to stock up on yarn for more *dog sweaters and human slippers.  But I won't be making any more fingerless gloves!   I think gloveless finger warmers make more sense.

*A few words from the dog later.............