Setting Intentions

Yesterday morning, I accidentally set my intentions for a day I didn't believe was going to unfold. Little did I know at the time, my day followed a completely different course than I expected. Was it because I wrote out my wish list for a "life of ease" I hope to attain one day? Or was it simply the luck of the draw?

I knew I had some dirty work to do first thing in the morning so I climbed into clothes that were one step away from being in the laundry hamper. I dressed for the task and did more than I expected to do. Was it because I was dressed for the job? Or did life just happen to work out that way?

I was motivated and excited to have accomplished more than I expected and I silently wished for a few more hours to follow the momentum of the morning. The phone rang and I was told I didn't have to go into work. Devine intervention? Or just plain luck?

I didn't set any records and accomplish any great feats. I simply took one forward step at a time, crossed a few more tasks of my mental to-do-list and eventually sat down with a late morning breakfast and one final cup of coffee.

Sitting down broke my momentum but it didn't stop my thoughts. I checked out names, numbers and prices for the outside maintenance which must be done this year. I didn't let any moss grow beneath these intentions and immediately started calling and inquiring. I had my first estimate a few hours later; second one is coming tonight; and a third is scheduled for tomorrow morning.

I vacuumed invisible dirt and not quite as invisible cat hair with the excess time and energy I had on my hands. After three consecutive days of vacuuming and wet mopping the laminate flooring, I can finally walk throughout the house and not end up with socks that look like cat hair slippers on the bottom.

I sent out a brief email, I scribbled notes along my way, I found myself following the outline of the "Life of Ease" I had written about as yesterday dawned. In short, my goals are:

1. Tame a wild rabbit or two
2. Register for some university courses
3. Set out and discover places within our fair city to simply sit back and watch nature unfold before my eyes
4. Explore our province
5. Set small goals each day
6. Read
7. Turn off all electronics, televisions and phones for a set time frame every day
8. Search for ways to keep connected to the people within my world
9. Take notes along the way so I will remember to write about the small stuff

I wrote these points at 8 a.m. By 9:00, I had received the call telling me I had the day off. By 11:30 I was lining up estimates. I had put in a good day's worth of accomplishments before noon. I had done "Six Impossible Things Before Lunch". 

Setting intentions is key. Morning is where it is at for me. How my day begins sets the tone for the hours that follow. 

It feels good to wake up to the morning sun beaming in my bedroom window. I need to get in the habit of setting those intentions before my feet hit the ground in the morning. Or better yet, I could follow Mom's example and go to sleep mapping out a plan for the next day. 

"Yes, Mom. I hear you. I will try to follow the example you have set."

Dreaming of a Life of Ease

What would I do if I had all the time in the world? These are the thoughts I ponder as I have recently started to dream of what "retirement" may mean in the up and coming years.

My very first thought is that I would like to tame a wild rabbit or two. Not to trap it in a cage and keep it for myself, but for this little creature to come to know I would do it no harm and supply it with some rabbit snacks and perhaps some hay ...

My second thought is that I would register for some university courses. Tuition fees are waived for those who are the age of 65 years or better. The idea of learning for the sake of learning and not having to seek out and find employment afterwards sounds like my idea of heaven.

I would set out and discover places within our fair city to simply sit back and watch nature unfold before my eyes. I have just spent the past fifteen minutes or so watching four robins in our neighbor's front lawn. To my inexperienced eyes, it looked like there were three males and one female. I would love to learn all I could learn about the wild life that I found along the way.

I would explore our province. Day trips to destinations unknown would be my entertainment. Find a friend, pack a light snack and coffee-to-go and follow wherever the road took us. We would find our own adventure, stop for supper on our way home and come home feeling as though we had just been on vacation.

I would set small goals. Clean out one drawer a day. One box of letters. One box of photos. One cupboard. One small step at a time, great things would happen over a long period of time.

I would read. I would immerse myself in a book so good that I would become lost within the pages. My best reading days felt like I took a vacation without having to leave the house. I have lost my love for reading over the course of time. I want to rekindle that fire.

I would turn off all electronics, televisions and phones for a set time frame every day to listen to the quiet. I would listen for "the knowing" and find my way to the next moment. I would be still. Every day.

I would search for ways to keep connected to the people within my world. I would stockpile stamps, envelopes and blank writing spaces so I could send words out into the world on a regular, yet sporadic basis.

I would take notes along the way so I could write about the small stuff each and every day.

I have reread my wish list and realize I have everything I need to start this life of leisure right now. Today. There is little holding me back.

Except work. Speaking of which, I must ready myself for a day away from home. It is no wonder this life of ease feels so elusive.

Movin' on Up

Well. I did it. I moved my bedroom back upstairs yesterday. Just in case I had any second thoughts, I moved every little thing. No trial run. I have moved back up.

Nothing feels quite right yet but I'm not giving up too quickly. It is time to peek my head upstairs and enjoy waking up to the sun.

I didn't wind down as easily. I didn't sleep well. But I did wake up and get up at an earlier than usual weekend waking time.

I vacuumed every nook and cranny of my old bedroom. I vacuumed and flipped the mattress then washed all the bedding. Other than a few items on the desk and a box of Kleenex, the room is completely vacated.

As I vacuumed the weekend away (the cat hair sagas continue), I was hopeful "if I cleaned it, they would come". And they did. Then they stayed for supper too.

As I emptied our (now) spare bedroom "suite", I remembered how I felt when I cleaned out the house as my daycare days wound down to a close. I felt like I was making room for change ...

I just searched the archives of my blog and found what I wrote back in October, 2016:

When the clutter and excess are gone, the dressers and closets emptied of everything that is not essential what will be left? How much can I simplify this life of ours over the course of the next three months? How far can I go? And what am I making room for?

There is not one thing whispering in my ear telling me the answers I am seeking. I just keep looking within these walls of ours and hear "Purge and release"and "Make room for change". If I empty it, they will come ...

I'm living in "The Field House of Dreams". I don't know where I'm going but I know what I must do next. That is enough for now.

True to the cycles of my life, I have been here before. I have felt this way before. The story of my life keeps repeating itself.

"What am I making room for?", I wonder quietly to myself as I vacated my most heavenly oasis of a bedroom. Perhaps? I'm making room for "me". Room to expand my horizons so I live a life that exists after I come home at the end of my work day.

I am so used to falling asleep at the drop of a pin, I thought it was odd that I didn't drop off so easily last night. Maybe, just maybe I am finding my way back to a new and improved normal. Maybe ...

Rabbit Watching

I was up at the crack of dawn this morning. Literally. My eyes popped open at 5 a.m., I immediately hopped out of bed, opened the living room blinds, then watched and waited as the sun brightened the morning.

Honestly, I was hopeful I would spot our neighborhood rabbits out for their morning stroll. I haven't seen our rabbit duo for a while now, though I have been pleasantly surprised to find a new young "kitten" [Did you know a baby rabbit is called a "kitten"?] who sleeps in until I leave for work in the morning.

This kitten appears to be more of a teenager than a baby. It is looks like a smaller version of the adult rabbits [my Google search tells me by the time a rabbit is 4 to 5 weeks of age, they look like a miniature adult] and its coat is full on summer tones. I spotted it in the rear view mirror as I backed out of the garage the two mornings ago. Yesterday, it was hopping about in our neighbor's yard.

This morning, I have set up camp in the living room so I can sit here with my coffee, go through my morning rituals and keep a keen eye open for our neighborhood rabbits:

This could become my new favorite morning spot...

... with a perfect view of our street 

As I sat here with my coffee and gazed mindlessly into the street, I thought of Mom's view as she sat in her spot at her dining room table. She too, had a perfect view of her street and was well aware of her neighbor's routines and the daily rhythm of movement around her...

The sun is beckoning to me these days. For the first time in years, I am feeling the pull to move my bedroom back upstairs. 

The effort it takes to put my feet on the floor each morning has been taxing. Waking up to a day off, with thoughts of how fleeting these next two days will be, I didn't want to waste a moment of the next 24 hours. 

It has been a very long time since I woke up to those thoughts. I think it is time to make a move to make mornings and rabbit watching my new favorite thing.

The Longest Short Week

Question to ponder: 

Would you rather work a slow and steady pace for five working days 
OR 
a frantic, stressful pace for three days?

Need I say more?

Good Morning

These were the very first words I read this morning: "I just wanted to let you know how thankful I am for your friendship..."

Let me backtrack before I go forward with this thought.

I haven't been jumping out of bed these bright and early mornings. No good excuse. I believe I'm just being lazy with my gratitude.

I grabbed a notebook and wrote down my worries-of-the-moment and the inevitable outcomes of  what runs through my thoughts on a constant loop. No outcome is good except to keep following the course I'm on.

I'm grateful for everything that is weighing me down. I simply feel heavy under its weight. Thus? Mornings feel hard.

Fast forward to this morning.

I awoke to two bright and early text messages. Signs from the universe [okay, okay, it was just a cell phone connection] that someone in the world happened to be thinking of me as they stepped into their day.

It is such a small thing. "I'm thinking of you" kinds of messages are such an easy thing to do. One never quite knows what is happening on the other end of the greetings we send out to the world.

If you are thinking of someone, let them know. You never know what is weighing them down. Other times, you may know what another is facing and feel like nothing you can say or do is enough. You could reach out and stone cold silence may be the response you receive, but the moment I wrote those words, I think of the words I have heard on more than one occasion. "Thank you for not giving up on me" ... "Thank you for writing" ... "I found your message exactly when I needed to read it" ...

I write this and know I'm not following my own advice. Perhaps this is what is weighing me down the most. I know it is truly the smallest of things that make the biggest differences. Am I doing my fair share within this world of mine?

I'm doing what I can. We all are. We never quite know what our day will bring. This can be a good thing or not.

When the weight of the world feels as though it is sitting on my shoulders, I know I must look up and out of the moment I'm in. I need to look up. I need to find the blessings within any given situation. I'm my own worst enemy when my thoughts turn negative. I know this. What I do with this insight is up to me.

Sometimes we need to sit in the moment. Listen to the silence. Listen to the sound of our own heart. Literally. Figuratively. Be still. Be still and know...

The trouble is, I don't get much done in my stillness. Cat hair is amassing as I sit. Maybe I need to revise that advise. Get busy. Get busy and figure it out!

Good morning to you! May you get the encouraging sign you most need to find. Look for the signs. Sometimes they are hidden. But usually, if you look hard enough you can find what you need to see.

Best Before Dates

In an archaeological dig within the remnants of a life I have a feeling a lot can be learned about a person based on the "best before" dates within their kitchen.

This seed of an idea was planted this past weekend when I went to assemble several consecutive meals. As I tried to cover all food and beverage basics and provide options, I dug into the archives of our kitchen cupboards and without even trying, I unearthed one great truth I know to be true. Life as we knew it stopped in and around 2016. The year my daycare closed.

Within one meal, I found a can of iced tea crystals, a can of corn and a bottle of salad dressing, all of which expired in 2016.

In one quick glance of a cupboard, while researching this post (a few moments ago) I found another batch of dry food items which either were created before "best before dates" were the norm or else expired in the years 2016 through 2018.

The expiry dates reveal food preferences, dates of life changing events, free food items, coupon availability, the lack of clearing out the cupboards and the inclination to believe "expiry dates are for wimps (see previous research here).

I amassed different groceries for different ages and stages of my life, my children and who came to visit.

Dry food and canned food items are a preference of mine, as each of these items withstand the test of time better than fresh food. In case of an unforeseen emergency, these are good food items to have on standby.

My inclination towards thriftiness is yet another reason I hold onto things longer than the date the retailer recommends.

Plus? I'm kinda lazy when it comes to culling old food items.

Our freshly renewed kitchen is holding onto many great secrets of mine. All of which can be discovered by digging deeper than the recommended "best before date".

Marie Kondo, I need to sit down with you and continue the process we started at the onset of this new year. I started your process, went through an entire main floor renovation with your inspirational words "Does this spark joy?" running through my mind on repeat and I still have a kitchen that holds onto expired food items. Even after the culling process was (supposedly) complete.

My one true wish is that I do not live beyond my own personal best before date. Yet my kitchen is the graveyard of many such items. It is no secret that I have a hard time letting go and moving on. Armed with this realization and seeing the words written before me don't hold the impact they should.

I would prefer to utilize that which we have before throwing it away. I vow to ensure everything passes the smell test and that nothing within the dry ingredients moves independently before I use them. This is all I can promise for now. Baby steps...

The Long Road Home

They say it is good for one's brain health to take different routes, learn a new language, take up dancing, etc, etc. Last night I decided to be very brave and I took a new way home from my son's home.

"Take the new bridge!", he said after the opening of the new North Bridge in our fair city. "Why would I do that when I had a perfectly good route that was familiar, straight forward and time effective?", I quietly thought to myself.

Last night, I decided that turning right during rush hour traffic could save me time and frustration verses turning left, without a set of lights to make the job easy. "I'll take the new bridge," I thought. "It will be an adventure," I encouraged myself.

I drove north when I needed to go west. I drove and drove. Then drove some more. "Did I cross the river without realizing it? Was I out of the city? Would this road take me where I thought I should go?"

At no point did I find this enjoyable. I never felt lost but I was pretty sure this was not the most expedient way home.

At long last, I found the landmarks I expected to see. Along with those landmarks, came rush hour traffic. The logical way back into the city would be back logged with vehicles.

As I tried to find a logical reason why I was so far out of my way, I decided I could make a "quick" trip into Costco to make this detour worth my while. While I thought I was getting myself out of a must-turn-left lane, I found myself in a lane where making a left turn into the (very busy looking) Costco parking lot was an impossibility.

So I kept on going.

I was certain the road I was on would take me to the highway to Edmonton. I could detour outside the city and take the highway less travelled to get me back into home territory.

The road was long. I never come at this particular highway from an westward direction. I am always coming in from the east.

Roads less travelled feel like they take so much longer, without familiar sights to guide you. I was on a double lane highway, knowing I had to turn left. I just didn't know how soon this would happen so I stayed in the passing lane, while ensuring I wasn't holding up any traffic behind me.

Sweat was thinking about accumulating on my brow. I was not only out of my comfort zone, I felt like I may have slipped into another time zone due to the excessive mileage I was travelling.

Finally, finally, finally the signage appeared and I got to turn left and head home on my warm and familiar highway. I would have never guessed that this road would not come with an extended left-turn lane so I turned on my signal light well in advance of my turn. I looked in my rear view mirror and was relieved to see the car behind me yield to my need to slow down. I had made it this far. I didn't want to end up in an accident this close to my destination.

That worn, familiar highway never looked so good. But even it felt longer as I anxiously made my way towards home. They took down the signage at my street but thankfully I recognized it anyway. Another left turn and no one rear ended me on this highway either.

I drove 15 km's out of my way, took an extra 15 minutes to get home and forgot to relax and enjoy the view. This all started so I could avoid "turning left".

When my brain functions start slowing down and the experts remind me of all the ways I can exercise and rewire my brain, they may mention "taking new routes home" as a suggestion. I think I may try to learn Spanish instead.

Another for the "Things That Really Don't Matter" File

I have found myself with an unexpected fifth day off on this ultra-long, long weekend. Five days off, with a three day work week to follow? Who says wishes don't make dreams come true?

I just realized this means I have the time, groceries and desire to cook one more meal (does taco salad count as a meal?) before heading back to work tomorrow.  

I bought an ambitious amount of groceries for this past weekend. My goal was to ensure no salad or food with a "best before" date went to waste. I have almost succeeded.

I now realize I should have set a loftier goal. For example, this would have been a most excellent weekend to clean the garage. But that would have involved the need to wash my hair. I really have to be in the mood to deal with my untamed locks on a day other than my regularly scheduled hair washing day.

Has it come to this? I would prefer to cook over washing my hair?!?

More importantly, I find myself with little more to write about than cooking and hair after five days off. That is the scariest thing of all. 

Meandering Thoughts

Nothing too terribly deep or thought provoking has been tumbling through my mind this extra-long-weekend.

I have woken up to four glorious days of "I Get to Stay Home Today!!" and it has been completely and totally amazing. I love being home. I adore mornings when I awake to the knowledge I don't have to pry myself out the door. It has been nothing special but everything wonderful all wrapped up in one small package.

Yesterday, Jet (cat) & I woke up and watched Planet Earth together. This morning Ray (second cat, technically the First Cat) hopped off the bed, threw up on the floor, hopped back into his sleeping spot and continued to rest like nothing ever happened (yes, I need these gentle reminders to nudge me into remembering why I LOVE our laminate flooring). There is truly nothing like waking up to these two black kitties resting on opposite corners of our king size bed.

I issued several invitations into the world. Some worked, some didn't, some were delayed yeses, some resulted in a deep and meaningful telephone conversation instead and ALL of the invitations resulted in me cooking meals this weekend.

I don't do much when I stay home but I DO try to cook (or provide food in some capacity - sometimes it is frozen; other times it is ordered in). Some people may have done yard work and cleaned the garage. Me? I cooked. Twice. Plus, I barbequed hot dogs one night. I feel like a super hero.

I am coming out the end of four days off and I have little to show for it except for leftovers in the fridge. I have a calm and happy heart too. Does that count for anything?

Weekends such as these make me wonder what retirement may look and feel like in my small little world. On one hand, I would hate to create a life where I didn't fully appreciate these wonderful, glorious "small nothings" that mean so much to me. On the other, I totally want to create a world where these extra-long-weekends came about on a somewhat regular basis.

I am lucky enough to have some flexibility within my work world. Maybe I can recreate this four-day-weekend from time to time. Maybe I already have done this (I just checked my calendar to find I have created extra long weekends the past three months).

I do live a charmed life. My wishes are granted on a fairly regular basis. I hope I never get to greedy and hope for more than is attainable. This is a pretty good balance of work/play/family/down-time. I honestly don't believe I could hope for more.

Netflix - The Cat Channel

Jet, our bored little black kitty, snuggled right up beside my head this morning just as I was going to get up. He rarely snuggles up with me, so I grabbed the TV remote control and hit "play" on the next suggested show on Netflix while I waited for Jet to move on with his morning. The next show in the queue happened to be Planet Earth.

The only movement from Jet from that point onward was his rapt attention on the television screen. He was intrigued by the animals but when the birds started showing off their mating dances, his ears perked up even more.

I thought he was going to jump off the bed and go investigate. But he knew better. He simply laid back and watched the show.

All I could see was the back of his head, the subtle movements as I could sense him following the movements of whatever wildlife he was watching and the instinctual twitch of his senses when the birds arrived on the scene.

Needless to say, I stayed still for the entire episode. The unwritten rule of cat parenting is "Don't disturb a content cat".

Jet's attention started to wane when they started showing the melting glaciers and highlighted the warming of the north and south poles. With no animals in sight, he lost interest. He moved from his snuggling spot and started his day...

On we go. A later-than-planned start to the day, with a little added food for thought for the day thanks to Planet Earth.

This world we live on is a miraculous thing. I do agree with Jet though. With no animals in sight, it is a totally different story.

Revelling in the Moment

Life has been very generous with moments which have sparked joy, connection and resulted in an extra long weekend where I am simply waking up with a grateful heart.

My good fortune started a few mornings ago, when I thought I heard the hum of a familiar motor close by but talked myself out of believing it was true. Imagine my delight when I spotted my middle son on our back step, with tools in tow to fix the separated laminate flooring in the hallway.

He had a 10:00 meeting and I had some leeway as to when I should leave for work so we took some time to share a cup of coffee after the flooring issue was rectified (YAY!!!). It was a power visit but not too short to be meaningful.

I started my day with a spring in my step and the day unfolded easily.

Late that afternoon, I received a message from my sister. She was asking if she could utilize one of the spare beds in our home as she had a middle-of-the-night airport drop off and didn't want to drive home alone at that "ungodly hour". My immediate response? Sure!!

My sister arrived at 4:10 a.m., we had a short visit, then we each headed off to our respective sleeping quarters to grab a few more hours of sleep. This resulted in waking up to a completely unexpected and perfectly timed early morning visit. It was such an unexpected gift.

My youngest son and I ended up with a mutually obligation-free day. An easy conversation at home led to a drive, which led to sitting in a quiet, sun filled restaurant. The conversation that came as a result of this most perfectly un-choreographed day was deep.

We covered topics that were parallel to what I had discussed with his older brother the previous morning.

Parenting, forks in roads, the fear of worst case scenarios and eventual outcomes were discussed. I sat in the parenting seat and reflected from my vantage point, while my sons spoke about their side of the same story.

I am so grateful to be looking at these particular moments in my rear view mirror. I remember the feeling well. I was fearful of the impact of handling a situation wrong, missing clues as to what was really going on with my children and the long term effect of life as we were living it.

I see where we are today and I am grateful we have come through the other side of situations which could have played out so very differently.

I think of my own life where I strayed off the path and wandered into unfamiliar territory. I truly believe it was my own personal homing device that guided me back to create the familiar feeling of "family, home and safety" that kept me from straying further. Recreating the home I grew up in was my guiding light and the best way I could try to parent my children.

As luck would have it, I will be available to my oldest son as he has day surgery a few days from now. The opportunity to have one-on-one time with each one of my boys has presented itself to me in the most unexpected fashion. I have no idea how conversations will unfold with my oldest but I am grateful for the occasion to simply show up and be there.

I am revelling in the moment right now. I've issued a few invitations but have few expectations. The door is open to whoever shows up. It is my hope to create the opportunity for "more of the same" but memorable moments can't be planned. They just happen.

"Don't force anything. Let's just go with the flow. If it isn't an easy yes, it's a 'no'. No expectations." These are the conditions I hand out with my invitations. If everyone follows these simple rules, great things may (or may not) happen.

A Very Good Friday

Today has been idyllic. I couldn't have planned a better day.

A completely last minute call from my sister ended up with her waking up here in our home. Waking up to a Friday off and a relaxed breakfast visit with a sister? A most perfect way to start a day.

My youngest son returned from an early morning rehearsal and sat down to visit with us. After my sister left, my son and I gravitated towards our comfortable and inviting living room and had an easy visit which ended up with a "Friday Drive".

The weather was perfect. The sun was shining. My son felt like driving. All I had to do was grab my purse and go along for the ride.

We completed our mission and even though we had a kitchen full of groceries, I said it felt like we should go out for a late afternoon lunch. He agreed. So we did.

We sat in a nearly empty sunny fast food restaurant. We chatted easily. Our conversation started in one place, then led all over the map as we sat without distraction and enjoyed our afternoon without the demands of the day pulling at either one of us.

We spent a few hours together under the same roof, both of us upstairs without chatting. I threw some hot dogs on the barbeque for a light supper to top off our late afternoon lunch.

Eventually we ended up in the back yard and spent some time with our cats enjoying this beautiful April day.

My son has his evening planned so we have parted ways. I'm left to sit back and enjoy the afterglow of a perfectly wonderful Good Friday.

Parenting - It is Not For the Weak of Heart

I have yet to meet a parent who declares, "I've got this! I did this all right and I've raised an ideal human being." Heavens, I haven't even met a pet owner who could make this sweeping declaration.

Children aren't born with user manuals. Even if they were, each set of instructions would be unique to the child despite the fact they came from the same genetic pool of options their siblings were created from. The instructions would change by the minute and one outcome would not guarantee the next. And, even if each child arrived with their own set of specific instructions, it would not account for the parent changing, learning, evolving or simply being an imperfect being. 

We are not hard wired for perfection. Life is action/reaction based. Despite the vast amounts of information on raising children available to us, I believe we are imperfect humans doing our best in an ever changing climate.

As I sit and write these words, the errors of my ways during my parenting years flash before my eyes. I was a young, inexperienced parent with my first child. I was a more mature but still evolving parent with my second. I was pretty laid back with my third child. I was three different parents to three different children. The child I was raising and the person I was in a specific moment in time was ever evolving. 

Now that my children's ages range from 20 to 40 years, I have reached a point where I can relax a bit and simply enjoy the adult human beings I have known since the moment they were born. I am grateful to say I enjoy my adult children. As I watch them navigate the world I am pretty pleased with the citizens they have become and the lives they are creating for themselves.

I look at the variables in place as I raised my young family. What I once deemed a setback, I now see as lesson my children could utilize to overcome obstacles as they lived their life forward. 

While my children didn't do without, they grew up knowing there was not an excess of money to be had. Each of my children took this and it became a tool to either ensure they were in a better financial position ... or believed there was a way out of their existing financial crisis ... or simply made spending decisions based on what money they had in the bank. 

My children weren't raised in a home with a father. One knew their father too well and that didn't bode well for his future. A second came to know that same father and as an adult, he applauded me for walking away from that life and creating the home he grew up in. That same son told his youngest brother to appreciate and acknowledge the dad he had. My third son had a different father and despite the fact his dad and I parted ways, he acknowledged his son on special occasions and tried to keep in touch. Young children often don't appreciate what they have. I was grateful my middle son nudged his younger brother to not only keep that door open, but walk through it and reciprocate his father's kindness.

I never saw single parenting as a disadvantage. Not when parenting together would have created such dissension that it would have affected our children in a negative manner. 

I have spent my parenting years confessing my parenting sins to friends, family and other parents. The more honest I am, the more I hear an echo of a different version of the same story. We are all learning as we go. Reacting the best we can despite all outside factors. We all want the best for our children. And I truly believe we desperately want our children to know we have done and are doing our best. 

As I navigated my day yesterday, I crossed paths with a dad who sounded like he could use a little moral support. I met this dad while I was running my daycare and I still have his child's Daycare Information Sheet (a form I had each parent fill in, so I would have likes/dislikes; medical/emergency contact information; and simply any kind of knowledge to help me get to know the child). Of all the information sheets I collected over the years, this dad's compilation of information stood out. He adored his child, knew him so well and his world revolved around being the best dad he could be for his (then) four year old child.

I took a picture of this sheet the dad filled out 18 years ago and sent it to him. His response was one that I think all parents should keep in their parenting handbook and remind themselves of when the going gets tough:

"I really miss those days. So I need to make decisions knowing that someday I'll think about today and say 'I really miss those days' ".

The most profound parenting wisdom I've ever heard. It applies to parenting as it does to simply living life on a daily basis.

What Mom Didn't Tell Me

"Aging is not for the weak of heart" is a sentiment I hear, feel and see a lot of lately. One's body changes, a hip or knee goes awry, bones become more prone to breaking, memories may fail, hearing and eyesight is often affected, independence may be lost, housing situations may change, a good night's sleep is often a thing of the past and a myriad of illnesses may or may not be diagnosed, changing the way one lives their life.

Mom was not one who liked to speak of any of the above. I can think of numerous occasions where she would simply scoff and make a comment that made one aware that she couldn't remember the last time she had a good night's sleep. 

Mom simply didn't complain of ill health until she had reached a state where medical intervention was required. Other than her "funny head" we heard very little about aging from Mom. There was ONE time when she leaned in to tell me something I knew was going to be important. 

We must have been speaking of personal grooming, shaving legs and such. In a very hushed tone, she told me "Something you rarely hear, is that your hair stops growing at some point ...", which was translated to mean that eventually you don't have to shave your legs. 

I smiled to myself and recalled this very personal conversation with Mom when I reached the point of not needing to shave my legs. I kept up the habit for a while, then winter arrived and I let things slide.

Spring has sprung and I happened to think of my winter white legs and the eventuality of having them see the light of day. Upon close examination, I found one long black hair on one leg. I thought I would have to shave after all. But I kept forgetting. Then I thought to examine my need for hair removal again and noticed one long black hair on my other leg and a short hair on the leg that sprouted the first long hair. 

I laughed to myself when I realized a razor wasn't required to shave three hairs. I pulled out the tweezers and one, two, three! I was done.

Mom never told me about this. I have reached the age where the stray hairs that grow on my chin have exceeded the hairs on my legs. 

Entitlement Syndrome

Last night's quick trip to pick up a few items on my way home from work felt like an exercise in futility.

I walked into the store and immediately found myself in the Easter candy aisles. It took but a few minutes and I found the discount mini Easter eggs I have come to enjoy, then went directly to where my official list item numbers one, two and three were located.

Item #1 was too expensive, had too many choices, then when tried to narrow down my selection I discovered I didn't want what they had. I walked away with my cart carrying only my Easter candy.

Item #2 was no where to be found. Only my Easter candy remained.

Item #3 could only be bought within a set of other items I didn't need or want to purchase. This could prove to be a very cheap trip.

Item #4 was not available in the size I was looking for but I found the silver lining when I reminded myself of the savings in buying in bulk. Cat litter never goes to waste in our home but I haven't been buying the 50 lb size lately. It is simply too heavy.

I lugged the 50 pounds worth of cat litter into my almost empty cart and continued on my merry way.

As I walked up and down the food aisles, I was dismayed at the number of times I went to look for a specific item on the shelves and came up empty handed.

To add to my frustration, the store has done a major reshuffling of their groceries and I was having a heck of a time finding half the items left on my list.

As I checked out my cart (now filled with groceries I may or may not have really needed), it felt like this should be a cheap shopping expedition considering all the things I couldn't find. It wasn't.

I'm not a big fan of grocery shopping to begin with. Tack it onto the end of a long day and make it even longer by having to put away groceries and I was just a little testy.

I sat down at 8:30 and officially called it a day.

I woke up this morning with an "entitlement" hangover. We live in a country where we expect to find our grocery shelves fully stocked with an array of items so we can pick and choose according to our needs, wants and personal taste. More often than not, our stores do meet these standards. How dare I feel so entitled that I was a tad miffed that I couldn't find exactly what I was looking for? Shame on me.

I padded through my morning, turned on the kitchen faucet and marvelled over the fact we have clean, safe and readily available water "on tap".

I flushed the toilet and again appreciated the convenience of having the luxury of having not only enough water to take care of the job at hand, but a sewage system that is a basic part of our city's infrastructure.

I grabbed my back-up supply of frozen fruit I had on hand to make my morning smoothie. Food on hand, electrical appliances that are run by what feels like an endless source of power ...

I noticed yet another spectrum of light on the kitchen cabinets due to the angle of the back door and the way the sun was hitting the decorative light in the window. "Let there be light."

In the light of day, I simply felt grateful.

Grateful for the services that are not only provided as part of the convenience of where we live, but where our expectations are met and exceeded on a regular basis.

I saw the light. I felt ashamed of my petty grievances from last night. I thought I knew better. But I have been humbled. How dare I feel entitled to the privileged life I lead? I am suffering from a hangover of "Entitlement Syndrome". Today? I shall do better.

Sunday

I love Sundays. I like Saturdays too but Sundays have a special flavor to them as it feels like an official day of rest. I think I read somewhere that ... on the seventh day, They rested. Mom has memories of her own hard working mom resting on Sundays. I love a day that feels officially earmarked for kicking back, relaxing and enjoying whatever the day has to offer.

This particular Sunday is followed by a Saturday which was in my estimation ... perfection.

I enjoyed my leisurely morning and the phone rang just as I should have been picking myself off the kitchen chair and moving forward with the day.

A friend dropped by. After she left, I found a message from my son inviting me to join them for coffee and to walk the paths by the river. This led to an invitation to my other sons to come join us for supper.

I was home early enough to enjoy what was left of the evening. I could not have imagined a more perfect way to spend the day.

It was a day without a plan that worked out better than a perfectly choreographed agenda could have.

I love days that simply unfold without a map. Incoming or outgoing invitations slide perfectly into place, one thing leads to the next and it simply feels like everything is as it should be.

Today has started in a somewhat similar manner. I have had a few "hard things" to do. Washing my sheets and coloring my hair are behind me. All I have to do is hop in the shower, get dressed and let this day unfold without an agenda.

It is another day without a plan. I love Sunday!

In the Light of Day

I hear the echo of my whiny inside-my-head voice belly aching about the days starting so much earlier and I shake my head.

I love the sun. I need the sun. I crave the sun. Yet I complain when it forces me up and out of my restless slumber before I think I am ready.

Sometimes, when you watch carefully, life shows you what you need to see...

I was puttering about, during my far-too-early morning, and when I went to the coffee cupboard, I found this reflection. 

I had never noticed it before. Not in all my years of living here, have I come across this light show.

I stepped back to find the source of the prism of light I was marvelling over. It was coming from our back door window.

I got this door over three years ago, yet I have never come across the spectrum of light I discovered this morning.

I was at the right place, at the right time, on a cloudless morning, while the sun was at the perfect angle to create this gift of light.

If I had slept in a moment longer, I could have missed the show.

Oh, what small wonders there are to behold in the light of day. I wonder what else I am missing out on ...

Running on Empty

I have a small (10 ml) tube of lip balm that I have been squeezing dry for several months now. I thought the tube was almost empty when I started playing this game of rolling it up from the bottom and squeezing what I could out of the dregs of this tube.

I already have a plan to cut open the tube after the tube runs dry. But this tube just keeps giving and giving. Then giving some more.

Yesterday morning, I was almost certain would be the day. The day prior was almost a "no go". Yet, when I started the ritual of rolling up the tube from the bottom, lip balm started squirting out the opening from an air pocket which had been created. 

This little tube just keeps giving and giving. It has come to symbolize what "running on empty" means to me.

Even when we look depleted, feel depleted, have served our purpose and have squeezed every last bit of life out of whatever we have to give ... there is often just a little bit more within us than we realize.

I see this trait within people who have earned the privilege to simply put their feet up and enjoy life. Yet they keep on going, working, giving and striving some more. 

Running on empty looks different on everyone. I hope I remember to think of this little tube (and the people who have modelled this way of living) every time I feel depleted and empty. 

Don't give up. You have more within you than you are giving yourself credit for ...

Mornings and Me

I love mornings. Morning is the part of my day before the world expects anything of me. I sit in the quiet and do whatever I want to do before the "noise" infiltrates my world.

I squeeze in what I used to love about quiet time, while I had my daycare. I have a raft of word puzzles and Suduko that I used to do while my daycare family napped or watched a movie. I enjoy this routine. I will keep it.

I longingly look back on my daycare days and have such fond memories of quiet time. Presently, I have no way to insert an hour of "quiet" into the midpoint of my work day. I miss quiet time. I miss it a lot.

I have reinstated my daily writing habit since the onset of 2019. Even if I don't have the right words to post aloud, I write whatever comes to my mind in a daily journal. Unfiltered thoughts are allowed to be voiced. As I write aloud without a care in the world about my words being read by anyone but myself, I seem to find my own answers as I let those words go.

I am forever in search of "my answers". Things I already know but have to unearth them from time to time. Writing is my therapy. I have felt much saner since I started setting my words free on a daily basis. I don't always like my voice but I fear that if I censor my thoughts too much, they may all come out in an endless rampage if ever I lose control of my censor button. I believe it is good to release the bad with the good. I'll keep this too.

I love my morning coffee. I don't even think it is the flavor of the coffee that appeals to me. Coffee signifies time I have put aside just for "me". Coffee and visiting. Coffee and friends. Coffee and sitting outside. Coffee with Mom back in the day. It isn't really the coffee. It's what goes along with it. I like to set aside time for two cups of coffee on weekdays. Three cups are reserved for weekends.

I savor the alone time. Time where I don't have to speak. I believe I am exceeding my daily word quota on a regular basis. My alone-time in the morning helps to regenerate the word requirement of the day.

All this said, I cannot believe what I am going to write next. The moment I wake up and see the sun starting to peek in my window is one of the hardest parts of my day. I don't feel ready to face the day ahead of me.

I talk myself out of this notion and remind myself of how much I will enjoy those hours I have set aside. All I have to do is put my feet on the floor and take one step in a forward direction. And I do.

I have nothing left in me at the end of my days. I come home on empty. All I want to do is climb into my pajamas, grab my Pringles and savor those moments of turning myself "off". It is a moment akin to the ceremonial "closing of the living room drapes" the moment my daycare day was over where I tell myself "I am closed for business".

My daycare days were long. But they ended earlier in the day. I am struggling with my new hours. I've been doing this for 2-1/2 years but I have yet to find my sweet spot. Thus, I believe I rely too heavily on my co-dependence on chips to get me through the night.

We cannot recreate the past. The best we can do is keep what has worked for us and let the rest go. I'm trying. But there just don't seem to be enough hours in the day. I think this is due to the fact that the sun is getting up before I'm ready for it.

Yes, I shall just blame the sun. Give me six months and I'll be complaining of too little sun. Sometimes? I think I am impossible to please. Honestly ....

Life Cycles

The longer I live, the more I find myself recreating a life I thought I had left behind. I see this on so many levels.

I went to my "Positive Thinking Articles" to find an article to articulate my thoughts and found myself wading through notes I could have written yesterday and positive words I have saved which speak to me today.

I've been here. I've done this. I've pulled myself up and out of the mire time and time again.

Why do I keep finding myself "here"? At a place where I'm wondering what is next and how to handle the present.

I could have sworn that I had learned this lesson the last time. Every time life gets hard, I find myself quitting. I've quit relationships, I've quit jobs, I've walked away and abandoned the life I created so I could start all over again. Time and time again.

The lesson I most likely need to learn is that quitting is not the answer. The answer lies in staying true to the course, overcoming obstacles and gaining a new perspective from the next level one hits at that point.

It's always darkest before the dawn. That's what they say. Dawn is arriving far too soon all of a sudden. I prefer the darkness ...

Dragging My Feet

I am suddenly going through socks at an alarming rate. The first influx of finding at least one hole in at least one sock at the end of each and every day didn't surprise me. My mid-winter replacements of my winter stock of socks never quite lasts until spring. The timing was right.

I keep extra socks on hand, the way I stock my groceries. One "in use" product, with more "back up" products in stock. Each and every spring, I hope my winter socks will last until the bare foot season, so when fall arrives I am rewarded with the intoxicating feeling of wearing brand new socks.

With all of my socks wearing out in warp speed, I knew there was no hope of making them last. I brought out my new fall stock of socks and carried on.

Then my fall stock of socks started sprouting holes. Not only on the heels, but the toes. Not only one at a time, but both at once. What was wrong with these defective socks? Should I try to return them? This was crazy. Socks should last more than a few weeks ...

Then I had an out of body experience. I remembered asking my son if he found himself unconsciously sliding across the new laminate (or was it just me?).

I have been skating across our new flooring ever since its been laid. Then I cleaned it with a cleanser that left a residue which interfered with the easy gliding I had grown accustomed to. The floor had gained resistance to "the slide" so I washed it time and again with only a slightly noticeable difference. I was wondering if I would have to resort to sprinkling a light layer of sawdust around the floor to recreate the surface I had grown accustomed to gliding across.

I brought this dilemma to the attention of my siblings while they were here. They agreed the fault must be in the quality of the socks. Then my sister noticed herself gliding her feet over the surface of the floor even while seated. So the blame started to shift to the laminate. Aha! My son has been wearing out his socks too! I believed we were onto something.

Fast forward to the last morning of our Sibling Sleepover. My sisters were sitting in the living room while I grabbed my coffee before I joined them. They told me I do tend to drag my feet (the unspoken words were "So that must be why you are wearing out your new socks").

The mystery was solved. I went out and restocked my back up supply of socks and life moves on.

Life is like that. At least mine is.

I drag my feet at getting hard things done. I drag my feet and procrastinate on a regular basis. I drag my feet literally and figuratively on many levels of my life. Then I wonder why I feel burnt out, worn out and bedraggled.

When I pick up feet up off the floor and get things done, I have more energy, more enthusiasm and more life.

I'm not only wearing out my socks, I am wearing myself out.

It is much more beneficial to pick up one's feet, move in a forward direction and save the wear and tear on your body, mind and soul (and soles of my socks!).

Having recognized this, one would think it would be best to simply relearn to walk correctly. Me? I'm just grateful the barefoot season will soon be upon us.

I love the sensation of "gliding through life". I much prefer to phrase it that way. It sure beats "dragging my feet". Which is it? Does it really matter? If one can have fun with their flooring, shouldn't they take pleasure in the small things in life?

And does this really matter?!?

The Best Part of Waking Up

This morning, I awoke to flashbacks of yesterday morning wafting through mind. Let me set the scene for you ...

We had a Sibling Sleepover Weekend, this weekend past. My brother and his wife arrived Friday night, while my sisters arrived Saturday afternoon, spent the night and everyone headed home after a leisurely Sunday breakfast.

We had a few late nights so I wasn't the first one up. My bedroom is downstairs so I tried to be conscious of listening for steps overhead so I could get up and resume my hosting duties. The moment I heard the light padding of feet I got up, tended to a few cat chores, got dressed and headed upstairs.

I stepped into the morning to a freshly made pot of coffee, with my sisters visiting quietly in the living room. It was like I stepped back in time.

It was like waking up at Mom's house again.

It was not uncommon for me to be the last one up when we gathered at Mom's. I would step into the morning-in-progress, coffee made and quiet visiting preceded my presence.

During Mom's final year, we often found ourselves together at Mom's or overlapping our visits by a night. After Mom was gone, we made a handful of trips back to Mom's as we tended to her home and estate related matters.

Waking up under the same roof at Mom's home became a great source of comfort to me. My sisters have walked me through many of my life changing events. They became known to me and my heart as my "White Knights", as they drove out together and coached me through difficult times. They are my strength, my backbone and the wind beneath my wings.

While we walked through the Year of Mom together, simply knowing they had my back made me stronger. I walked a walk I never could have walked had we not had that history together and the unwavering knowledge they were behind me all the way. This is not to undermine my brother's role in the entire scenario. The difference was in the moment I walked into yesterday morning. My sisters and I have had many Waking Up at Mom's moments together. Before, during and after Mom's final year.

This familiar scene comforted me in a bear hug kind of way. The presence of family has been part of the tapestry of my life. The only time I haven't felt such a presence is when I have made the choice to go it alone.

I'm grateful my brother was a part of this occasion. As I rewind the memory reel of my mind, I can't think of a time he has had these "Waking Up to Family Moments" my sisters and I have shared. There is something to be said for sleeping under the same roof, waking up to a pot of coffee someone has already made, with the knowledge you are safe in the company of someone who shares your history.

I feel Mom's presence throughout my home. Between her belongings sprinkled throughout each and every one of our homes, her essence etched into our beings and the way the sounds of Mom's home and yard chimed in and throughout our time together, this was the next best thing to waking up at Mom's.

A Most Excellent Weekend

It has been a most excellent weekend. I had few expectations but I was full of hope that it would be easy, relaxed and sprinkled with laughter. As soon as my siblings started to arrive, I knew I would not be disappointed.

We reminisced about how often we have gotten together in the past, in and around April or May. Income tax time, Easter, Mom's birthday and/or Mother's Day have been a reason for Mom to come here, for us to travel out to Mom's or meet Mom and our brother at a midway point for lunch or an overnight stay.

It felt perfect to get together at this time of year. Spring is in the air, travelling is easy and it had been a while since our last sibling visit.

In the past, Mom has been the focus of many of our visits and conversations. The past few years have been heavy. We carried the weight of our worries together and I believe the years brought us closer than ever.

Mom was not the purpose of our visit this time. Yes, we chose a comfortable and familiar time of year to unite but there was no agenda. We came together as family and visited like old friends.

Our conversations bounced all over the map. Past, present and future. It felt so easy to sit among family, talk like best friends, reminisce, catch up and dare to look beyond the moment.

I haven't hosted a family gathering for a while. I felt nervous, out of practise and uncertain how the flow of our newly renovated home would translate into a sibling sleepover. It worked very well. So well, in fact, that I found myself readying the house for my next round of guests (whoever they may be).

If I wash the sheets, they will come...

The Quiet Before the Company

My siblings are coming! My siblings are coming!!

Yes, a spur of the moment email suggesting we try to get together has resulted in our upcoming weekend plans.

We are a very fortunate family of four. We enjoy each other's company. We gather in good times and bad and anything in between. We haven't been together as a family for six months and the dawn of spring seemed like a very good time to invite everyone over.

We can be a little wishy washy with planning at times. So in the spirit of "Mom", rather than vaguely invite everyone saying "Any time is good with me", I suggested we try to pick a date around either Mom's birthday or Mother's Day. 

Mom's birthday was yesterday and we shall all be together tomorrow. Although Mom won't be the sole focus of our gathering, I'm sure both her and Dad will be present in spirit and mentioned often. 

I ended up with the day off from my bookkeeping job today, so I have the luxury (?!?) of six extra hours to prepare. 

My to-do-list consists of:

• make ice (freshly made ice especially for my sisters)
• vacuum "Mom's room" (the bedrooms have been sealed off from the cats since I washed all the bedding)
• wipe down mirrors
• wash couch cushions 

The list grows by the moment as I sit here with far too many extra hours at my disposal. What is my excuse not to:

• rake the yard?
• try to fix the gate latch (I miss my handy dandy handyson!)
• tidy the freezer (who really cares?!)
• prepare food?
• dust the baseboards?
• wash the kitchen cupboards?
• and the list goes on and on ...

When I had a house that was "clean enough", I had so much less to do. Now that the main floor of our home is new and basically clean, the bar has been raised. I must not only KEEP it clean, now that it IS clean, I can see so very much that has been ignored in the past (I have literally no memory of washing the outside of our tub but I'm sure it has been done in the past).

No one is coming to judge me. But with these excess hours on my hands, I feel like I should cook or something. Heaven forbid.

I tried rerouting my day so I could work this afternoon instead of this evening but that was not meant to be. I organized myself so I would have all my chores done before I left for my 8 a.m. dentist appointment this morning, thus I have created an excess of time I am trying not to feel guilty about wasting.

Sigh ...

I am a master of wasting time, so I shall fritter the hours away and revel in this sunny spring day I have all to myself. Maybe I will end up outside and things may happen. Or they may not. 

I'm grateful for the quiet before the company. I don't think I'll waste the time cleaning after all.

Happy Birthday, Mom

Birthdays were never a big deal for Mom. I don't think she particularly enjoyed a day that brought attention to her advancing years but I would imagine she didn't mind the contact from family due to the occasion.

We only surprised her once. One surprise party on her 65th birthday was one too many but she was young enough to survive the shock and tell us to never EVER do this again. So we didn't.

Fifteen years later, we asked if she would be agreeable to a gathering of the families on or around her birthday. We tried to take the focus off of "birthday" (my brother jokingly interchanged the word "extravaganza" in its place) and with Mom's blessing and input, we had a most excellent gathering of family and friends.

We collected hand written memories and/or pictures in place of gifts, amassed them in a binder and it was a gift Mom enjoyed for years to come.

I can visualize the pictures in my mind. The year was 2008, everyone was in good health and Mom was surrounded by her sisters, brothers in law (who felt like brothers to her), family, family, more family and friends.

She danced to the song "Could I Have This Dance" with my cousin, who had danced to this song with his bride on his wedding day.

There was a program which was light and easy, we had a few family soloists who sang some of Mom's favorite songs. It was a fun, easy and memorable day. I'm so glad we have the memory to hold onto.

Mom's funeral was very similar to that special birthday memory.

The year was 2017. She was the sole member of her family left. Her sisters, who were all alive on Mom's 80th birthday, predeceased her. A brother-in-law and two sisters-in-law had also passed. Looking at Mom's 80th birthday pictures, I see the life in everyone's eyes that was extinguished during the years that followed.

I remember the impassioned letter I wrote to a family member who couldn't attend the occasion due to their beliefs. They celebrate wedding anniversaries but not birthdays. There were no more wedding anniversaries for Mom, since Dad died thirty years before Mom. We were gathering family and friends in good times and my unspoken plea was "Please celebrate Mom with us while she is here to enjoy the party".

I didn't sway their decision. But I tried.

I'm so grateful for the memory of that special "Extravaganza" celebration of Mom's life. The joy of that day lives on and I believe we brought a piece of that most special occasion into our final good-bye to her.

When you live a joy-filled life, it is easier to smile at all the memories as your days wind down to an end. I think of the laughter that surrounded what would become Mom's final year. I remember thinking how disrespectful it must seem, to be laughing in the hospital corridors while others were facing life and death situations. Little did I realize at the time, that was "us". We were walking through Mom's final days with her. Although it was heart breaking at times, it wasn't a sorrowful time because we had an arsenal of good thoughts, memories and a mighty spunky mom who made things as easy as they could be.

It was her final wish for us to simply be with her. She would rest, wanted to hear our voices and laughter.

One of my favorite pictures of the day. Maybe not the best pose, but it captured the essence of the day. "Familiarity and ease among family and friends"

Mom, with her sisters and Dad's brothers

Mom, with Dad's brothers. This is such a good picture of Mom and I can still hear her voice saying "They were like brothers to me" (and I can also hear the voice of Dad's brother echoing the sentiment)

"Could I Have This Dance" ~ the grand finale of what was a most excellent day

Thanks for the memories, Mom. They are a gift like no other...

"A Most Perfect Day" (original post - April 14, 2008)

A rerun of what I wrote after Mom's Birthday Extravaganza!:

MONDAY, APRIL 14, 2008

A Most Perfect Day

Well, Mom's birthday gathering was perfect in every way. From my sisters' inception of the idea last summer as they vacationed together ... to our original 'sibling sleepover' in September to start the planning process ... to the various phone calls and emails along the way ... to the final sibling meeting ... to the day itself.

Each and every one of the steps along the way was perfectly enjoyable. We had so much fun getting together and arranging this gathering. And even though my sisters had all of the food and decorating preparations fall entirely on their shoulders in the end, they got together and made it sound fun.

The day itself couldn't have been better. It was a tad overwhelming to see the people that gathered. I think we came up with a final tally of around 110 people. Relatives from both Mom and Dad's side of the family and some family friends. I could have so easily crawled into my 'quiet self' that has attended these events in the past. Crowds of people overwhelm me. But I forced myself out of that quiet sanctuary and participated in the day. My only regret is that the day went too fast and I really didn't get to visit with anyone on a one-to-one basis.

My brother is our hero. He put together a program for the event that set the tone for the day. Before the program, people were gathering together in their little groups and there was an air of discomfort as no one really knew what to do. The program united all of us. Trev has a way with words that works magic. We were 'one' as we listened and enjoyed and anticipated every little thing he had to say. Our family had absolutely no doubt in our minds that he would do a marvelous job and he exceeded our expectations. It was fun to listen to people talk to and about him later ... he won the family over in every capacity. Just by being the person he is, he is fantastic. To project himself into his family and audience in such a humorous and touching fashion, gave everyone a chance to openly express how they felt. What a gift. For him. For all of us.

And Mom. She enjoyed every moment of the day. We are so glad that she was included in knowing what we were up to this time (we surprised her on her 65th birthday and it was just too overwhelming for her). She wasn't shy about including her input and she was the perfect 'guest of honor'. She has touched so many people and it was a credit to her, how well attended this event was. She has a special place in many people's hearts and vice versa. Dad's brothers feel like brothers to her. And the feeling appears very mutual. I happened to capture a moment that encapsulated this 'feeling' on film. And it makes me smile. She is close to her sisters and it was them that sat together at the head table which was so appropriate. She has touched the lives of many nieces and nephews and inlaws ... The people that have a special place in her heart were all there. My uncle travelled from Ontario; a cousin travelled from Medicine Hat; another cousin and her family live west of Edmonton and they came. Her grandchildren travelled from all over Saskatchewan and one from Edmonton, to be there for the day. The friends that came were so glad to be a part of the day. What a special way to show someone how you feel about them. To come and make the day more special - simply by being there...

Our family truly amazes me. From our immediate family, to the extended family of aunts, uncles, cousins and beyond. Mom and Dad have given our family the absolute best gift parents can give. A home and family that is strong and united.

It was a day that will live in my heart forever. A day that reflected our life, our family and honored our Mom. Dad was there through his brothers, his son and in the hearts of many. His part in creating this most special family is present even though he is gone.

Our family. My most cherished gift. One day to pay tribute to our Mom that is a central part to all of this wonder. A day that started well before the actual date. A day that will live far beyond. A most perfect day ...

Eight Years Later (my life is nothing but a rerun of old episodes)

I just rewatched an episode of Grey's Anatomy that spoke to me in the past. A combination of a poor attention span and inability to piece together Meredith's thoughts as she leads into and recaps each episode with a thought provoking message led me to wondering "What did I hear the first time I watched this episode?" I found my original post and I could have written it yesterday. I am exactly were I was eight years ago ...

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 2011

Vitamins and Nothing

Quote from Thursday night's episode of Grey's Anatomy:

Meredith: "We are responsible with our patients. The problem is we blow it all out at work. In our own lives, we can't think things through. We don't make the sound choice. We did that all day at the hospital. When it comes to ourselves, we've got nothing left. And is it worth it—being responsible? Because if take your vitamins and pay your taxes and never cut the line, the universe still gives you people to love and then lets them slip through your fingers like water, and what've you got? Vitamins and nothing."

Responsibility. When you 'blow it all out at work' and there is nothing left at the end of the day ... what do you really have?

I spent the first 20 years of my parenting working full time, outside of our home. I did everything I was paid to do, all day long. I spent my energy being nice at work. When I came home, I was empty. I had nothing left. My fuse was short and my children were on the receiving end of whatever my day had given me.

I was working hard, doing all the right things, making all the 'right' financial choices. I often joked that I could afford to retire (RRSP's were maximized), I could afford to die (insurance was all in place), I was in a spot where my mortgage would have been paid in full in 2009 ... but I couldn't afford to live.

I woke up during my maternity leave with my third child. I saw the person I was, when I was consumed with work and making the right financial choices. My eyes were finally opened and I saw that I was letting life slip out of my hands. This is the reason that I made the choices that I did and started working from our home. I have never looked back ...

Fast forward to the present.

I had a 'bad day at the office' yesterday. I walked away, came home to life-as-I-know-it and had a great evening out with friends. I thought that I had put it all behind me. Yet when I woke up this morning, work issues sifted to the top of my consciousness.

I don't want to wake up in the morning with a work hangover. I want to box it up, put it away and shut the door on it until I choose to open it. And I always choose to open it.

I want to work from home for many reasons. Yesterday made it blatantly clear to me why I love working out of my home. I feel in control. I have a system that works for me. Everything is at my fingertips. I am a obsessive when it comes to paper, organization and routine. Yesterday? I was working at the shop, at a desk that was not my own, with one corner cleared off for the three piles of things to verify, sort and correct. My routine was blown out of the water.

My first conscious thoughts this morning were (and still are) consumed with work. Days like yesterday make me feel like life is 'slipping through my fingers like water'.

The universe gave me a home and family to come home to, friends to go out with, the opportunity to dance after my work day was through. Yet when I woke up this morning? I allowed the joy of what I had at the end of the day, slip through my fingers.

Is it worth it - being responsible?

At work, while you are at work? Yes.

After work, I do not want to feel depleted. I want energy left over for me and the people in my life.

Being responsible to myself and those that share my life is worth it. Spending all of that at work and coming home 'empty'? Not a place I want to go back to. I want more than vitamins and nothing at the end of the day.

Time Management

The longer I live, the poorer I get at managing my time.

I just puttered away two hours this morning. Granted, I sent off an email, balanced my budget, made some short range plans and stimulated my brain with my morning puzzles. BUT I lost two hours in (what felt like) the blink of an eye.

If it was just "me" and my home life, this would be okay. But this mismanagement of time is infiltrating my long range goals, my state of productivity and my work.

I am a stickler for routine. On the job and off. I like to clear the deck of all small tasks before I tackle something big. I do this at home. I do this when I tackle any project or job. I did this when I studied, while I assembled our family's memories and when I have taken on organizing family events. 

I do this all the time. I clear the clutter of "life" away and then I sit down and lose myself in the bigger projects at hand.

This does prove to be a very good excuse to procrastinate. I was not alone when I said my house was never cleaner, than when I was taking a correspondence course. I truly believe that "white space" creates fewer distractions and one can focus better on the job at hand. 

I have succeeded in what I have set out to do in the past. I have completed courses. I have created or been a co-creator in three family history books. I have arranged a reunion and kept a fully balanced accounting of all funds received for said reunion. I managed Mom's estate and all accounting related to it. 

I accounted for balanced every penny of Mom's funds, family reunion and book funds. I do income tax for others. I did my own taxes before I took them to the accountant and caught an error she made. I balance my own books to the penny. I balance books as unconsciously as I breathe. 

I obsess about balancing to the penny and check my work backwords, forwards and sideways before I put it to rest. I meticulously organize the end result of my work at hand, so if I was ever questioned on any part of the accounting, I would be able to retrace my steps and account for my thought process.

This should make me very good at my work BUT the time it takes to do things the way I like to do them is tripping me up. 

This is waking me up at night. Every night I have to work in the morning. It has been a long while since I felt I put in a productive day at work. The habits that work for me at home are not working for me in the work place.

"Listen to the whispers" is a chapter I just read in Oprah's new book. I've been able to hear the whispers in the past. It was harder when those whispers were guiding me away from my days of daycaring. I silenced the whispers but an ocular migraine scared the socks off me (I thought it may be a brain tumor as I was experiencing it) during my last day of work before a long awaited holiday. I offered to move out to Mom's that summer but settled for quitting my daycare instead. 

Another time, a hernia stopped me in my tracks which resulted in going back to school and rerouting my career after I listened to the quiet.

My sitting in a sunbeam moment after my Youngest Child was born was another moment of clarity when my life was quiet enough to listen to the beat of my own heart. I took a leave of absence from my work and opened my daycare. I have never looked back.

Prior to that, were the screams of desperation I felt within me when I knew I had to make a physical move away from my marriage and previous life. That was the smartest move of my life.

I hear the whispers. I don't want the whispers to turn into screams. When you don't make a change voluntarily, life will deal you a hand that is out of your control. I would rather control the change I want to see in my life. 

I want to listen to those whispers. Maybe I have to turn off the TV at night so I am forced to wake up and confront them.

I feel as though I am mismanaging my time but am I? Or is "life" trying to talk to me and I am numbing my thoughts with sleep, Netflix and food? My chip addiction at night has become all consuming and the highlight of my day.

I don't want to make any rash changes. I simply want to find a way to make this existing situation work. I need to either have suggestions or be open to them. I must be willing change what is within my control or accept things as they are. 

The Serenity Prayer instantly comes to mind: 

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference."

I feel as though I am mismanaging my time but am I? Or is "life" trying to talk to me and I am numbing my thoughts with sleep, Netflix and chips?

As I was ready to walk away from the computer, this post came to my attention:

Self-care is not selfish. It’s the most pro-active thing you can do. Why? We cannot nurture others from a dry well. If we practice preventative wellness and replenish our emotional reservoirs BEFORE they hit the empty line, then we can give even more to others from our surplus, from our natural state of strength and abundance. Shine brightly💡 ~ Project Happiness

I wrote this at 8:00 a.m.; I have returned to my morning thoughts twelve hours later. I will post this after it has plenty of time to marinate. Good night.