Quiet

I hit the 'Publish' button on yesterday's post and went straight to work on my family's Book Project.

I puttered with that all morning and then kept a promise to my Youngest Son. I took him out to see a movie.

We went straight to the movie and straight home. No errands. No stops along the way. We were back home three hours after we left and walked in the door empty handed.

Once home, my son went about his business. He did his laundry, cleaned his room, then plugged the headphones into his phone so he could watch some YouTube videos. The only sound coming from his room, was that of the hum of the dehumidifier.

I picked up a book and read.

The house was silent, except for the sounds of the clocks ticking, the fridge motor and the noise of my son's laundry and room-cleaning. No music, no TV, no phones, no voices, nothing. It was so peaceful.

I should have picked up the phone and called to clarify a 'research question' (or ten) for The Book Project. But I didn't. I didn't want to have to hold up my end of a conversation. I didn't want to think. I simply wanted to savor the silence.

My son wandered in and out of the living room. We chatted about nothing. I put together a supper meal for him. We sat and had our regular daily dose of Cat-Chat (we can sit and talk mindlessly about our cats and it is akin to staring into a fire - they are such a calming presence).

It was at this point, that I realized that I had not been in contact with anyone all day (besides my morning blog post and suddenly even the thought of those words sounded loud). No phone calls, no texts, no emails, nothing.

My contact with the outside world was silenced for one day. And I think I liked it ...

My holidays begin in five days. This time, last year I was counting down the days until my dream vacation in my Room With a Door. I sequestered myself into the quietest room of the house, closed the door and shut out the world. It was the best holiday I have ever given myself.

This year, I am still taking four days at the onset of my holiday to be quiet, to write and work on my Book Project. But I am not craving the silence in the same way that I was a year ago.

There has been a subtle shift in the tides. I am not so overwhelmed at how-far-I-have-yet-to-go on the Book Project. The house is quiet. My thoughts are riding the waves and I feel so calm within.

I don't have to go anywhere, do anything or see anyone to turn my life into a holiday. I am already living my dream. Within this peaceful oasis of my heart and home...

I can still feel the peace of staring back to the wake of the wide open vastness of the world we left behind as our cruise ship sailed off to a world I had never seen.
That ... is exactly where I am once again. Without taking one step out of our home.

Another New House Concert Experience

Have you ever been just a little bit leery to try something new (again) simply because the first time was so grand that you know nothing could hold a candle to your original experience? Me too.

I accepted the invitation anyway and just trusted I couldn't lose, because I was going to get together with a friend. I looked forward to going out for a cup of coffee at the end of the evening which would wrap up our evening and tie it in a bow. No matter how the evening played out.

Well, the coffee at the end was just as good as I expected it would be. But so was my second House Concert.

Last night, we had the pleasure of meeting the husband and wife duo "Me & the Mrs". They were quietly unassuming (and most likely quite nervous) as they stood before us and without too much of a preamble and introduction, simply started out with a song.

It was like they had to belt out that first tune to get their sea legs and then the banter between the songs started to fill the cracks and you simply could not wait for them to start their next melody.

Each song had a story and I loved how 'Paul' spoke of how his inspiration came and one time he quite literally crammed himself (and his guitar) into the room that was left inside of their car and let the music inside of him come out in his next new song. Then there was the Valentine song he wrote on the sly and surprised 'Heather' on their Valentine's Day performance by singing it 'just for her' in front of their audience ...

I was completely mesmerized by the talent and quiet showmanship of this young couple who appear to fall in love with each other, with each new song.

They ended the evening with a song I wish I could find this morning. It was a little love song that put Sonny & Cher's "I've Got You Babe" to shame. The words, the melody and the sweet way they sang to each other could shoot them to fame if the right person heard it and shared it with the world.

The message I took home with me is: the material things in life are immaterial. Take a good look at the life you are living and look for (and appreciate) the unexpected 'bends in the road' ... remember the days when you had 'nothing' and were the happiest ... and when you find someone who makes your heart sing, sing your song out loud! You just never know who may be listening.

And by all means, if someone invites you to a house concert ... don't look back. Just say "Yes!" and  go!!! (Yes, Brother ... I am talking to you!)

Revving Up For the Day

I am revving up for the day ahead of me. I did 'hard things' last night, in preparation for today.

The grass is trimmed and mowed. My hair is washed. The house is vacuumed and evidence of our daycare-week has been erased. I have two errands to run and an evening-out on today's agenda ...

Try as I might, I can never succeed in clearing the slate completely. There is always something left over for another day.

Last week, I felt sluggish all week long because each and every day ended with one-more-hard-thing. Anything that involves leaving the house is 'hard'. Washing my hair is hard.

Last weekend ended with the knowledge that I had not accomplished anything outside of the house and it left me feeling depleted all week. I don't want another week like that.

I simply want to sit on our deck outside at the end of my weekdays and breathe in the quietness of the evening. I want to read, to write and to visit from the comfort of my own home and enjoy that-which-I-have.

I am one week away from my holiday. I do not want my holiday to be consumed with out-of-house excursions. I am taking four days at the beginning of my holiday, to give to myself. I will nourish myself with whatever is in the house and immerse myself in that-which-I-want-to-do. I want to write, polish, edit and finish off Draft #2 of my dad's family's Book Project.

My mind is scattered all across the map and back. It is time to sit still and centre myself. I am going to sit down with my dad's chapter of The Book and see if I can remember the edits that I made last week and lost ...

Sigh ... what is happening to my computer-saving-abilities?!? One of these days I am going to make an error that I am going to regret. My old computer is still out of commission and as of my last update, my computer-guy was optimistic that 'all was not lost'.

Save your work, girl! Even back-ups are not fool-proof. I am learning these lessons along the way but thankfully I have been insulated from Great Loss. So far.

This post took a new turn when I was about to end it. I could edit and shorten it or I could post it as-it-is and just carry on with the day ahead of me.

I have a few chapters in me today. I can feel them coming to the surface. I hope. Maybe I should save my work (how do I save that-which-is-in-my-head?) before I lose that too.

I wrote that sentence then grabbed a scrap of paper so that I could make note of the deep thoughts I was thinking while I mowed the lawn last night. I will want them at-the-ready one day soon...

Gotta end this post-about-nothing and accomplish something with this day.

Happy Saturday to You! May you be doing exactly what you want to be doing with this day. Or at least get it done early enough so that you have a parcel of time at some point, just to sit still and inhale the moment.

Happily Ever After

They were the 'Fred and Ginger' of the dance studio. Maybe not. Were Fred and Ginger a couple off the dance floor? Did a romance ignite when they started dancing together? Maybe they were Cinderella and Prince Charming...

She told me of her story - before and after she met her husband. She had a child-like sense of joy about her when she spoke of her life and he was such a very big part of her story.

They were both single and had never been married. He was 60 when they met and fell in love. From someone who feels like the romance ship has sailed in, out and through their life at the age of 53, I look to my favorite dance couple and marvel at the proven fact that you are never to old to fall in love and start a life together.

She spoke of him and them with a sense of naiveté and wonder. She talked of how they met. She told us of the ways that he listened and gently guided her through her life's journey. She called him "Sweety" ...

I have never known one, without the other. In my eyes, they have been a couple 'forever'. But they weren't. In actuality, they were newlyweds when I first met them. Funny that I didn't realize that at the time. They simply seemed meant for each other.

Destiny and dancing brought these two young souls together and two lives merged into one life together. They are two of the kindest, most caring, giving and fun-loving people I know. I aspired to be part of a couple that emulated the love and joy they had found together.

Their wedding vows saw them through 'in sickness and in health'. The last time I spoke to him, his health was declining and when I asked how he was, his only concern was that of his wife. They had moved out of their house and into a senior's condominium and he was so pleased that his wife was surrounded by a caring community and out of their high maintenance home. She was happy and that (to me) sounded like his greatest joy.

He passed away last week. Last night, his brave and courageous wife got up and spoke about him and her and them in front of a room full of family, friends and community.

She looked so strong and her love for him superseded all else as she told us their love story. Her voice was young and her words were full of life as she remembered the impact that he had made on her life.

I thought that kind of love only happened in fairy tales.

I am grateful to know this couple that fell in love on the dance floor and forged a partnership that carried them through their lives together. And they will live happily ever after, within her heart and all of those who were privileged to know this real life couple that walked straight out of a fairy tale and into our lives...

To Have and To Hold ~ Precious Memories

I have a stockpile of sympathy cards in my dresser drawer these days. I used to have one or two sitting around. Now? I have a small little selection to choose from when the need arises.

The need has arisen far, far too many times in a very short period of time.

People in my close circle of friends and family are facing devastating losses. There is a continual reminder that our days on earth are precious and can be snatched away at any time. Sometimes there is a warning, sometimes there is not.

There is no easy way to lose a loved one. Whether the loss is though death, divorce, separation or irreconcilable differences. Living a life without someone that you are accustomed to have walking at your side is hard to fathom until it becomes your reality.

I feel like such a fraud as I walk with friends and family who are mourning their loss. Life has insulated me from heartache on so very many levels.

We lost dad so very gradually. We lost his essence long before he died due to the severe brain damage after his near fatal heart attack. I know there was a time that my grief was new and raw. But it was so very, very long ago.

Over the course of the past five years or more, I have been drawn to blogs dealing with the aftermath of loss. I couldn't figure out why I needed to read what these people had to say ... until recently. These blogs have given me a perspective that I didn't have. They have helped me understand (as much as one can understand each person's unique way of grieving) so that I feel like I can (if nothing else) at least not say the wrong things.

Assembling and writing my dad's family's story has been nothing short of cathartic for me. I have waded through my dad's memories and immersed myself completely. If I didn't feel 'healed' before, I feel reborn after this experience.

I know that everyone's time frame, in living through their grief, is different. The time when they are ready to immerse themselves fully in the essence of a loved one. I can only know what has worked for me and the magic of putting stories and pictures together has been beyond healing.

Now that I am coming out the other side of this Book of Family Memories project, I know where I want to go next. I want to write love stories. One story at a time. I want to help others articulate their story on paper so they can read it, touch it, share it and feel it whenever the need arises. It could be a private memoir for them to have and hold. It could be given to a child, grandchild or someone that they have adopted into their heart like a family member. Or it could simply be 'put out there' for the world to see.

When we put our heart on the line, we take a great risk. Sometimes it gets broken. Other times that love divides and grows and becomes more than one could have ever imagined. Often, both of those things are happening simultaneously as the ebbs and flows and tides of life are ever changing.

When your heart is aching because you miss someone, it is a comfort to be surrounded in the memories of the long and winding road that it took to know someone so well that you feel like you are missing a limb when they are gone.

I can only speak for myself, but assembling my dad's story has been one of life's greatest gifts. I am fortunate to have collected Mom's stories, memories and history from her personally. I had no idea how or where to begin with Dad's story because he wasn't here to tell it to me himself. Both family memoirs have been a gift unto themselves.

I love collecting memories and putting them together in the format of words, stories and pictures to have and to hold. Forever.

Forever is an elusive word. We don't have forever. But I am doing my best to capture what I can, while I have it in a fashion that will outlast my physical body. My children will never miss me because I will have left too much of myself behind!

Is this heaven ... or am I simply living the life I was intended to live, right here on earth??

Relearning Independence

The day is nearing. My Second Son, His Girlfriend and their Two Dogs will soon be moving out of my home and into their own. They are weaning themselves into their new life on their farm. And in the process, I am being weaned back into independence.

I am grateful that I am learning that full independence isn't all it is cracked up to be. My Son has stepped in and relieved the pressure of Living Independently for (almost) five years.

It has been a little bit wonderful as he gradually took over almost all of the outside maintenance over the course of most of those years. As life-on-their-farm became to take on more of his time last year, I was gently weaned back into lawn care. Winter was another story because he was 'here' more than he was 'there' (on the farm), so he still took over the lion's share of snow removal last winter.

Little odds and ends around the house seem to get taken care of, in a timely matter. We had a few plumbing issues and a mysterious little 'flood' in the basement that My Son simply took care of for me (almost) before I even knew there was a problem.

Caulking, little fix-it jobs here, there and everywhere were completed while I carried on my merry little way and lived my life.

Car troubles? I would ask my son. If I wanted to go on a little getaway, my Middle Son was here for my Youngest Son.

My Second Son's positive, adult presence in our home these past years have set the bar for My Youngest. There has been a Mutual Adoration Society that has evolved over the course of time since my Second Son moved home. My Youngest Son has been witness to it all.

Add two adults and two dogs into a household and it is bound to be a little bit less than an ideal situation for all. But all things considered, I would say that we did a mighty fine job of things overall.

I think that we all knew that the Time of Independence for All was beckoning. It has been for a while. When little things become bigger than they really are, you know you are living the 'real life' - the life between the lines that they do not show on The Waltons or Leave it to Beaver or even The Simpsons.

There has been a mutual dependence that has helped all parties out during my Second Son's Time of Construction. Perhaps not equal in all ways, but I think that we both could honestly say that we each reaped a few benefits along the way.

Will I miss having a handyman living under the same roof? You bet I will! Will I miss the impromptu chats over coffee? Yes! Will I miss simply knowing that I have someone to lean on, if leaning is necessary? More than I ever thought that I would ...

My Second Son and his family are spending more and more (and more) time living on their farm as progress has allowed. They went 'out for the weekend' on Friday night and still have not come home. I was bemoaning the fact that I hate refilling the propane tank and I hate filling the gas tank and I hate buying milk (etc, etc, etc) last night. A lot of the things on my 'hate' list were things that my Second Son has taken over. My Youngest gingerly asked, "Do you suppose that they are spending more and more time away from home, to help you get used to being on your own again?" I would imagine that there are more reasons than just that particular one, but yes ... this time of adjustment is just a small bit easier knowing that it isn't quite our reality. Yet.

But it is coming. It is truly and honestly coming! I am so very, very pleased for all of us. The time has come. It may have actually arrived a year ago ... but now that it is 'this' close, I am grateful for the extra year. That bonus year has given all of us the gift of leaving on good terms. After all that we have been through together, I think the worst time for our separation would have been when things were at their worst.

We have lived through many changes these past (almost) five years. What started out as a temporary, mutually favorable living arrangement became one of necessity for a while. We went through the good, the bad and the ugly and back again. I am simply grateful that it has cycled back to the good stuff, now that our time of separation is nearing.

I must stretch my independent wings again. I've done it before and I will do it again. In all of my adult years, I have never relied on anyone besides myself to take care of life-at-home. It all fell on my shoulders and I carried whatever load I had to carry to raise my young family.

It has been a gift of epic proportions to learn to trust someone enough to lean on. I knew it was temporary. Perhaps I leaned a little too hard at times. Maybe I was weak? Maybe I was testing My Son's threshold? Maybe it was just a passing phase?

Perhaps I am a little bit like someone who has been on bed rest just a little bit longer than was absolutely necessary. I may need to rebuild my strength a little bit as I work my way to full independence once again. But I have a 16-year-old in the wings. A young lad who has watched his older brother step up to the plate and lend a helping hand. I am not counting on him to take over where his older brother left off. But I do believe that he will follow in his footsteps one day. In many ways ... he has already started.

Relearning independence is something that cycles in and out and back into our life again. It is very life affirming to know that you can do hard things.

Here I go. Again...

The Nightmare

I lightly alluded to the nightmare that I had a few nights ago, in last night's post-about-nothing. It was a very disturbing dream and I quite literally had to get out of bed (and turn off a crying doll!) to shake myself out of it. Even that did not work. My thoughts were consumed.

Before I went to bed that night, I had read this article "The Day I Left My Son in the Car". You really should read that article to fully understand the depth of my thoughts before I went to sleep that night.

In a nutshell, this is written by a mom that does everything humanly possible to protect  her children but she made one spur-of-the-moment decision that changed her life. She left her son in the car (on a 50 degree (Fahrenheit) day, with windows cracked open a bit; child locks engaged; doors locked) because after insisting that he wanted to come along with her on this five minute errand (before they had to run and catch a flight within the hour), he resisted going into the store with her when she got there. Tantrum in the store verses the decision to run in and out of the store and be quickly on their way again.

Her son was fine, but what happened is that a stranger videotaped the entire incident, then followed this mom home and then called the police to report the mother for leaving her child in a car.

The author of this article went to great lengths to describe all sides of the entire situation, the events that followed and the legal ramifications and arguments that ensued.

I am not acting as judge and jury here. What resonated with me after reading this, was the fact that what caregiver does not make a mistake? Ever? As a parent, I was a (very) far cry from perfect. As a daycare provider, I am 90% better than I was as a parent, but I am not perfect.

Just yesterday, I took a calculated risk by mowing the lawn while my two daycare charges were sound asleep in the house, the doors were locked and my 16 year old was downstairs in-case-of-emergency. Anything could have happened during the twenty minutes that I stepped out of the house.

Every day, I must go to the bathroom at some point during my daycare day. I always make sure that all-is-well and everyone is safe and occupied before I leave the room. I leave the bathroom door ajar so that I can hear all that is going on (which often attracts little people to come and investigate this door that is open, just a crack - so I really do know where they are). But honestly? Anything could happen when my back is turned.

Anything could happen when my back is not turned as well. And it does. Kids trip, fall, bump into each other and things and are generally an accident-in-progress at different ages and stages of their development. I have gone to catch a child who is falling and accidentally grazed them with my fingernail instead. Bumps, bruises, scratches and accidents are a part of growing up. Ninety nine (point nine, nine) percent of the time it is just minor stuff. All it takes is 'once' and all else is forgotten.

I have babysat for a few 'bubble-wrapped' children. They are the hardest children to keep safe, because their parents have protected them from the natural consequences of life because they always catch the child before they fall. These children are fearless because they trust that someone else will keep them safe.

These very same parents are the ones that worry me the most. If they watched every move that I made during the day, I could not appease their protective nature. Daycare = Children (plural). I do not have eyes and ears on one child at all times. Peripheral vision sees all (a lot); knows all (most); and hears all (almost everything). But I don't have my eyes, ears and arms out for one child at all times.

I take calculated risks all day, every day.

I even feel like I am taking a chance whenever I take my kids out for a walk. I have two in the stroller and anyone walking must hold onto the stroller. That is the rule. It is my unwavering rule. I go on and on and on about safety and moving cars, watching for traffic, walking on the 'grassy side of the sidewalk' (verses the side closest to moving traffic).

I have zero tolerance for any safety rule that is broken.

I let the kids take calculated risks when I know that they are safe. Learning to climb and falling a small distance, onto a soft surface is a good teacher, in my books.

On top of keeping my borrowed children safe, I am also teaching them manners, fair play, sharing, caring and just plain old good citizenship. At least I try. In the minutes, hours and days throughout the week I have moments when I lose my temper. On good days and on bad days. My angry voice comes out and it doesn't sound good.

If someone caught me on videotape during one of those bad moments?? It is honestly my worst nightmare. And that ... was the nightmare that I had the other night.

I was over-the-top-stressed-out (in my dream) and I had school-aged children that were defying my every word. (In my dream), I sent one of those school kids to bed for a nap and the other snuck out the door (in my dream) and decided that she wasn't sick after all and would return to school. And (in my dream), the mother of these children showed up on the doorstep with her daughter in tow, hurling accusations. On top of this (in my dream), the mother of my bubble-wrapped-child dropped off her extremely ill son after his doctor's appointment and went to work. I had a sick child (in my dream) on top of this defiance and suddenly, my bubble-wrapped-child's mother was accusing and yelling at me. I stood there (in my dream), feeling defenseless and defeated.

I woke up and my heart was racing. The grains of truth (my imperfections and current-day-parents' expectations) sifted to the top of my consciousness and I wondered if I was truly up to this job.

I am so very far from perfect, that I worry. If someone was a fly on my wall during the day, each and every day, day after day ... what would they think? Perhaps that 'fly' would understand and see 99.99% of the time, I do the right things under the right circumstances. But what if they videotaped one isolated incident? If someone judged you by your actions .01% of the time, what would the jury think?

Living life is risky business. Every day. All of the time. We have no idea what is lurking around the next corner. Thank goodness.

We can't live in fear of that .01% of the time. We must live out loud. We must take chances and learn that sometimes, we will fall. When we do fall, we must learn to get back up, brush ourselves off and move onwards, taking that lesson with us. It doesn't hurt to think of that 'fly on the wall', to help us guide our actions in a way that we are not ashamed of. But we cannot live in fear of five minutes of 'video' to change the course of our lives.

It only takes a fraction of a second to change the course of a life. We cannot live in fractions. We can only live fully and completely. Wake up from the nightmare, girl! Open your eyes!! Life the day with your eyes wide open, do your best and when you fail? Get up and try, try again.