Okay so my doctor told me I should keep a journal.
Hmmm... For those of you that already know me, that sounds like an easy task for someone who likes to write and or talk until the cows come home! Funny though...not so easy. Dunno why? Odd really.
I have often said that I've felt 'inspired' when I actually write poetry or other "stuff" of note. It's true. I have never come away from a writing binge and felt like it was ME that has done the writing...not even when I have been 'commissioned' to write for certain events or people and it's been actual WORK to get words down.
I do hold words in high esteem though...I have many phrases, mainly inspirational and spiritual, hanging as 'art' around my home. I find the constant reminders to "Stay Calm and Carry On" (THAT one courtesy of mom, but I absolutely love LOVE it!); "The Journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. (a ukn); "When you're down to nothing, God is up to something" (a ukn); "Hope"; "Faith"; "Love"; and my new fav "Family Rules...." hanging in the basement kitchen! Somehow I'm beginning to think that just maybe I am a wee bit worried about forgetting who and what I am - ?
The days are long as a parent of three - any parent can attest to that. I am trying to do my best to keep up with the craziness of what I like to call my life while balancing a calmer, more together life for my kids. As Craig Ferguson would say to that, "I look forward to your e-mails!"
I would love to sit here every night and create memorable writing (it's better understood as 'bitching'), but that's just not in the cards most days. To write takes some kind of insane clarity...in order to achieve that, one must have at least 2 brain cells left over by 9pm that are not overwhelmed with smelly diapers, cleaning this mess, cooking that dinner, checking agendas for homework, helping with said homework, negotiating what you would believe to be world peace within the confines of our address and then shuffling everyone off to bath and bed in time for another episode of 'What Happened to my Clean Kitchen Now!?' As I said, most days I finish a has-been CEO, reduced to a pile of mush by the relentless union of testosterone beings I'm charged with entertaining.
Journal writing? Ha! I guess I could start that if I got a voice recorder to use while L and I sit with our bottle of red on a Friday night! That Friday night girl time is all I have, and do I ever look forward to it every week! Don't get me wrong, the wine I could (maybe) sometimes do without ;) It's the girl infusion that's necessary for me to keep my head on straigh(ish).
Something else I had better make clear now after a quick thought - I DO love my family! My 4 boys are my life and my biggest blessings after mum. I believe this is how my life was meant to unfold, although somehow it feels incomplete without a daughter. I am beginning to wonder if one day she will just walk into my life instead of starting in my womb. There have been a few already that have stolen my heart - one that we thought seriously about adopting and one that I'm sure was needed somewhere else before her time had truly begun with us....
Per usual, I digress...my boys. Yes, my amazingly beautiful and talented boys. God gave me three healthy and vibrant souls to care for. He entrusted D & I with His utmost prized posession, His children. What an honour!
I needed to pause there for a minute - take a deep breath and see my three sons in my mind's eye...I, who I believe saved me from myself, then M&N, who have pushed me to the limits of self-discipline and understanding. I quit smoking when I found out I was having I. Cold turkey - just did it. He saved me from myself. M&N as twins and individuals challenged me and continue to do so beyond what I thought I was capable of. Then there's D, the unsuspecting rock. The man behind the woman (wink, wink!) He somehow always believed in us - in me - and has let me be me, the good, the bad and the ugly...but he always maintained that whatever the roadblock seemed to be, it was just a bump in the road and things would be fine. Thank God for D. There were times when I was a train wreck; an honest-to-goodness mess and a half. A type 'A' personality, a 'Leo'...you name it, I had all of the ingredients of a perfectionist and control freak but I was trying to live that in a life that had no sense of direction nor control! You can just imagine what that did to me...to us. D had some issues as well, and let me tell you, combined they were leathal to our relationship - we were a bomb waiting to explode!
Then mom's cancer happened. Yeah. Just when things were horrible, we got the whammy! My best friend and mother was told to put her life in order. Wow. Our lives have NEVER been the same. I can now say I don't want them to be. Mom's physical, mental and emotional sacrifices forever changed my outlook on all of my relationships, from aquaintances to family to myself and everywhere inbetween. Those two years of our lives brought something back to life in the deepest darkest places in my heart. Never would I have guessed that facing that loss would make me the person I am becoming today. I'm beginning to find myeself again - the Julie that was, but with more experience and hopefully some knowledge picked up along the way to change things up a bit for the better.
Having to face the devastating repercussions of chemo...having to explain to my 9 and 7 year-olds what was happening to gramma - was incredible. There wasn't time for anything else. People pitched in and helped...friends, neighbours, family...D's quiet support was undeniably my saving grace. He allowed me to find my way through the pile of emotions that hit me almost daily...losing my mom meant the end of the mother-daughter era for me with no daughter to reclaim that relationship with...mom is my best friend AND my mother...so many things tossed around my tired head and all the while I was trying to do everything I could to keep a smile on my face for the kids and for all outward appearances. I have seen the worst of the worst times through with mom. ICU and the surprises after surgery, the evil effects of chemo...screams of defeat and tears of joy...and through all of that, D stood in the sidelines, waiting to pick of the pieces of who I was and try to hold on until the storm passed. And it did. And so did he.
Now on literally the eve of the celebration of mom's 2nd year surviving what we thought was to be her last 6mos., a rude awakening to shock us back into reality. What so wholly controlled our lives and made us painfully aware of our fragility had slowly taken a back seat to moving on, until today. The other week, mom's good friend was diagnosed. J went through the usual string of appointments and procedures, then we thought things were looking up last week. Today changed everything...for us all. J's cancer is stage 3 and agressive. Chemo & radiation.... Mom called me and was almost unable to speak at times. I haven't heard that painful sobbing since October of 2010. I asked because I knew it was the right question - "Are you upset because it's J or because you know what she has to face?" The answer of course was both, but the latter first. Now I find myself zoning out as I did two years ago this Thursday...my thoughts already going to how I can help mom get through this and now also how if at all can I help J's family?
We begin again. Something still needs to be learned, or something has yet to be shared...or both. Yes, both. I am back to appreciating my life and am in a much better place than before cancer was such a big part of our lives, but this new situation will not let me rest. Appreciating, really truly receiving God's gift of life is selfless. It's not about what we want for ourselves or what we can accomplish in a large-scale way, but rather the small things that begin a ripple effect of change.
Pause for thought again. Yup. I got there. I got to where I needed to be tonight. As always, there is so much more to say, but for tonight, I'm there. The bucket is empty. Now to sleep - while I can think about life's twists and turns and yet smile in the face of adversity. Just another bump in the road....g'night, God Bless.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Heaven - originally written January 30th 2003...
...for you, my angel Grace - you inspire me.
love always, mommy.
I used to think heaven was 'up'
It's not up, it's everywhere.
Heaven is what you want it to be.
It's everywhere you want it to be.
Heaven is in my arms when I hold my child close.
Heaven is in my heart when I look at my loving spouse.
Heaven is all around when I see children playing in the park.
Heaven is a part of me when I can say I love who I am.
It's everywhere and nowhere, all at once.
It's like the fluttering of wings next to your ear as you sleep;
Or the peacefulness from a wonderful dream;
Or the wonderment of the world around when you see through your child's eyes.
It's as inexplicable as the word 'love'
But it is, always was, and always will be.
love always, mommy.
I used to think heaven was 'up'
It's not up, it's everywhere.
Heaven is what you want it to be.
It's everywhere you want it to be.
Heaven is in my arms when I hold my child close.
Heaven is in my heart when I look at my loving spouse.
Heaven is all around when I see children playing in the park.
Heaven is a part of me when I can say I love who I am.
It's everywhere and nowhere, all at once.
It's like the fluttering of wings next to your ear as you sleep;
Or the peacefulness from a wonderful dream;
Or the wonderment of the world around when you see through your child's eyes.
It's as inexplicable as the word 'love'
But it is, always was, and always will be.
written for Britannia Public School Teachers & Staff...Teacher Appreciation Day, October 5th, 2011
Celebrating teachers who are always there
Giving our children the utmost care
Inspiring minds to push the limits
While saying modestly, "there's nothing to it"
Positive, respectful and enthusiastic ways
To fill their minds, their hearts and their days
As parents we are proud and happy to know
Our students will reflect that wherever they go
Your hard work and diligence make it look so smooth
Planning and always working on things to improve
But truthfully we know that a teacher's life is hard
So now it's time to give you a report card
For your committment to Britannia, always an "A"
The same for your patience with parents some days
An "A" for your encouragement and nurturing style
For your insight and for going that extra mile
We know you care about us as we do you
No other teachers can do what you do
You make us love school, both young and old(er)
Now that's a report card not meant for a folder
Wear it with pride because you're one of a kind
A better place than Britannia you'll never find
Learning is for Life and Life is for Learning
And soon enough, for these days we'll be yearning
It has been said that great schools have great teachers
It's no secret that's one of our school's great features
So hat's off to you, our wonderful teachers and mentors
For choosing the job that you certainly were meant for
~ Celebrating our teaching staff is truly celebrating our children
Because what teachers bring to school is what our children bring home ~
written for Britannia Public School Teachers & Staff...Teacher Appreciation Luncheon, June 16th, 2011
"We are but caterpillars learning to live
And you, our teachers, are willing to give
The time and caring we need to grow
Until into a chrysalis we must go
But because of your wisdom and grace
We cocoon and emerge ready to face
The new challenges of the butterfly
When at last we must say good-bye"
...Thank you for all you give each day
To help our children learn and play
Our bond is as steadfast as it is true
Their future is brighter because of you...
Welcome Back Mommy...
April 13th, 2011...
In the days since I last wrote, which have been many, I have sat in turmoil and triumph from one minute to the next. I have tried valiantly to live for the moment - to stop and smell the roses, both figuratively and literally. I stopped working, not from choice but by design. I became once again the stay home mommy in search of herself....
Can you hear it? Trying to explain myself through words? "I" this and "I" that..? Funny, isn't it? Still lost in the shuffle....
Okay...begin again....
Today was a good day. There, a better beginning.
In the days since I last wrote, which have been many, I have sat in turmoil and triumph from one minute to the next. I have tried valiantly to live for the moment - to stop and smell the roses, both figuratively and literally. I stopped working, not from choice but by design. I became once again the stay home mommy in search of herself....
Can you hear it? Trying to explain myself through words? "I" this and "I" that..? Funny, isn't it? Still lost in the shuffle....
Okay...begin again....
Today was a good day. There, a better beginning.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Enough with the negative...
There are times in our lives when we are labelled certain things. In grade school, teasing and bullying is quite a serious offence in the eyes of a principal. Reprimand is forthcoming and reflection is required. But adults don't respond to the same set of rules, do we? It has becomes okay to scorn others without forethought as to their situation or events surrounding their actions. We are quick to judge and it seems easy to toss people into categories that suit our social organizational tendencies. We compare ourselves as parents, compare what we have, what we do, how we live. Now, is there any wonder that our children do the same? Listen to your children, you will hear yourself. Where we fail ourselves, we are failing them. Being 'good' is not subjective, depending on how others around you behave.
I am suddenly aware that I am just as much a hypocrite as the rest of you. We are all guilty at some point, at some time, of judging others without cause, without full knowledge of the circumstances. It is not for us to judge. It is not for us to give 'solutions' or even to 'correct' someone's thinking. That is God's place and His only. It is our place to foregive, to accept we are all different, to find ways to push each other up, not destroy our sense of worth.
I say to those that have the wonderful tendancy to make me feel belittled and always wrong, however subconscious those comments or glances may be, that I have a goal, after many years, to take a stand against the constant soul destroying negativity. Funny how negativity has fostered negativity...but that chain must be broken. I chose to break it. How you respond is your business. I forfiet my hold on your negative influences and seek out those who I know will only help my soul to grow and find happiness.
Now, this does not mean I give up on the people that have brought that negativity to the forefront of my life (all the while casting a spell to make me think it was all my doing, and claiming to be completely positive themselves...look in the mirror...listen to yourself speak). I simply am going to try my best to not let the unsupportive responses to so much I say get under my skin. No hard task for this elephant! I remember too much detail for my own good...but I have to start remembering more of the good and leaving out the bad.
Okay, this has become somewhat of a personal rant...but a healthy one at that. Sorting through my thoughts and feelings before responding I believe is a better start than to fight back. That's what my grade school principal would have told me. Now, it's high time we all took a close look at how we treat each other, how we relate and how we give ourselves the right to judge. Think twice, speak once. And remember who is listening...for you will certainly hear your words come back to haunt you sooner or later...right mom?
I am suddenly aware that I am just as much a hypocrite as the rest of you. We are all guilty at some point, at some time, of judging others without cause, without full knowledge of the circumstances. It is not for us to judge. It is not for us to give 'solutions' or even to 'correct' someone's thinking. That is God's place and His only. It is our place to foregive, to accept we are all different, to find ways to push each other up, not destroy our sense of worth.
I say to those that have the wonderful tendancy to make me feel belittled and always wrong, however subconscious those comments or glances may be, that I have a goal, after many years, to take a stand against the constant soul destroying negativity. Funny how negativity has fostered negativity...but that chain must be broken. I chose to break it. How you respond is your business. I forfiet my hold on your negative influences and seek out those who I know will only help my soul to grow and find happiness.
Now, this does not mean I give up on the people that have brought that negativity to the forefront of my life (all the while casting a spell to make me think it was all my doing, and claiming to be completely positive themselves...look in the mirror...listen to yourself speak). I simply am going to try my best to not let the unsupportive responses to so much I say get under my skin. No hard task for this elephant! I remember too much detail for my own good...but I have to start remembering more of the good and leaving out the bad.
Okay, this has become somewhat of a personal rant...but a healthy one at that. Sorting through my thoughts and feelings before responding I believe is a better start than to fight back. That's what my grade school principal would have told me. Now, it's high time we all took a close look at how we treat each other, how we relate and how we give ourselves the right to judge. Think twice, speak once. And remember who is listening...for you will certainly hear your words come back to haunt you sooner or later...right mom?
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Rose
There was a young girl on the pier. Tiny and delicate, her long blonde hair was blowing to the side of her tear-stained face as she stared out to sea. Her thoughts were instense and almost audible as they rushed through her mind. It was as if the wind could speak to her.
Dan watched her and became connected to her intensity from his seat by the beach.
The girl took the sea air in and her shoulders lifted and then dropped with her exhaled breath. Her gaze turned upwards as if for answers and her eyes closed tightly as more tears escaped from each side of her face again.
Drawn to her, Dan approached with caution. He didn't know if she was alone by choice or design, but he yearned to reach out and take her hand. Though a stranger, something about her saddened his heart - her broken spirit poured onto the pier like waves. Intent on finding out more, he gently stepped forward enough so that she would see him there, a few feet away, but slightly ahead of her. He tried to look casually at the sea swells and take them in, but now his position was precarious - if she had seen him, she hadn't acknowledged his presence, so he was left wondering what the next move would be. He could no longer see her expression to see if conversation was welcome. He knew he had to do something so as to not look obvious, so he stepped back and quietly whispered, "Oh dear, I am sorry. I didn't realize you were upset. Are you alright?"
Realizing the absurdity of his words in the sound of his own voice, his heart leapt through his chest. In an instant he went from being drawn in by this sad stranger to wanting to flee as fast and as far as he could. But he stood his ground. He couldn't decide whether it was sheer fear or compassion that kept him there, but he waited what seemed an eternity for the girl to answer.
She turned to him slowly, trying to hide her look of surprise at the invasion of her world. She was too distraught to be angry with him and sighed as she saw the look of terror on his face. She knew he was genuine and was both relieved and comforted. "I will survive" she muttered as the back of her hand wiped at her cheeks. She attempted a weak smile to show her gratitude. He gave her the same weak smile back and offered his name;
"Hi, I'm Dan. I'm sorry for whatever it is that has made you so sad. This is too beautiful of a place to be sad in."
"Agreed. It is wondrous. I love it here. I have since I was a kid." She turned to look up to him fully; "I'm Rose."
And suddenly, with the ease of a relationship that has borne the test of time, they began to talk. They shared their love for the seaside and what had brought them there. They strolled the beach and chatted until the sun fell low in the western sky. Dan felt renewed from his afternoon with Rose and pleased with himself that he had gathered enough nerve to speak to her, for he would have lost so much if he had simply turned away. As he was wondering what the next step would be, he saw something incredible. It was a tiny soft pink rosebud just beginning to bloom at the edge of the beach where the wild grass was growing. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day, he thought. He smiled and turned to Rose, "Wait here!" and ran to fetch the rose.
When he turned back, a proud and loving smile on his face, she was simply gone. The long beach was empty and the sun was setting over the horizon. There was nowhere she could have gone. Nowhere. Dan stared and searched, his eyes flying wildly over the sand and water. Then he stopped and looked down. What he saw next sent chills up and down his spine. The trail of footprints all across the beach - all the way as far as his eyes could reach - were single file. She had never really been there.
Racing back to his car, tears from both fear and frustration now stinging his face, he reached for his keys. As he ran, he fumbled with them and they fell to the ground. "Dammit!" he thought wildly. As he picked up his keys and reached for the car door he looked up to the pier again. He stopped just long enough to hear the wind talk to him. He swore he just about heard "Thank you" coming from the end of the pier somewhere, yet no one was there. A calmness washed over him and he even managed a smile. Rose, he thought. He took the rosebud he had plucked for her out of his pocket - now somewhat diminished in stature but just as beautiful and tossed it into the sea. "Take this with you" he said under his breath. Then he turned and headed home as the sun finally diappeared into the sea, leaving the pier in peaceful darkness.
Dan watched her and became connected to her intensity from his seat by the beach.
The girl took the sea air in and her shoulders lifted and then dropped with her exhaled breath. Her gaze turned upwards as if for answers and her eyes closed tightly as more tears escaped from each side of her face again.
Drawn to her, Dan approached with caution. He didn't know if she was alone by choice or design, but he yearned to reach out and take her hand. Though a stranger, something about her saddened his heart - her broken spirit poured onto the pier like waves. Intent on finding out more, he gently stepped forward enough so that she would see him there, a few feet away, but slightly ahead of her. He tried to look casually at the sea swells and take them in, but now his position was precarious - if she had seen him, she hadn't acknowledged his presence, so he was left wondering what the next move would be. He could no longer see her expression to see if conversation was welcome. He knew he had to do something so as to not look obvious, so he stepped back and quietly whispered, "Oh dear, I am sorry. I didn't realize you were upset. Are you alright?"
Realizing the absurdity of his words in the sound of his own voice, his heart leapt through his chest. In an instant he went from being drawn in by this sad stranger to wanting to flee as fast and as far as he could. But he stood his ground. He couldn't decide whether it was sheer fear or compassion that kept him there, but he waited what seemed an eternity for the girl to answer.
She turned to him slowly, trying to hide her look of surprise at the invasion of her world. She was too distraught to be angry with him and sighed as she saw the look of terror on his face. She knew he was genuine and was both relieved and comforted. "I will survive" she muttered as the back of her hand wiped at her cheeks. She attempted a weak smile to show her gratitude. He gave her the same weak smile back and offered his name;
"Hi, I'm Dan. I'm sorry for whatever it is that has made you so sad. This is too beautiful of a place to be sad in."
"Agreed. It is wondrous. I love it here. I have since I was a kid." She turned to look up to him fully; "I'm Rose."
And suddenly, with the ease of a relationship that has borne the test of time, they began to talk. They shared their love for the seaside and what had brought them there. They strolled the beach and chatted until the sun fell low in the western sky. Dan felt renewed from his afternoon with Rose and pleased with himself that he had gathered enough nerve to speak to her, for he would have lost so much if he had simply turned away. As he was wondering what the next step would be, he saw something incredible. It was a tiny soft pink rosebud just beginning to bloom at the edge of the beach where the wild grass was growing. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day, he thought. He smiled and turned to Rose, "Wait here!" and ran to fetch the rose.
When he turned back, a proud and loving smile on his face, she was simply gone. The long beach was empty and the sun was setting over the horizon. There was nowhere she could have gone. Nowhere. Dan stared and searched, his eyes flying wildly over the sand and water. Then he stopped and looked down. What he saw next sent chills up and down his spine. The trail of footprints all across the beach - all the way as far as his eyes could reach - were single file. She had never really been there.
Racing back to his car, tears from both fear and frustration now stinging his face, he reached for his keys. As he ran, he fumbled with them and they fell to the ground. "Dammit!" he thought wildly. As he picked up his keys and reached for the car door he looked up to the pier again. He stopped just long enough to hear the wind talk to him. He swore he just about heard "Thank you" coming from the end of the pier somewhere, yet no one was there. A calmness washed over him and he even managed a smile. Rose, he thought. He took the rosebud he had plucked for her out of his pocket - now somewhat diminished in stature but just as beautiful and tossed it into the sea. "Take this with you" he said under his breath. Then he turned and headed home as the sun finally diappeared into the sea, leaving the pier in peaceful darkness.
Release
Though I sit and wait, nothing seems to find it's way.
I know the words are there, just waiting to pounce,
Yet they sit, abated by the keyboard
That once was so inviting.
Come on...let go...
A writing plague,
After so much time away
Should not be my curse!
Silence. Nothingness.
Like the edge of the universe.
Inspiration fails me
Though I know it's in me.
These tired hands match my tired brain.
My heart aches to be in the game,
But my mind won't connect.
Ahhh, a spark of recognition begins...
I understand where the kink in the thought is!
Damned self-intrusion!!
I undermine myself once again....
I am stuck in a moment, an instant of regret...embarrassment...when something you should be doing properly goes awry because you aren't on your game. Admittedly, the first stage of the downfall is internal frustration and then avoidance. Somehow we bounce along, thinking that as long as it's only ourselves that know, we can live with our own shortfalls. However, as soon as someone acknowledges the err of our ways, the game changes. We become accountable. Embarrassed. Regretful.
So, I did something I regret...no, it wasn't evil or intentional or hurtful, but it was irresponsible. Period. Oh, and let's add to the equation that this isn't the first nor shall it be the last time I have a moment of regret...because the reality is, I am human. It's in our nature; it's how we learn...and how we teach. The goal is to remember and not to repeat. What is the definition of insanity? Albert Einstein once said "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results".
So there it is. I've let it out. Now it's time to do something different before someone thinks I'm insane!
I know the words are there, just waiting to pounce,
Yet they sit, abated by the keyboard
That once was so inviting.
Come on...let go...
A writing plague,
After so much time away
Should not be my curse!
Silence. Nothingness.
Like the edge of the universe.
Inspiration fails me
Though I know it's in me.
These tired hands match my tired brain.
My heart aches to be in the game,
But my mind won't connect.
Ahhh, a spark of recognition begins...
I understand where the kink in the thought is!
Damned self-intrusion!!
I undermine myself once again....
I am stuck in a moment, an instant of regret...embarrassment...when something you should be doing properly goes awry because you aren't on your game. Admittedly, the first stage of the downfall is internal frustration and then avoidance. Somehow we bounce along, thinking that as long as it's only ourselves that know, we can live with our own shortfalls. However, as soon as someone acknowledges the err of our ways, the game changes. We become accountable. Embarrassed. Regretful.
So, I did something I regret...no, it wasn't evil or intentional or hurtful, but it was irresponsible. Period. Oh, and let's add to the equation that this isn't the first nor shall it be the last time I have a moment of regret...because the reality is, I am human. It's in our nature; it's how we learn...and how we teach. The goal is to remember and not to repeat. What is the definition of insanity? Albert Einstein once said "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results".
So there it is. I've let it out. Now it's time to do something different before someone thinks I'm insane!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Now What?
So I've sat so many nights, wanting to write but with the lack of mental clarity at such an hour to do just that. Life is so full it seems with the day-to-day routines of being mom, employee, mom, babysitter, cook, tutor and sometimes even a cleaner and wife that the "me" in me seems to have receded into some dark and cobwebbed corner of my brain. Every now and again - now for instance - I have a flashback to being Julie, the creative and open-minded young woman that had so many things on her Bucket List...a journey to Africa to help in a village somewhere; a theatrical success roaming the continent and beyond, honing my craft as I went; a writer of novels, maybe screenplays...young and confident with the world as my oyster. But...where did my pearl go? I have only the shell, devoid of the riches.
My greatest pledge, most constant desire was to become a mother. Family was always at the heart of my life. When God blessed us with our children I felt overwhelmed with joy. Now my life would truly begin...I would have children to be accountable to and to be a role model for. I would make the most of life and show my children how to go after what they wanted out of life, how to live being God's child...or so I thought.
How quickly "life" takes hold of those dreams and desires. How quickly being the victims of the ecomomy and losing income and losing a child and having twins changed what I had always thought would be the beginning and became what felt more like the end of opportunity for me. This was it - what life had in store for me. Don't ever for a moment think that I am not grateful for my beautiful family, although it may come across as though it isn't enough, I do know how very blessed I am...every day God reminds me of that.
No, it was a turning point for "Julie" the person, the adventurer, the ever-optimistic and confident woman that screeched to a halt with the suddeness of massive responsibility and reality of 'every day life' becoming mine.... I wasn't prepared for that. I, in fact, was going to be different! I had plans! Still, here I was...amidst diapers and demands and dishes and laundry and grocery lists and tight budgets...I had become "the average stay-at-home mommy". What a blessing and a disaster all rolled into one....
I have spent years trying to find my way through the fog of parenthood and asserting my ability to think beyond the mere poopy diaper and salvaged some of my sanity through volunteer work at school and the church. However, the reality of my impending mid-life crisis came packed with a punch when faced with re-entering the workforce. Oh, I once again was blessed with a good opportunity to work around my boys' school schedule, but at what cost? Never before had minimum wage been mine...never before had I felt so mush like a fish out of water working at a desk. I needed more, deserved more. This was it - my crisis had begun.
Thinking back to when my own mother went back to work, I felt I had missed my calling and should have completed teacher's college - I of course didn't have that epiphany until volunteering one day at the school. I loved it there; I think I smile the most when in that school helping the kids.... My mom was fortunate enough to start back to work after almost 20 years at home as a Teacher's Aid in a day care. She quickly and deservedly became a cornerstone of that daycare with her background raising three children, babysitting and older more settled outlook on life. I started thinking, 'well, I should do my ECE now and follow those footsteps so I can be in that environment with children; maybe even use my office experience to become a director of a day care one day'. Then I researched the education...too expensive, and where on earth would the time come from to study? There simply aren't enough hours in a day!
Next, I thought about adding my resume to the pile that get submitted to the board offices each week, but have been told it could take up to two years to ge noticed, if at all, then of course there are only temp positions at the entry level.... I feel too old to start so far down, besides which, I need an income. Am I sounding like a spoiled child yet?
Oh, there have been many other creative ideas that have sprung up over the past year...I would love to write stories and become a professional story-teller, or write for web-sites with the up and coming 'Mommy-Blogger' career boom...but seriously, what do I have to offer there? I know my kids, my life and I'm not even sure if I know myself so well any longer...what on earth could I write about that would be of interest? And never mind that I have no "credentials", no papers saying I have studied successfully the art of blogging or teaching or anything like that....
So here begs the question; now what?
This writing here is truly a random writing in the true sense of the words. I am blarting out everything as it has been cooped up in my head for too long and now needs to escape. I'm not really sure what of it all will make sense, nor am I concerned - to make a contemporary comparison, like a bad flu, I just want it all out of me...and onto a page (or screen as it were).
Now, I go to church more now again, and have found a wonderful home in a local church that all five of us have connected to very quickly and easily. I am learning more about connecting with God and communicating with him and being who He wants me to be. Maybe that has to do with some of my panic. I want to be the best daughter to Him I can be, and I believe and feel so strongly that I am on the cusp of something huge, of finding my true place here and fulfilling His will for me. I truly feel that somewhere within breathing range is that 'sweet spot' that will make me happy, help my family and do some good 'out there'.... I can almost taste it, yet I can't sense the flavour.... My colourful past has brought me so much variety in experiences, I just can't pinpoint my path. I suppose many a God-like figure might say that I must exercise patience and wait for God to be ready for me, but patience like that has never been a virtue of mine. I do hope God understands as I would never mean to offend!
I really feel strongly about nurturing my writing and also my desire to be around children....I must I suppose wait for God to help clear the clouds away so that I may see my path more clearly.... I have so much to offer...somehow...some way....
Ahhh, there it is - complete. 'Brain drain'. I may feel no closer to my destiny, but I definately feel further from my uncertainty!
Now for a cup of my new favorite cup of herbal tea and some rest for this weary head! If you happened to read through this posting (and made it all the way through to this statement), please feel free to comment with your suggestions or comfort from familiar experiences!! I believe everything happens for a reason, so if you've made it this far in this post, maybe it's because you have something to say too!!
My greatest pledge, most constant desire was to become a mother. Family was always at the heart of my life. When God blessed us with our children I felt overwhelmed with joy. Now my life would truly begin...I would have children to be accountable to and to be a role model for. I would make the most of life and show my children how to go after what they wanted out of life, how to live being God's child...or so I thought.
How quickly "life" takes hold of those dreams and desires. How quickly being the victims of the ecomomy and losing income and losing a child and having twins changed what I had always thought would be the beginning and became what felt more like the end of opportunity for me. This was it - what life had in store for me. Don't ever for a moment think that I am not grateful for my beautiful family, although it may come across as though it isn't enough, I do know how very blessed I am...every day God reminds me of that.
No, it was a turning point for "Julie" the person, the adventurer, the ever-optimistic and confident woman that screeched to a halt with the suddeness of massive responsibility and reality of 'every day life' becoming mine.... I wasn't prepared for that. I, in fact, was going to be different! I had plans! Still, here I was...amidst diapers and demands and dishes and laundry and grocery lists and tight budgets...I had become "the average stay-at-home mommy". What a blessing and a disaster all rolled into one....
I have spent years trying to find my way through the fog of parenthood and asserting my ability to think beyond the mere poopy diaper and salvaged some of my sanity through volunteer work at school and the church. However, the reality of my impending mid-life crisis came packed with a punch when faced with re-entering the workforce. Oh, I once again was blessed with a good opportunity to work around my boys' school schedule, but at what cost? Never before had minimum wage been mine...never before had I felt so mush like a fish out of water working at a desk. I needed more, deserved more. This was it - my crisis had begun.
Thinking back to when my own mother went back to work, I felt I had missed my calling and should have completed teacher's college - I of course didn't have that epiphany until volunteering one day at the school. I loved it there; I think I smile the most when in that school helping the kids.... My mom was fortunate enough to start back to work after almost 20 years at home as a Teacher's Aid in a day care. She quickly and deservedly became a cornerstone of that daycare with her background raising three children, babysitting and older more settled outlook on life. I started thinking, 'well, I should do my ECE now and follow those footsteps so I can be in that environment with children; maybe even use my office experience to become a director of a day care one day'. Then I researched the education...too expensive, and where on earth would the time come from to study? There simply aren't enough hours in a day!
Next, I thought about adding my resume to the pile that get submitted to the board offices each week, but have been told it could take up to two years to ge noticed, if at all, then of course there are only temp positions at the entry level.... I feel too old to start so far down, besides which, I need an income. Am I sounding like a spoiled child yet?
Oh, there have been many other creative ideas that have sprung up over the past year...I would love to write stories and become a professional story-teller, or write for web-sites with the up and coming 'Mommy-Blogger' career boom...but seriously, what do I have to offer there? I know my kids, my life and I'm not even sure if I know myself so well any longer...what on earth could I write about that would be of interest? And never mind that I have no "credentials", no papers saying I have studied successfully the art of blogging or teaching or anything like that....
So here begs the question; now what?
This writing here is truly a random writing in the true sense of the words. I am blarting out everything as it has been cooped up in my head for too long and now needs to escape. I'm not really sure what of it all will make sense, nor am I concerned - to make a contemporary comparison, like a bad flu, I just want it all out of me...and onto a page (or screen as it were).
Now, I go to church more now again, and have found a wonderful home in a local church that all five of us have connected to very quickly and easily. I am learning more about connecting with God and communicating with him and being who He wants me to be. Maybe that has to do with some of my panic. I want to be the best daughter to Him I can be, and I believe and feel so strongly that I am on the cusp of something huge, of finding my true place here and fulfilling His will for me. I truly feel that somewhere within breathing range is that 'sweet spot' that will make me happy, help my family and do some good 'out there'.... I can almost taste it, yet I can't sense the flavour.... My colourful past has brought me so much variety in experiences, I just can't pinpoint my path. I suppose many a God-like figure might say that I must exercise patience and wait for God to be ready for me, but patience like that has never been a virtue of mine. I do hope God understands as I would never mean to offend!
I really feel strongly about nurturing my writing and also my desire to be around children....I must I suppose wait for God to help clear the clouds away so that I may see my path more clearly.... I have so much to offer...somehow...some way....
Ahhh, there it is - complete. 'Brain drain'. I may feel no closer to my destiny, but I definately feel further from my uncertainty!
Now for a cup of my new favorite cup of herbal tea and some rest for this weary head! If you happened to read through this posting (and made it all the way through to this statement), please feel free to comment with your suggestions or comfort from familiar experiences!! I believe everything happens for a reason, so if you've made it this far in this post, maybe it's because you have something to say too!!
Monday, November 22, 2010
It's Been Awhile....
It's been awhile since I've been here -
A strange yet familiar place.
I've wanted to return time and again,
But life has become a hectic pace.
Instead of healing and taking deep breaths
I have been resigned to fleeting rests.
"Find the happy!" says the writing on my wall...
Obviously written through a much better time.
Now I hustle and bustle about
All the the while, just like a mime.
I've lost the momentum, the virver, the drive
That comes with feeling wonderous and alive.
Something inside has become detached
From the very soul of me, my inner self
But it's now or never - life doesn't wait
It's time to retrieve it from the shelf.
A strange yet familiar place.
I've wanted to return time and again,
But life has become a hectic pace.
Instead of healing and taking deep breaths
I have been resigned to fleeting rests.
"Find the happy!" says the writing on my wall...
Obviously written through a much better time.
Now I hustle and bustle about
All the the while, just like a mime.
I've lost the momentum, the virver, the drive
That comes with feeling wonderous and alive.
Something inside has become detached
From the very soul of me, my inner self
But it's now or never - life doesn't wait
It's time to retrieve it from the shelf.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Hermit Crab
Ahhh, the hermit crab - a charmed life. When you outgrow your environment, just crawl into a new one and continue on....
This year has been about saying goodbye to those old shells and trying to welcome change as if it was an anticipated guest. Like every year, this one has had its ups and downs, but the jury is out as to whether the downs outweigh the ups. If I look at things in a shallow light, the bad wins hands down, but if I look again with different eyes, the bad has only fostered more good, thus providing good with the win.
It's all in the perspective.
Written on the wipe board to my left are the following statements; "Work Hard Today!" "Trust God!" "Deep Breaths!" and "Find The Happy!" These are all things I both believe and have to remind myself of daily, if not hourly at times.
So, with that vibe in mind, I shall say this; I am not sure what tomorrow may bring, but I am confident with my ability to get through anything life throws at me, 5 minutes at a time.
And there's the answer...the "ups" prevail. What I have faced this year has doubled what I have learned, in both a literal and a figurative way. Nothing can ever be the same as it was, nor should it be. Time to embrace the new shell and leave the old for someone else to trade up to!
This year has been about saying goodbye to those old shells and trying to welcome change as if it was an anticipated guest. Like every year, this one has had its ups and downs, but the jury is out as to whether the downs outweigh the ups. If I look at things in a shallow light, the bad wins hands down, but if I look again with different eyes, the bad has only fostered more good, thus providing good with the win.
It's all in the perspective.
Written on the wipe board to my left are the following statements; "Work Hard Today!" "Trust God!" "Deep Breaths!" and "Find The Happy!" These are all things I both believe and have to remind myself of daily, if not hourly at times.
So, with that vibe in mind, I shall say this; I am not sure what tomorrow may bring, but I am confident with my ability to get through anything life throws at me, 5 minutes at a time.
And there's the answer...the "ups" prevail. What I have faced this year has doubled what I have learned, in both a literal and a figurative way. Nothing can ever be the same as it was, nor should it be. Time to embrace the new shell and leave the old for someone else to trade up to!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
blank page...
blank page
like the ocean
you baffle me
clear and free
of liter(ary) garb
quiet, untouched
almost beckoning
my creative mind
to make waves.
tormenting current
pulling me in
away from shore
past the middle
i continue to swim
strong, short lines
on new land
the ocean behind
i baffle no more
over the ocean
across the page
a bridge of words
like the ocean
you baffle me
clear and free
of liter(ary) garb
quiet, untouched
almost beckoning
my creative mind
to make waves.
tormenting current
pulling me in
away from shore
past the middle
i continue to swim
strong, short lines
on new land
the ocean behind
i baffle no more
over the ocean
across the page
a bridge of words
Simple Words
What do we have to offer but a few words?
A few words of wisdom
A few words of praise
A few words of support
A few words of sympathy
A few words of thanks
A few words of love
What do we have to offer but a few words?
for Jaime...
A beautiful angel flies through the sky
Hears our prayers as we say good-bye,
And carries them home to God above,
A sounding tribute of our love.
A boy so brave did grace our lives;
Brought us joy, such memorable times.
We can't forget his charming smile.
A blessing it was to know this child.
His positive outlook, his mischievous ways,
These beautiful memories will brighten our days.
To know that now he is at peace,
All the pain has now ceased,
Heals up to heal, helps us to see
The free spirit he came to be.
The chains that bound him here on earth
Have been set free in his rebirth.
For he walks now at God's side,
Each beautiful step filled with pride.
And while we here struggle in pain,
We know one day we will see him again.
So we give thanks to the time God gave
With this wonderful soul who was so brave.
Thanksgiving Grace
Today I was reminded of a moment long since silenced, but not forgotten. One moment that existed so long ago now...lives ago....
It was a time of happiness, expectation and naivety. Just like any other family, we were excited at giving our first-born a sibling. When the time came, we both wept momentarily as we realized that our family of three would soon become a family of four. Then we saw the doctor and everything began to change. I began to have issues with the pregnancy immediately. Even the doctor tried to prepare me with what only now sounds logical to my ears; "I'm not going to kid you - this could very likely be the beginnings of a miscarriage."
I don't remember ever being so frightened. I must have cried a river. I went to church to pray for strength and the health of our unborn child, already struggling to survive. I tried not to cry, to bring attention to myself, but my heart pounded with fear. My instincts were kicking in, but my heart wouldn't listen. I couldn't..wouldn't connect to this baby just yet.
It became difficult struggling with saving one baby at the expense of not being able to be a mother to my first child. He didn't understand and it upset me more. Being pregnant was supposed to be a happy time, a time to yell from the rooftops that our family was growing. Yet, here I was, afraid that people would see the fear in my eyes if I told them - it was easier not to let anyone know.
Days continued and nothing changed. I was no worse off, but no better either...which I made myself believe was a positive thing. Everything was so different from my first pregnancy that it masked the truths about what was happening - all of the signs were just chalked up to it being a different baby. All of the instincts I was having about this unborn child were underscored by some logical comparison.
Days ran into weeks, and things went up and down. When the symptoms returned so did the fear but I carried on, no idea what was on the horizon. That was Thanksgiving. Two weeks following that, the nightmare began.
The doctor didn't say much that morning, he just turned and picked up the phone to book an emergency ultrasound for me. My heart sank and the fear clutched at my throat as my stomach tied in knots. They took me right through at the clinic - an old little place that didn't emit comfort in the least, but as least there would be answers. The technician was quiet about her work and scowled at the monitor over and over. I knew something was wrong.... I tried to ask questions, but my fear grew as she explained she wasn't allowed to say anything. I begged her to show me the baby...so she relented. What I saw next was my own confirmation and the only glimpse I would ever have of our child. It was small, but it was etched into my mind forever. The technician turned the monitor away quickly and there was nothing to say. That was noon.
I waited for the reality of the doctor's phone call and hours went by. The phone didn't ring at 6, or 7 or 8 either. I called the doctor's office from our bedroom phone and left a message. there were splashing sounds of a happy toddler taking a bubble bath coming from the bathroom when the call finally came. I sat on the edge of the bed and listened...only the first few words were crystal clear; "It isn't good...." The rest trailed away as the shock took over and rawness of pain began sweeping through each vein in my body. I managed to finish the conversation, then say something quickly after hanging up before the sobs overwhelmed my voice. I ran to the sofa and threw myself into a ball in the corner of it. I had to make calls to family...they were also waiting to hear the news.... I managed to dial and spoke to my mom...but I could already barely speak. It hurt more to say it out loud. A short time elapsed before I felt mom's comforting arms around me. All I could muster by now was "My heart hurts" over and over and over again. I stayed there for hours, my heart hurting and breaking with every sob. I can't think now how it must have felt to grieve the loss of your grandchild, yet watch your daughter's world fall apart, but everyone took care of us first, without reservation or question.
I can't describe the feeling of carrying a non-living baby, however small, inside of you. The statement alone is raw and ugly. It's a bizarre and unjust thing to have to find emotions for. It was the loss of our dreams for this child - I was mourning the idea of who this child would become and how he or she would fit into our family. I was sad for our family - my husband, our son and myself - that this new child we had planned and wanted would not be.
I was strangely brave at the hospital for the procedure that morning - October 30th, 2002. I held up my chin and told myself it would all be over soon. Then when my husband had to leave and I was left alone to wait those final moments before surgery, the wall I had built around myself all morning began to tumble, brick by painful brick. I could hear the nursing station - the banter about something meaningless and I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs for them to shut up. How could anyone 'just be' when I was going through this hell?
Finally I went into the operating room. I remember clearly lying there, both arms strapped down, involuntary tears streaming down either side of my face. I said to the nurses, "I had thought the next time I would be in a hospital would be to deliver the baby, not for this...." The nurse dabbed the tears from my face as I felt myself finally drifting away....
When it was over and we went home, there was a long and devastating climb back to being myself again. The pain of the loss stung at every turn, made worse by the taunting of post-partum, which I had to endure without a baby to distract me.... Eventually I turned to friends and family to drag me up to my feet again. It was a call to my aunt - a priest - that helped me to finally let go. She knew I needed closure and suggested I name the baby in order to release it's spirit.
Grace. My Grace-angel. Never has a name come to me so easily.
I began to heal after that defining moment. I don't know at what point my Grace stopped being, but I do know that I gave her that name and let God take her home finally. And for that, God blessed me the following Thanksgiving with twins and my year had quite literally gone the full circle of life. My Thanksgiving babies...all three of them, share a piece of my heart and always will, along with my oldest baby. Grace is remembered most at Christmas now, with an ornament thoughtfully and lovingly placed on our tree every year....
Today I was reminded of my sweet Grace-angel. Now she lives here too, forever.
I love you my Grace.
Love, Mommy xo
It was a time of happiness, expectation and naivety. Just like any other family, we were excited at giving our first-born a sibling. When the time came, we both wept momentarily as we realized that our family of three would soon become a family of four. Then we saw the doctor and everything began to change. I began to have issues with the pregnancy immediately. Even the doctor tried to prepare me with what only now sounds logical to my ears; "I'm not going to kid you - this could very likely be the beginnings of a miscarriage."
I don't remember ever being so frightened. I must have cried a river. I went to church to pray for strength and the health of our unborn child, already struggling to survive. I tried not to cry, to bring attention to myself, but my heart pounded with fear. My instincts were kicking in, but my heart wouldn't listen. I couldn't..wouldn't connect to this baby just yet.
It became difficult struggling with saving one baby at the expense of not being able to be a mother to my first child. He didn't understand and it upset me more. Being pregnant was supposed to be a happy time, a time to yell from the rooftops that our family was growing. Yet, here I was, afraid that people would see the fear in my eyes if I told them - it was easier not to let anyone know.
Days continued and nothing changed. I was no worse off, but no better either...which I made myself believe was a positive thing. Everything was so different from my first pregnancy that it masked the truths about what was happening - all of the signs were just chalked up to it being a different baby. All of the instincts I was having about this unborn child were underscored by some logical comparison.
Days ran into weeks, and things went up and down. When the symptoms returned so did the fear but I carried on, no idea what was on the horizon. That was Thanksgiving. Two weeks following that, the nightmare began.
The doctor didn't say much that morning, he just turned and picked up the phone to book an emergency ultrasound for me. My heart sank and the fear clutched at my throat as my stomach tied in knots. They took me right through at the clinic - an old little place that didn't emit comfort in the least, but as least there would be answers. The technician was quiet about her work and scowled at the monitor over and over. I knew something was wrong.... I tried to ask questions, but my fear grew as she explained she wasn't allowed to say anything. I begged her to show me the baby...so she relented. What I saw next was my own confirmation and the only glimpse I would ever have of our child. It was small, but it was etched into my mind forever. The technician turned the monitor away quickly and there was nothing to say. That was noon.
I waited for the reality of the doctor's phone call and hours went by. The phone didn't ring at 6, or 7 or 8 either. I called the doctor's office from our bedroom phone and left a message. there were splashing sounds of a happy toddler taking a bubble bath coming from the bathroom when the call finally came. I sat on the edge of the bed and listened...only the first few words were crystal clear; "It isn't good...." The rest trailed away as the shock took over and rawness of pain began sweeping through each vein in my body. I managed to finish the conversation, then say something quickly after hanging up before the sobs overwhelmed my voice. I ran to the sofa and threw myself into a ball in the corner of it. I had to make calls to family...they were also waiting to hear the news.... I managed to dial and spoke to my mom...but I could already barely speak. It hurt more to say it out loud. A short time elapsed before I felt mom's comforting arms around me. All I could muster by now was "My heart hurts" over and over and over again. I stayed there for hours, my heart hurting and breaking with every sob. I can't think now how it must have felt to grieve the loss of your grandchild, yet watch your daughter's world fall apart, but everyone took care of us first, without reservation or question.
I can't describe the feeling of carrying a non-living baby, however small, inside of you. The statement alone is raw and ugly. It's a bizarre and unjust thing to have to find emotions for. It was the loss of our dreams for this child - I was mourning the idea of who this child would become and how he or she would fit into our family. I was sad for our family - my husband, our son and myself - that this new child we had planned and wanted would not be.
I was strangely brave at the hospital for the procedure that morning - October 30th, 2002. I held up my chin and told myself it would all be over soon. Then when my husband had to leave and I was left alone to wait those final moments before surgery, the wall I had built around myself all morning began to tumble, brick by painful brick. I could hear the nursing station - the banter about something meaningless and I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs for them to shut up. How could anyone 'just be' when I was going through this hell?
Finally I went into the operating room. I remember clearly lying there, both arms strapped down, involuntary tears streaming down either side of my face. I said to the nurses, "I had thought the next time I would be in a hospital would be to deliver the baby, not for this...." The nurse dabbed the tears from my face as I felt myself finally drifting away....
When it was over and we went home, there was a long and devastating climb back to being myself again. The pain of the loss stung at every turn, made worse by the taunting of post-partum, which I had to endure without a baby to distract me.... Eventually I turned to friends and family to drag me up to my feet again. It was a call to my aunt - a priest - that helped me to finally let go. She knew I needed closure and suggested I name the baby in order to release it's spirit.
Grace. My Grace-angel. Never has a name come to me so easily.
I began to heal after that defining moment. I don't know at what point my Grace stopped being, but I do know that I gave her that name and let God take her home finally. And for that, God blessed me the following Thanksgiving with twins and my year had quite literally gone the full circle of life. My Thanksgiving babies...all three of them, share a piece of my heart and always will, along with my oldest baby. Grace is remembered most at Christmas now, with an ornament thoughtfully and lovingly placed on our tree every year....
Today I was reminded of my sweet Grace-angel. Now she lives here too, forever.
I love you my Grace.
Love, Mommy xo
Friday, September 24, 2010
the cause continues...
In 1984 I was in grade 9. I remember learning about this Terry Fox guy who tried to run across Canada to raise money and awareness for cancer. We saw photos and heard his story and our high school, T.L. Kennedy, raised A LOT of money for the cause that year and every year that I was a student there.
As I watched my three young sons leave the house today with their "I'm walking for Grandma" hearts proudly pinned on their shirts, ready for their Terry Fox walk at school, I felt a surge of emotion. I am so proud to still be a part of that spirited run Terry started. I am thankful for his passion and courage that has inspired millions and millions of us around the globe. I am proud that my sons share the "do what we can, give what we can" attitude and I feel more connected to Terry's cause than ever, having struggled with my mother's diagnosis this past March and her fight ever since.
Cancer infects families, not just people...but today is about hope and love and remembrance. Terry has lived on in so many hearts and today we celebrate his life, his victories, his compassion. He has reminded us that the human spirit will always prevail and that one day, one beautiful day, cancer will only exist in history books.
As I watched my three young sons leave the house today with their "I'm walking for Grandma" hearts proudly pinned on their shirts, ready for their Terry Fox walk at school, I felt a surge of emotion. I am so proud to still be a part of that spirited run Terry started. I am thankful for his passion and courage that has inspired millions and millions of us around the globe. I am proud that my sons share the "do what we can, give what we can" attitude and I feel more connected to Terry's cause than ever, having struggled with my mother's diagnosis this past March and her fight ever since.
Cancer infects families, not just people...but today is about hope and love and remembrance. Terry has lived on in so many hearts and today we celebrate his life, his victories, his compassion. He has reminded us that the human spirit will always prevail and that one day, one beautiful day, cancer will only exist in history books.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Judgement Day
Lord, if this is my judgement day, then let it be known that I have trudged throught the trenches of your battleground. I have believed in You and mankind and it was not You that let me down.
Many things I have seen, many things I have felt...the beauty of nature, the content of love, the miracles of life, tragedies of death, disunity, poverty, hatred...war.
What has mankind done to his precious gift of life?
He has transformed it into shreds of disarray...replaced love with hate and peace with war. There are threads of hope, but they are not unified. Solitary. Fragments of a piece of mind that should be shared throughout creation> it can be rectified, renewed. There can be found an equilibrium that will bring with it peace and goodwill for all humanity. But it cannot be achieved by individualism.
Lord, You gave us life, You gave us the beautiful earth which we alone have tarnished. But I have hope. I am a diligent soldier on the war-torn fields of life. I accept my presence and search for a purpose in life that will fulfill me and bring new light into this darkened world. I pledge for peace, unity and happiness. I do not represent perfection, only the determination to attain it, to some degree, in sync with all mankind.
What I fear is not death, for it is not the end of being, but merely a passover into a new life where I can sit beside my Father and be free from pain. I fear the anguish of those who are left behind to struggle onward and experience great pain in the absence of loved ones.
Life is a grave challenge at times, but the battle is worth the outcome when I know that I can be with You and loved ones who You have called upon before me.
So, Lord, if this is my judgement day, then let it be known.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Pixie
Do you see her? She's there, in the garden - dancing in the rain; a perfectly beautiful pixie. Strangely familiar in my mind's eye...have I seen her before?
She is smiling and turning her gentle face skyward, opening her soul to the earth. The rain cascades over her welcoming face and outstretched arms as she spins in the grass - almost in slow motion - her white flowing dress chasing her as she turns.
She makes me sigh....
She is childhood - freedom; nakedness; purity. She is here to remind me; to sooth my aching soul; to turn my mouth upward in a crooked, thoughtful smile.
She dances there, drinking in the monment, like life's first breath.
As I watch her, she stops - her eyes smiling at me, beckoning me out to play. I am fixed on her, intrigued with her face. Like a photograph of my mother as a child I know her, yet know nothing about her.
She glistens in the rain, her bronzed hair strangely untouched and dry. Her smile widens as she sees me taking her in. I am frozen in the moment...I don't want it to end.
She turns her head skyward again and then laughs silently as she runs out of site, her bare feet gently skimming the wet grass.
I am alone again, but the rain doesn't seem so dreary now. I sip my coffee and smile.
She is smiling and turning her gentle face skyward, opening her soul to the earth. The rain cascades over her welcoming face and outstretched arms as she spins in the grass - almost in slow motion - her white flowing dress chasing her as she turns.
She makes me sigh....
She is childhood - freedom; nakedness; purity. She is here to remind me; to sooth my aching soul; to turn my mouth upward in a crooked, thoughtful smile.
She dances there, drinking in the monment, like life's first breath.
As I watch her, she stops - her eyes smiling at me, beckoning me out to play. I am fixed on her, intrigued with her face. Like a photograph of my mother as a child I know her, yet know nothing about her.
She glistens in the rain, her bronzed hair strangely untouched and dry. Her smile widens as she sees me taking her in. I am frozen in the moment...I don't want it to end.
She turns her head skyward again and then laughs silently as she runs out of site, her bare feet gently skimming the wet grass.
I am alone again, but the rain doesn't seem so dreary now. I sip my coffee and smile.
Melancholy day...
Rain dripping off the remaining fall flowers like the rain that dampens my soul.
Those flowers are quenched and flourish with the dreariness of the day, as I must do too...survival, through good and bad.
You can see only the rain, or you can choose to see how beautiful the yellow of the marigolds and the burnt red of the sedum look against the soaked and darkened wooden fence; the delicate white Rose of Sharon standing tall and almost glowing with white blooms; purple pansies planted in honour of Mother's Day gone by still basking with a vibrant pastel violet, resisting the cold nights that taunt the delicate petals; the shocking red wildflower blooms still popping up like intermittent bursts of love and hope; deep purple and white petunias still healthy and strong; and even the calming lavender finding purple rebirth against all odds.
Flowers grow, bloom and fight against the elements for their survival and their place of beauty for however long they can remain. Each one is different; unique in colour, shape and size...each one with its own special moments of perfection.
Life is a garden...which flower will you be?
Those flowers are quenched and flourish with the dreariness of the day, as I must do too...survival, through good and bad.
You can see only the rain, or you can choose to see how beautiful the yellow of the marigolds and the burnt red of the sedum look against the soaked and darkened wooden fence; the delicate white Rose of Sharon standing tall and almost glowing with white blooms; purple pansies planted in honour of Mother's Day gone by still basking with a vibrant pastel violet, resisting the cold nights that taunt the delicate petals; the shocking red wildflower blooms still popping up like intermittent bursts of love and hope; deep purple and white petunias still healthy and strong; and even the calming lavender finding purple rebirth against all odds.
Flowers grow, bloom and fight against the elements for their survival and their place of beauty for however long they can remain. Each one is different; unique in colour, shape and size...each one with its own special moments of perfection.
Life is a garden...which flower will you be?
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