Category Archives: Challenges

Today

Today I woke up at 5:15 am.

I kissed the kids and Craig goodbye as they left for school and work, and then went off to work myself. It was another day. A day that felt heavy because of worries I thought were real.

Today Craig went to work. He got dressed and prepared for meetings.

He made his lunch and read the news. He drank his coffee and left in time to get to Halifax.

Today Mark dressed in bright colours for Pride Day at school. He thought about Badminton try outs and tried not to be nervous about them.

He prepared to navigate the halls of high school as a 14 year old boy.

Today Megan submitted her courses for her final year at Horton. She donned a bright headband and bracelets for Pride Day.

She went to school incredibly proud to be partaking in her very first Blood Donation. She left voicing why she wanted to do it and her pride and determination to do so was palpable. She wanted to give life.

But today as she was giving life, as all of this was happening, as we were going about our everyday-day, thinking we knew what “heavy” was, our Jadyn, our SuperGirl, our light, our love, our positive shining star, took her last breath.

This wasn’t supposed to happen today.

But it did. It doesn’t feel real.

But it is.

And so I can’t let today go by without this:

We love you Jadyn. We will remember, honour and celebrate you. We will whisper thank you for all that you taught us about strength, optimism and courage. We will remember to laugh in hard times, to have close friendships, to be silly, to keep smiling, and to give back to those who have helped us along the way. This is how you lived your life and we promise we were watching and listening.

We promise we will do all of this … we will make you as proud of us as we are of you …. next year, next week, tomorrow … and even today … March 6, 2018.

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Posing the Questions

It’s been a week full of sadness in so many ways. A week of sudden loss, of impending unfathomable news, of waiting to see if there is plan to fight, and yet another relapse.

I came home from a road trip with my family and saw all of these separate events in a matter of 24 hours on Facebook. I don’t check Facebook when I’m away, and now I’m left numb with much so much sadness and reality.

As I’ve written about in previous posts, I don’t always function well with Social Media. And I guess today is one of those days.

Is my world better for knowing this news and being able to respond to my friends? Of course. Is it better for them to be able to post such news once instead repeating it 100 times? I believe it is.

But what does a world look like where you are processing a terminal diagnosis alongside a family’s fun day at the beach, alongside a relapse, alongside what someone ate for supper, along side a suicide, alongside a dancing cat? 



All with the quick scroll of a thumb. 



How can we process this as human beings without becoming somehow detached?

How does this medium we all are using ~ all of the time ~ affect how we place value, on what we place value, and how we react?

How are our brains functioning – I mean physically functioning – discovering all these things – all at once – in the same space – on the inside of a few moments?

I don’t have the answer. Not for me. Not for my kids. I don’t. 

But I’m posing the question. I’m posing the question because it worries me that we don’t seem to ever sit back and reflect on this and take any action.

So for now I’m taking a break. 

This summer – and consciously moving forward – I’m choosing how – and if – social media will be a part of my life. Not how I will be a part of its life. 

I’ll be back – probably soon – but I know myself well enough that every once in awhile I need to step away. I need to step away and pose the question about this social media phenomenon ~ even if no one understands why I do.

And even if I never have the answer.

I Don’t Know How to do This Anymore

I don’t know how to do this anymore.

I don’t know how to wake up in the morning and find that Kinley passed away through the night. That this bright, beautiful seventeen year old isn’t walking the earth anymore.

I don’t know how to watch the sunrise on my verandah while Megan and Mark get to sleep upstairs in their beds.

I don’t know how to live with my gratitude that extends to – who – just a few of us?

I don’t know how to live anymore with the dichotomy of fear and calm. Of gratitude and anger. 

I don’t know how to count my blessings or be thankful anymore.

I no longer know how to have perspective. What does that look like?

I don’t know how to honour all of these amazing children. These children of my Mommas. These children who have been stolen from their families. 

And also these children who have relapsed and whose families have pressed this insane repeat button. Too many of us this past year. Weren’t we all just there? In Texas? Taking on the world? How is this happening? 

I don’t know where, or how, to find the words I need. To help. To give strength. 

I don’t know how to keep being as selfish as I am with what I get to have.

I don’t know why I get the privilege of asking these questions as they scream and grieve and cry and ask other questions I can’t even begin to fathom.

I don’t know how to keep doing this. To be the lucky one of the unlucky ones. For now.

I don’t know how.

I don’t know how anymore.

But it doesn’t matter if I don’t know how.

Because none of what I don’t know matters. 

What I do know is that each of these Mommas – my Mommas who I stood shoulder to shoulder with only four years ago – would give their lives to be asking the same questions I get the opportunity of asking this morning. 

And that is all there is.

But I still don’t know how it can be. 

Finding My Balance

For years now I have struggled with my relationship to social media. That fine line of enjoying it in so many ways but sometimes feeling uneasy with its use in my life.  

I have taken those feelings to the extremes of both using it too often and “searching” for something I wasn’t even sure of, and also to the other extreme of walking away from it all completely and logging off for months at a time.

Back around November I decided to take stock again with this phenomenon I’ve allowed into my life, and do a little soul searching about how I was feeling about its place in my world. What I found was that I had surprisingly come to a place of feeling more balanced than I ever had in the past about its role.

The following are some thoughts of where I have found my own personal balance and comfort level. 

I should preface this of course by saying that this is my balance. We all have different comfort levels, and your balance will be different from mine. And mine will be different itself in one months time, or one years time. I have interestingly learned that mine is fluid and changes based on a whole slew of things in my life. 

But I do strongly feel that the world can be a better place if we are all conscious of where we are on that spectrum of use and that we are choosing to be where we are.

So for me, for now, here are some things that have helped me find my balance in what I feel is an over-connected world.  

No Data

I don’t carry data on my phone. (Insert gasp here). So unless I have wiifii I cannot connect to the broader world. I made this a conscious decision when first getting a smart phone. It simply limits my ability to connect. Plus my phone bill is $15.00 per month. Literally. So, you know, I kind of love that.

WiiFii Turned Off

When I do have access to wii fii (which let’s face it is almost everywhere now except my vehicle) I don’t leave it turned on. When I want to go search something – whether it’s Facebook, E-mail, Google or Instagram, I go into my settings, turn it on, and when I finish I turn it off. Sounds archaic right? I know!!! But I swear it’s where I have found my comfort zone. 

It makes me very purposeful about being connected and not passive. I find that instead of “reacting constantly” to beeps and notifications I instead “act when I choose to”.

Not Bedside 

This started as a rule when my kiddos became connected. We felt strongly it shouldn’t be the last thing they look at before bed and not the first thing they reach for in the morning. 

At first I didn’t apply this new rule to me. My phone was right there on my night table. But after awhile I realized how important it was for me to “sit in my own thoughts before I start the day.” To be quiet with myself or to actually talk to my husband before reaching for my phone to find out what everyone else is doing. Why would I want to start MY day all about someone else? Even the news is about someone else. 

It was a bit of a struggle at first. Scratch that. It was a huge struggle. Try it for a couple of days. It isn’t easy. It had become habit, reaching for that phone in the morning. But I’m glad I did it. It’s how I want to choose to start my day.  

Craig still chooses to keep his on his nighttable. That’s his choice and I’m absolutely ok with that. My choice is the right one for me.

The Share Button

I have an entire other blog post in my head about sharing in today’s world, so I won’t go into this in depth right now. Suffice to say that I love to have fun and share lots of different things – some serious and some silly – often I’ve found with no rhyme nor reason. 

But the one thing I know for sure – sharing something does not make that experience, or my life, better. At all. And when I do share I am very conscious of who else is a part of that share – especially if it involves other people.

Using FB Messenger

I didn’t understand the FB Messenger App for a long time. Why not just use the message button on FB? It’s like right there!! But now it’s one of my favourite apps. It allows me to converse with people, and often groups of people, I want to without having to be on Facebook itself and hear and see the endless posts and notifications. With Messenger I’m making a choice about who to engage with and I don’t have to deal with the white noise. 

Addressing FOMO

This is a rough one for me. I am social by nature and enjoy being out and about in the world. But I’ve learned that having these caveats in place for myself will inevitably lead to missing out on things – since I don’t carry data my iMessage group chat is very rarely on, I don’t see general posts as quickly as others do, and I’ve realized sometimes miss them entirely. That took some getting used to, but I’ve become pretty ok with it.

Modelling 

There are so many things I do a poor job modelling with my kids. But I want screen time and social media to be one I atleast TRY to walk the talk with. It is the largest influence in their world. Period. 

When they look at me I don’t want them to see a phone in my hand all the time, or hear beeps all the time, or see my face in a screen. It’s very important to me. Because I’m asking – no – I’m insisting – the same from them. So when I come home I make sure my phone is not on me or beside me all the time. It’s important what they see (or don’t see) and it’s what I want.

One Screen at a Time

This is another rule we have with the kiddos. (Yes – we are “these parents”). Not all kiddo rules apply to parents on the Bluff Road but this one makes sense to us as well. So if I am watching TV I won’t be on my phone (or tablet or laptop). Besides, my pea size brain can only process so much stimulation! 

Talking is the Priority

I love talking on the old fashioned phone. I have a friend who rarely a week goes by when we don’t call each other. Sometimes they are long deep conversations. Often they are silly 5 minute touch-bases. She will never know how much those mean to me and how connected they make me feel. And texting. Well if I can’t have the old fashioned phone I will take texting over social media. I know texting is still a screen but it’s me engaging with someone in a purposeful way. One on one. Which brings me to …

I am Not Interchangeable.  (And I will not make you interchangeable)

There seems to be a growing trend of just putting something out there in the social media world, where your 325 friends see it on your wall, with a broad leading question attached to it, about an informal or formal social gathering. From these posts come numerous responses. It seems that we are valuing “any” interaction over interaction with people of our conscious choosing. It makes for a feeling of interchangeability. “It doesn’t really matter “who” I do that activity with … the first few random people who see my post are good enough for me.  

Addiction

I left this to the last because I think it’s the one we need to talk about most in our society right now.

Addiction is real and I do believe some people may be more prone to it than others. I also believe in this social media world that that number is growing – and growing fast. 

 
If we all made a pact to be without our phones and social media for just one day a week could we do it? I think we would all say YES!!! Yes ofcourse we could!!! What a silly question! It’s only one day! 

But let’s ask ourselves … how many times – in just ONE DAY – do we check social media? How many times? How many times do we scroll and refresh that feed? How many times are we just searching for … what? 

Really. Think of a number. Say it out loud. I think the number is scary and I think it’s why I have tried to put these caveats in place for myself ….

Because I guess the bottom line for me is this:

I’ve realized that “being on my phone” isn’t “who I want to be” in the world.

She Called Me Back

Three years ago I went through a hard time and struggled with some emotional and mental health issues.

A lot was behind me. Or so I thought I guess. 

But this post isn’t about what I was going through or why. My issues did end up being something I should have expected … they just “arrived late to the party” so to speak.

What this post ‘is’ about is that we all go through hard times, and sometimes although it should be easy to ask for help, especially when you have amazing friends and family like I do, the reality isn’t always as easy as we may perceive.

It was an evening after the kids went to bed. Craig was travelling on the road for work. I had been talking to a friend on the phone and when I hung up, well, that was it.

I broke.

I don’t mean I broke down crying (although I did … a lot) and I don’t mean had a psychotic break (although the potential was there) … I mean I broke in a way that’s difficult to explain, but somehow I know it’s the exact right word to use.

I had never in my life experienced anything like it before. I had been through years of unfathomable situations, and not once did I feel the way I did that night or those months that followed.

I managed to get from the chair by my desk in the kitchen to the sofa in my living room.

I felt if I didn’t reach out to someone that I may lose myself. That sounds melodramatic I know … but it was very truly what I felt. I needed help in a way I never had before and somehow I knew that. 

There are moments in your life that are core memories. Me sitting on that sofa was one of them.

So there I am. Sitting on my sofa in a state I had never experienced before. Even through everything I was the strong one. I was the positive one. I carried the weight. 

What the hell was THIS?!!??

So I picked up the phone. Now this is the point in the story you expect to hear “I dialed a friends number, easily poured out my heart, hung up the phone and it was a rocky but manageable time.”

It didn’t work like that for me. At least not that night.

That is what you see in the movies. In reality – in my reality – it worked like this.

I made a total of four phone calls.

The first call I got my girlfriend on the other end. But because I am who I am (an idiot) I started small talk. I could tell it was a very busy time of year for her and that her life – her cup – was quite frankly overflowing into a soon uncontrollable river … just like so many of us Moms who delicately juggle 20 more balls in the air than we should. We know each other so well and are alike in many ways.

So I hung up the phone with nothing said.

I didn’t want to be one more thing. I didn’t want to be a burden. I think this is sometimes the catch 22 with our closest friends and family. We care so much about them and what they are already dealing with in their lives. We don’t want to be a weight. We want to be the one to ‘lift’ the weight, not add to it. I know this is how I felt that night with her, and I know it’s how I feel with those closest to me like my Mom and Craig.  But it’s not right, and I can feel them yelling at me through this post as I type it.

The second phone call resulted in another girlfriends answering machine.

I left no message.

I was quickly running out of people I could be so raw and real and scary around.

Call number three was a chance.

It was to a friend who had only been in my life a few years and quite frankly we hadn’t had many soulful conversations – just ones that touch the surface of our lives – kids, work, school, activities – but I felt there ‘could be’ something deeper there between us.

So I called anyway.

She was home.

She was also in the middle of kid-crisis mode – her son had a significantly large project due the following day – of which he had barely started. So she was up to her ears in deadlines.

Once more I made small talk and hung up the phone.

Certainly these are examples of what NOT to do when experiencing an emotional breakdown. I should have “taken care of me” more and been honest with these women. I should have worried less about disturbing their lives and poured my heart out. And although that’s easier to say than do when people are busy, I do also know that each of them would have been there for me, but I didn’t give them the chance to do so.  

I think it’s hard to admit, but my hesitation to disturb these women’s lives, these friends lives, is an all-too-common trait as mothers and women in the world. It’s one thing to say it – it’s another thing to walk it. Especially in a moment when I was so vulnerable and terrified of what was happening to me.

So we are on to call number 4. Looking back now it amazes me I even picked up the phone 4 times. It isn’t like me to reach out for help in that way. I think it’s a testament as to how bad it was.

I remember sitting on the edge of the couch and kind of slipping down off of it. “Well that’s stupid”, I thought, as I sat on the hard floor crying. That IS something that happens in the movies. Who falls off a couch?? 

And then it became hard to breath and I really thought I may be experiencing a true mental break that I may have to call an ambulance for. It sounds so absurd as I type it – but that is the state I was in.

So somewhere I found the strength to pick up the phone again. 

This call was a risk as well. Someone I knew on the periphery of my life, who I would absolutely call a friend, but not close. She did however, always have a depth that I ‘recognized’. I looked up her number in the phone book (a pretty good indication of our lack-of-bond). I remember thinking how small the print is in the phone book and how hard it was to read.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

No answer.

That was it.

I had nothing left in me to reach out. I was done.

At that moment I have never felt more alone in all my life. I’m trying to think if that’s really true and I think it is.

And then – the phone rings. 

It’s her.

And I pick it up.

She saw my number on her display. Or she star-sixty-nined me. I don’t remember now.  But there she was. 

The minutes, hours and days that followed is a long story for another time. 

But I will say, that after a few months, and then a few months after that, I finally was on the other side. I had symptoms of delayed Acute Stress Disorder. It is similar to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and ofcourse it was a no brainer it had finally come home to roost after seven years. It was time to break. Time to stop being strong. And combine all of that with turning 40, preparing to shave bald, and hormones … well … it really is miraculous it hadn’t happened before this.

I often whisper thank you for finding the strength to ask for help during that night – and I carry with me many lessons learned about being better at asking for help ‘the first three times’ no matter what.

These many years later there are still things that are crystal clear from that conversation during my ‘fourth phone call’ and there are many things that are not. But the following two I remember with great clarity:

Her saying: “I’m so glad you called”.

And me thinking: “I’m so glad she called me back.”

Someone Else

You were always my “Someone Else”.

Even though we never stayed in touch.

But we didn’t need to did we? We recognized ourselves in each other and didn’t need the expectations to be anything we weren’t or couldn’t be.

I creeped you on Facebook today. For the first time. Ever.

Ten years later.

That’s hard to believe isn’t it?

A part of me was scared of what I would find.

Or more accurately what I wouldn’t find.

But there she was. A head full of hair. A beautiful, growing teenager – with a smile to rival any.

Standing with awards and proud parents. 

My heart exploded!

I just went through old photos and there she is in so many. There you are.

Both of you nearly bald.

How has it been ten years?

Ten years since we met. Since I gave you that Pink Fuzzy Bird. Just like mine. 

Since we made each other go outside and breathe fresh air. Since we made each other leave their sides – for just an hour while they slept.

I remember when we finally left. Six weeks later. For good. We got to leave before you. A part of me ached for you even though I so much wanted to go. 

And then a part of me wanted to stay. Safe. Secure. Up on 6. The opposite of what most feel about that number. That floor.

I remember soon after I left – your letter to me. Her heart stopped from one of the drugs. I wasn’t there. How could of that happened when I wasn’t there? When I wasn’t there for you?

I remember when we came back with the liver disease. For a month. And then it was you who wasn’t there. My turn to feel the loneliness. My turn to walk in the darkness for real this time.

There are stories of people and friendships that were forged during these times – who still stay in touch and have become each other’s comrades for life. Side by side. Best friends in each others lives.

That isn’t our story. That isn’t what everyone always needs. We needed all the strength we could muster to be what we needed to be for them. There was little left to give.

How can a time with someone that was so fleeting be so significant?

I love that we never tried to be any more or any less than what we were to each other.

We didn’t need to be.

You were perfect. 

We were perfect. 

Exactly what I needed. At the time when I needed you most.

Still.

Always.

My Someone Else.

There’s a Big Difference


Dear Megan and Mark,

I love YOU so I will always happily do things for you.

But please know … I don’t always LOVE doing things for you.

Read it again. There’s a big difference.



Love, 
Mom



Last week I was driving Mark and Megan to school. Later that day they had soccer practice, piano lessons times two, a party, and a dentist appointment thrown in for good measure.

In the front seat I was going over the seemingly complicated agenda of the day. Who was picking up who from where, at what time and what they needed to have ready.

It was one of those days where there were four activities, only two of them and small windows to transition between each.

There are days when I feel overwhelmed by this, and days I feel energized and grateful. I’m lucky that most times it is the latter. I’m extremely conscious of how blessed we are to be doing all of this and how each and every activity is a choice made by us. No one forced these on us. It is what we want to do and what we choose to do. 

And although of course there are days accompanied with a big sigh and rolled eyes, because I’m human, this day wasn’t one of them.

So as we were going through the logistics of the day, Mark says to me, “And Mom you get a chance to read your book.”

Wait a minute. Excuse me. What?????? WHAT??!!!!??

Because it’s the way he says it. It is just so non-chalant.

He wasn’t being sarcastic or rude. He GENUINELY thought this was something I would love to do. 

Some “me” time. 

A little “gift” I would be receiving in the middle of the day.

A chance to read a chapter from my book while sitting in the drivers seat on a rainy day cramped behind the steering wheel waiting for him before rushing to the next thing.

It was a HUGE wake up moment for me.

And it dawned on me. He really and truly thought that I was having a blissful time as I waited in that car for him.  

Oh boy. Maybe I’m doing a little too good of job being positive in life. 

Because kid, let me tell you, given the choice, you will ALWAYS come first in my life. I love you. BUT don’t kid yourself that sitting in this car, or driving you places, or having to be somewhere at a certain time, or sitting through a band concert of newbie tuba players, is where I find my deep personal joy. I can list 82 places I do find that joy – but these aren’t any of them.

Watching you play a soccer game, or listening to you at a recital, or watching you in a theatre performance. THESE things all bring me IMMENSE joy. But all the thousand things in between that – to enable those moments to happen – well, just be aware that there in fact is a difference.

So while I love you and am happy to do things for you BECAUSE of that love – I am also a vibrant, passionate, multifaceted human being who has numerous things I’d rather be doing if you weren’t involved in this little scenario this rainy Monday evening.

So as long as we have that straight – which bears repeating:

I love YOU so I will always happily do things for you. 

But please know … I don’t always LOVE doing things for you.

As long as we are clear on that, and the difference that lies there, onward we go. 
We have a lot to do and a short time to do it. Because you are loved. So very much. 

Let’s hit the road.