Witnessing the Sadness

Sometimes it's the hardest thing ... to watch someone you love be in pain and hurt by another human being. We feel helpless as our loved one suffers humiliation, sadness, heartache, and disappointment at the hands of someone they once loved. The helplessness comes from having no control. We can do nothing to change the outcome for them.

Oh sure - we fantasize about confronting the person causing the harm, twisting their nose and telling them the fault of their ways (using lots of words that require #%#^$), berating them for the pain they have caused. We dream of telling them that size does matter. But when it is all said and done what- if anything - will be accomplished - save for few moments of therapeutic venting? Nothing will have changed.

It's ugly to witness and I suppose harder to be the object of the wrath and hatred. Better to put your empathy hat on and offer two loving arms and soft place for your loved one to fall. Sometimes it's the best we can do. Sometimes it all we can do.

Reading and Writing

Last Sunday I had all three of my girls home - to myself - for a few hours. The perfect gift of time. They came bearing gifts of almond croissants, berry tarts and scones -- and a spectacular orchid. The day was chilly and dismal - perfect for a cosy visit. As we lounged lazily about the family room I reached for my drugstore cheater reading glasses and pulled out my stack of journals. I had bookmarked some special entries that I wanted to share with the girls. They obliged me and over the next hour and half I read accounts of their births, my thoughts about mothering and the joyful moments they brought to my life. For some reason I felt compelled to share these intimate writings with them. Maybe I wanted them to know how much they meant to me and how their very being brought colour, hope and the deepest kind of love into my life. I can't speak for them however that hour and half will be filed in my cherished memory file, forever.

My father also started writing this year --writing with a vengeance. He began writing last summer and made it a daily ritual. He started at the beginning of his life - his first memory - and worked through every year and meaningful experience and wrote it out on his computer. Then he printed every single page. The result is a tidy stack of paper representing his life's experiences, impressions and perceptions; his dreams, regrets, triumphs and tribulations. And he entrusted it to me to read. I can't wait to dive in and immerse myself ... and get acquainted with my father the child, the teenager and the young man.

Isn’t it curious how we feel the need to document; to sort through our life as if to make sense of it; find meaning in it? I think of my journals and my dad’s writing as a kind of footprint that we are making/leaving. Someday, if anyone so chooses, they can find their way to our truth, as we lived it.

Maybe this blog is a footprint too. Just a thought…

Wordless Wednesday

Happy Mother's Day ~ And it was ...

Choosing our response

Haven't we all had thoughts or preconceived notions that we are not proud of -- feelings or ideas about things that we didn't even know we had? I think most of us would like to think we are open minded, unbiased, or non judgemental. Then we find ourselves looking at the homeless person squatting beside the curb with a cup out for coin and we feel a little more than a little uncomfortable. Or we pass a group of young lads with black skin decked out in hip hop duds and clutch our purses a little tighter. Snap judgements that we'd be ashamed to admit -- to ourselves or anyone else. These are revealing moments for us ... teaching moments.

I don't think we can help or stop those initial feelings or reactions that expose ... but we can control our response. We can "grow" through it, move past "tolerance" onto acceptance and understanding. We sell ourselves short and deprive ourselves of possibilities when we cave to generalizations and prejudice. Take for example my first encounter of women loving women when I joined the Women's Centre in college. I had never seen women being romantic and affectionate with one another and I can recall the knot in my stomach and the utter discomfort that comes with fear and ignorance. I pretended to be OK with it all and let me guard down enough to actually get to know the same women I had been cringing about. Fear fell away with the labels. Misconceptions were replaced with warm human beings and soon I didn't have to pretend. Lesbian had a face ... and a heart attached to it.

I can think of many times when I have battled my inner "isms" - and I know I am winning the war. I aspire to have a heart that is big and pure enough to love and accept the shapes, shades and variations of humankind. It's a choice I can make.

Safe to come out?

OK - spring was here -- I know it. I saw it with my own eyes. And the proof is everywhere ... tulips are in full bloom, the magnolia tree has flourished (come and gone), the lilac tree is bulging with flower buds and the fruit tree branches hang heavy with blossoms. Why then the frost warning for tonight and the forecast of sub zero temperatures? Has spring gone into hiding or what?

My backyard spa is ready and waiting; my legs are sporting a gorgeous artificial golden glow (thanks Dove), the sleeveless attire has replaced the sweaters on the hangers and I am ready for heat, sun and fun darn it all! I feel like the bud on the branch in this picture ... ready to come out and embrace the sunshine ... instead ... it's like stepping out of a hot shower into the evening chill. Hence we stay wrapped up tight ... waiting impatiently. I heard a juicy rumour today -- the weekend is supposed to be "nice". This is one time that I hope the rumours are true.

Spring -- come out, come out, wherever you are. I think it's safe now.

Mother's Day Blessings

I make it well known how much I dread Mother's Day ... however now that the day is here, I am choosing to be grateful for that which I have - and not dwell on what/who I am missing. So today, as a mother of three goddesses who had an inspiring mother of my own, I am celebrating the blessings in my life ...

Three Precious Treasures
Privileged to be the mother of three exceptional young women who have lofty dreams and spirits to match. The world - and my heart - is better with them in it.

Hubby
A gentle, complex, loving man to share my journey with.

Parents
Blessed with a mother and father who loved me unconditionally and taught me the importance of family; and now a step-mom with a big heart to love not only my dad, but her inherited family as well.

Brother
Little brother is simply the finest person I know - and an outstanding father to his son. I admire the man he has become.

Sisters
My mother told me that in my sisters, she was giving me built-in best friends. She was right. I love these ladies.

Friends
My father once told me that I would be lucky to have just one good friend. And I am -- I have a handful. I call them my chosen family.

Furry Friend
I have a cuddly schnauzer who likes to sleep with his head on my shoulder and who - no matter how my day has been -- greets me with more enthusiasm and love than you could imagine.

Home
I live in a cosy space that is overflowing with memories and echoes of love, laughter and the voices of my children and the past.

Work
I work with a team of people I love, doing a job I enjoy, for a cause which I am passionate about. It can't get any better than that, and especially in these times, I am grateful to be employed.

Time
At this stage of my life I have more time than ever to explore creative interests and do things like blog. I have time to ponder and wonder ...and just be.

Life
I have created a life I love -- filled with people who I love.

But I still miss you Mom.

Mothers In My Life

With Mother's Day almost here (technically it just arrived), and not having a mother with me, it got me thinking about the other mothers in my life. MIH, my two beautiful sisters and my two precious friends -- all who are wonderful mothers.

I miss my mom tremendously however I am choosing to honour the women in my life who have raised children - and dedicated themselves to launching solid, well loved people. It's one of the most important jobs there is ...

Happy Mother's Day. Your children are fortunate to have you guiding them.