Happy Birthday, Lori

Thank you for listening to me when I need to talk or vent. Playing the devils advocate which irritates the hell out of me until I realize it is your way of being impartial, sensible, logical, and rational; thereby helping me to think things through.

Thank you for encouraging the bond of sisters. In this busy day and age we tend to forget to celebrate our closest allies.

Thank you for your hand-written letters over a period of years some time ago. Sometimes I read them and they bring back memories and a recollection of the days when people actually took the time to do that.

Thank you for your witty, sassy, plucky, soulful, frank, and fabulous personality. You always bring a chuckle to a conversation.

Thank you for being sentimental and vulnerable while managing to be strong, inspiring, outspoken, and capable.

Thank you for your memories of Mom and Dad when you were still at home and I was thousand of miles away. You knew and have shared details I would not otherwise know.

Thank you for your facebook musings that I look forward to. You are quite a talented writer. Please refer back to the witty, sassy, plucky comment above.

Thank you for your generous and beautiful spirit. Your willingness to forgive, to open your heart.

Happy Birthday Sister.

Love you,

Cathy

Hockey and Screamers

I go to my grandson's hockey games because I absolutely love to watch him play. I cheer for the team and it is hard to sit still while I watch because I get so excited. One time I had a front row seat with my camera taping as he made a goal and in my excitement the video is me screaming as the camera pans the ceiling. Ya, eye roll. Lately I find I'm a bit distracted by the screamer sitting nearby - SKATE! COME ON! WTH! GO! PASS! SKATE! OMG! Head in her hands, she can't believe what she is seeing. I mean really. To her, I say get up off your fat ass and see if you can stand on your skates for 30 seconds without falling. Because apparently you have no idea how freaking awesome these kids are. They put themselves out there every game and they go hard. And they don't always win but they are out there skating their butts off and I feel so proud of each and every one of them. To you the loud mouthed screamer? I'm sorry you find it necessary to 'inspire' them to do better with your 'encouraging' screaming. And I hope that after the game you are inspired to tell your child that you love to watch him/her play no matter who wins or looses.

Happy Birthday, Lynne

Happy Birthday, Lynne

A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost. ~ Marion C. Garretty

She is kind and thoughtful. She does little things for others with no expectation of anything in return. She is quiet and reserved but knows what she wants and who she is.

Sisters are different flowers from the same garden. ~ Author Unknown

She doesn't have a lot of friends but the ones she has are close. She is strong. She can be strong enough to help others through any storm.

In the cookies of life, sisters are the chocolate chips. ~ uthor Unknown

She is sophisticated and talented. She is our Martha Stewart. She is loving and ernest in her desire to be helpful. She always means well.

The mildest, drowsiest sister has been known to turn tiger if her sibling is in trouble. ~ Clara Ortega

She is sensitive. When she hurts she withdraws. She doesn't always realize her own power. She is determined and resilient. She always finds her way back, stronger than before.

A sister is a forever friend. ~Author Unknown

She reminds me of our mother who I see each time I look at her and that eases my loss some. She is one third of a sisterhood that grows stronger every year.
Sisters function as safety nets in a chaotic world simply by being there for each other. ~ Carol Saline

She is spiritual. She tries to right wrongs. She is forgiving. She is an old soul. She deserves more than she realizes. She is loved more than she knows.

To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other’s hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time. ~ Clara Ortega

Happy Birthday, Lynne
I love you.

Gratitude - Day Four

1. My Mom and Dad. Because they did the best they could and when they knew better, they did better.

2. My daughter Heather Atton Cook and my son Wilde Carrot. Both inspire me in different ways to be a better person.

3. My previous husband, father of my children, good friend, Paul Atton. There is no denying the rough patches we've been through but over time the good has outweighed the bad and I am grateful for his friendship.

Gratitude - Day Three

Gratitude
Day Three 

1. Memories. I've been reading some interesting articles about memories and how they can differ among family and friends who were all part of the same experience. The experience may have been rooted in reality but the perception of that reality can differ, sometimes drastically. I've had conversations with siblings where I wonder where the hell I was because their interpretation of the shared situation is so different. I've come to realize that our perception is just that. It is a mixture of accuracy (fact, reality), imagination, emotion, beliefs, and over time, memories merged into memories. Regardless, our memories (shared or otherwise) make up a huge part of who we are and without them (good, bad, disputed, indifferent, selective, sad, glorious) we would be alone and left to wonder who we are. And the best part is that we can choose how our memories affect us.

2. Siblings. Partners in crime. Mortal enemies. Competitor. Good friends. Bane of your existence. Someone you can be mean to but will defend against outsiders. Co-conspirator. We all had our ups and downs with siblings as we grew up but I can't imagine not having brothers and sisters. There has been love, laughter, betrayal, tears, joy, sadness, teasing, shared memories, anger, trust, distrust, kindness, jealousy, envy, friendship, respect, patience, hope, confusion, forgiveness. We share memories; good, bad, disputed, indifferent, selective, sad, glorious. There may be times that we don't talk or see each other for weeks or months at a time but when we come together, it is like coming home.
3. Forgiveness. I have been betrayed and in the depths of despair and I have done wrong and asked for forgiveness. Forgiveness is a choice but more importantly, it is the only choice. To truly forgive you have to live and practice it until you get it right. You will know in your heart when that happens.

Happy Birthday Heather (2013)

Thirty-six years ago I was a twenty-one year old child about to embark on a journey about which I knew nothing. I had only the examples set by my parents which were stellar by all accounts but that alone is not enough to prepare one for bringing a life into the world and being a parent. On June 24th, 1977 at 4:51 pm, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl who changed my life changed forever. 

The first time I thought of you,
My heart filled with wonder
The first time I felt you,
My heart filled with joy.
The first time I saw you,
My heart was lost to you forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the day you were born,
It seemed as if the trees stood a little taller,
the breeze danced a little warmer,
and the stars shone a little brighter.

I don't know that I was ever the best Mom. But I was Your Mom. And that has been and always will be a privilege that brings me joy.

Happy Birthday to my passionate, funny, gregarious, courageous, extroverted, dynamic, determined, ambitious, brave, resourceful, tough, sensitive, emotional, persistent, hot-headed, larger-than-life, plucky, daughter. 

June 24, 2013

Gratitude - Day Two

1. To have been able to hold my Mom's hands as she took her final breaths. I wanted to hold her in my arms and I desperately wanted her to know that we were there, that she was not alone. I was not able to be there when my Dad died but I've been told that just before he slipped away, he rested his head on my Mom's shoulder.

2. My best friend, partner, and husband Mark. Something I wrote a year ago (which may or may not have an x-rated line or two removed):

I love you because...of the way you think of others no matter who it is or how long you have known them. You have empathy.

I love you because...you have heart. I know that at times you have taken your emotions and tucked them into a safe little pocket inside your heart so that you can be okay. But I've seen you wear your heart on your sleeve.

I love you because...you cry. Again, you have heart.

I love you because...you are honest and ethical. For you a handshake is enough. If you say you will do something, you do it. You always try to do the right thing.

I love you because...you have the patience to walk someone through the simplest tasks that don't make sense to them. All without making them feel silly for not getting it.

I love you because...you were a son to my Mom.

I love you because...you have little anal habits that used to make me laugh and now I've developed them.

I love you because...you have a forgiving and loving heart with your Mom and Dad.

I love you because...you can laugh at yourself.

I love you because...you are selfless. If you can do a good turn for someone you don't hesitate and you do it with no expectation of something in return.

I love you because...to Michael and Emily, you are 'my Mark' (as Michael said one day - instead of my Dad, or my Gramma).

I love you because...if it was possible you would still have the same doctor and dentist that you had as a child. You stay with what you know and you don't waiver easily.

I love you because...you have a sense of humour. You make Michael and Emily laugh. That sense of humour was what first attracted me to you.

I love you because...you cried when Michael was a baby and you were falling in love with him.

I love you because...you are romantic. I have cards with your love poems. I have dried flowers from the arrangements you have brought home. You have tended me when I am sick.

I love you because...you are thoughtful. You think about things, you are not impulsive.

I love you because...you are patient. You had to be with me.

I love you because...you are a good listener and a good friend.

I love you because...you are worldly and knowledgeable about so many different things. You are a smart man.

I love you because...you treat everyone with respect and courtesy. You are not sexist. You allow people 'to be'.

I love you because...you are spiritual. You believe in what is meant to be. You carry in you, some of the spiritual knowledge that your Mom has.

I love you because...you are graceful under pressure, respectful of others. You treat people well.

I love you because...you are strong, competent, and independent. You will always pull your own weight. And more.

I love you because...you are not just part of my family. You are my family.

I love you because...you are careful. With your heart. And mine.

3. My grandchildren. I am not the funniest, the smartest, the most popular, or the most athletic. I am not the best at everything I do, or the most knowledgeable. Certainly not the wittiest with comebacks. I am not the best looking, the fastest, or the most powerful. I am not gregarious, outgoing, or have the most friends. I am imperfect and sensitive. I can be a control freak, cry easily, and sometimes feel depressed and sorry for myself. In the grand scheme of life, I am but one small particle but when I hear, 'I love you Gramma' I am reminded that I am the luckiest person ever and that in that moment I make a difference and have a responsibility to be the best I can be.

Gratitude - Day One

1. Air conditioning. In my house, in my car, in my room and office at camp. If I could I would have a personal portable mini air conditioner bubble to transport me in between air conditioned spaces.

2. Facebook (and the internet). Allows me to stay tuned to what is going on in other people's lives, not to mention living vicariously through them. Seriously, I have no idea how I raised kids without the support of dozens of friends and family and information sharing.

3. Cell phones. If I hadn't lived through it (I did not have a cell phone until I was 40 and my kids were adults) I would tell you that you CAN"T SURVIVE WITHOUT ONE).

Happy Birthday, Ferne (2014)

She 'sprinkles glitter wherever she goes', brings sunshine to those she loves, is high on barbie shoes and low on drama. She lights up my brother's life and welcomes us all with open arms. She is beautiful. Inside and out. Happy Birthday, Ferne!

Love, C

Look at you

powerful coach passionate mother gregarious party-planner determined
sociable supporter resourceful daughter fun author intuitive artist helper
persistent wife quick-witted mentor courageous friend kind sister witty
compassionate teacher dynamic nurse emotional chauffeur truth-teller
cook adventurous pro-active baker honest reader hard-worker organizer
strong gentle straight-forward spiritual renovator sympathetic gardener
self-disciplined tough housekeeper lover understanding sensitive athlete

Happy Birth Day Heather
You are my sunshine
I love you,
Mom
June 24, 2014

The heart remembers

The heart remembers what the mind forgets.
Your voice, your love, your advice, your help, your hard work,
providing for all of us, the best you could,
your swearing (where do you think I learned),
your tickling,, your humour (all of my friends remember you being fun).
Driving so fast we took the corner on two wheels,
stopping behind a car at the lights, getting as close to it as possible,
bumping into it and sitting there looking angelic, both hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead,
....me in the passenger seat, delighted and embarrased.
The image of you running down the stairs, rounding the corner into the kitchen,
forgetting the child gate was in the doorway, you hanging in a V shape on the childs gate, naked.
Laughing about it for years to come.
You, getting the child's head out from being stuck in the stair spokes, some too young to remember, only aware
because of family stories and history.
You and me, long drives, low on conversation but aware of the love shared.
You, angry, hot-headed, pulling out the belt, apologizing after.
You, in the garage, working, grandaughter in tow, learning.
You, sharing oversized cookies for your birthday, kisses and hugs.
You, helping where ever you could, rescuing us often.
You and me, sharing a scotch at the neighbourhood bar.
You and me, drag racing down 16th Avenue at Christmas time.
You, struggling to do your best with what you had and what you had been dealt in your own life.
You, in your hospital bed saying no one gets out of here alive, you with your head on Mom's shoulder,
taking your last breath.
Leaving me filled with pain, confusion, emptiness, and a broken heart.
Thank you for loving us and for being who you were.
My heart remembers.
I love you, Dad.
Happy Father's Day.
2014

C

It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance

I spend so much of my life second guessing myself in everything I do. I don't know what I am so afraid of. Actually, that's not true. I'm afraid of rejection. Of being abandoned.

My post about drinking is a perfect example. I want to be honest. I want to acknowledge my faults and choices and mistakes and stop the endless cycle of guilt and self doubt that is my life. I recognize there is a distance in my family and I want to make it better. I can't fix what I don't acknowledge. 

To write about any part of my life is risky. I risk being judged. Because to be judged is to risk abandonment and rejection. But I do it and then I think about it and go back and read it and start to think (code for second guessing myself). Did I start drinking exactly the first night I moved out? Probably not but it certainly was around that time. Did I drink every night? Well, no. But probably most nights. Maybe four out of seven. Did I drink for nine years? Why not seven or ten, where did I come up with nine? Did I drive drunk a lot with my kids in the car. No, probably a handful of times but then once is too often.

And then I realize I am having this conversation with myself and it's all semantics. It doesn't matter if it was seven years or nine. It doesn't matter if it was every night or every other night. What matters is that my behaviour and choices caused pain. Period. 

To my children, 

I am sorry that I made poor choices and put you in harms way and that I was not 'plugged in' at a time when you needed me to be. 

It was wrong.

In the future I will do better. I will do more listening and be less defensive. I will be open and honest with you. I will endeavour to 'get over myself' and move on and be a better person. I will love you.

Will you forgive me?

coming down off the pedestal

I'm going to look after you the way you looked after Gramma. Hearing those words (reading the text, actually) reminded me again of the perception that everyone has. What an awesome daughter I was, how lucky my Mom was, how fortunate she was to have me. I'm being portrayed as a saint, someone who put herself last and gave so much of herself.

The truth is that as much as I loved my Mom, and love her I did, I was impatient and short with her, often irritated with her shortcomings, and frustrated with being her caretaker. In the last five years of her life I was on a short fuse that cost me my marriage, my relationship with my siblings, and my own self respect. I was angry and felt sorry for myself. I felt as though everyone else was living their life and I had no control over mine. It was like one day my life is in front of me and the next I couldn't see any life. I couldn't leave and I didn't want to stay. I wanted everyone else to do their share but I was compelled to do more than mine. I was angry with her for having smoked and the first to defend her for smoking at a time when no one knew any better. As she aged she seemed to get more insecure and cry about her childhood and I admonished her for reliving the past, asked her why couldn't she just be happy. If she could be happy then I wouldn't have to be responsible for her happiness. I didn't realize the digression to her past and her sadness was the dementia creeping in. I can't imagine what it would be like to have lost eleven siblings, their spouses, your parents, your husband, and one child. And I remember thinking, I want my Mom back. As though it was all about me.

They say the hardest part of being put on a pedestal is falling off. For me, the hardest part is being there at all. The right thing to do is to climb down and to forgive myself for being the imperfect daughter that I was. I know she had. I loved her so much and every day I told her that. But I wish that I had been more patient, loving, and kind. I lost track of what life should be about not the least of which is the joy of giving back and who better to give back to. Doing my part in looking after Mom was part of the journey, not the obstacle I sometimes felt it was. If I could turn back time I would ask her questions and then I would sit back and listen. And even now if I listen hard enough, I can hear her say, it's going to be okay.

Happy Birthday, Shelly

Shelly, I hope that you experience everything you hope for in the next year and more. You are bright, considerate, thoughtful, warm-hearted, creative, sensible, humorous, sincere, and just plain wonderful.
Happy Birthday, Shelly. I love you.
2014

To My Girl and My Boy

The first time I thought of you
My heart filled with wonder
The first time I felt you
My heart filled with joy
The first time I saw you
My heart was lost to you forever

Letting Go

As I write this I acknowledge to myself that having lived my life introverted and emotionally controlled, putting this out there is a risky proposition. The emotion and feelings have always been there but showing the world anything other than the strong, confident me has always been difficult. Historically I have internalized emotional pain and found it difficult to share or let anyone too close. Six years ago I wrote something that would probably surprise some of my family and most of my friends:

"I messed up. I made poor choices and it affected my kids. It was a long time ago but you know how sometimes you just can't seem to get beyond something and it goes round and round and you are hard on yourself but you keep trying to get past it but it has become a part of you and it affects your life and your relationships and you want to make it stop but you can't because it keeps popping up just when you think you can beat it and move on and intellectually you know it's up to you and no one else can do it for you and so you keep trying and just when you think you might be getting there you get slapped in the face and you come right back to where you always end up only now you start to feel sorry for yourself which is somehow better than the guilt because now there's nothing you can do and it's not your fault and you can just be sad which keeps you out of the game until you get mad and self righteous and end up doing and saying things that you don't mean and before you know it the guilt sets back in."

Today I honour my Mom and my children. From my Mom I inherited the strength (but also the control). To this day my Mom can cry when she thinks back to her childhood and the hunger, violence, and shame. She still feels insecure, controls her emotions, but cries easily. Yet she has a strength that has carried her through the death of her parents, all of her siblings, her husband, and a child. 

From my children I learned to give love freely and unconditionally. They have taught me much more I think, than I have taught them, and I continue to learn from them. I honour them for breaking free, for gaining the strength but also the ability to be in the world on their own terms, sharing their feelings, thoughts, emotions, and beliefs. For showing their children (current and future) that it is not only okay to put yourself out there, it is emotionally healthy. And I thank them for loving me, the good and the bad.

Welcome to the Family

Welcome to the Family

Hello, Everyone.

For those of you who may not know me, I am Cathy, one of Gord's sisters. I've been asked to give the Welcome to the Family speech and while it gives me great pleasure to formally welcome Ferne, I have to say that she has been part of our family from the moment Gord was fortunate enough to reconnect with her four years ago.

While we all know that no one is perfect, there's no arguing that the two of you are perfect for each other. Gord, not only have you found the woman of your dreams, you have also found one that has taught you the value of a good pair of shoes. Many shoes. And the joy of shopping. For shoes. Especially Barbie Shoes. And who else would appreciate seeing you dance naked in the morning? Or the satin dragon robe we've all heard so much about? What did you call it? The Ninja robe? I was thinking more of a Geisha rob myself.

Seriously though, together you have fun and laugh a lot. That combined with talking and listening, helping and supporting, love and patience, learning to forgive, making the important things matter and letting go of the rest, is what makes your relationship and will make your marriage successful.

Ferne, you have an amazing family and from the very beginning, all of you have welcomed us and made us feel at home, sometimes on very short notice. An indicator of the welcoming spirit of your family is how wonderfully you treated Mom on her visits to Saskatoon where everyone pitched in to keep her company or take her out for lunch or even just to get her hair done. All of this with no expectation of anything in return. If Family is an experience that teaches us the value of relationships in life, the Malkowich family has learned this lesson well. Shirley, Fred, Ferne, Jasmine, Jayde, Julia - thank you.

The word Family embodies so much and has so many feelings and emotions associated with it: love, friendship, dreams fulfilled, troubles shared, and emotional, physical, and spiritual support. This is what we offer you as we formally welcome you into our family.

If Mom was here today she would say there was never anyone good enough for her son. Until there was.

Welcome to our family, Ferne. We love you.

To My Son

March 28, 2014

It seems like yesterday that you were born on a rainy Wed, 27 minutes after midnight, making your birth day March 28th. And here you are, turning 35.

I see your heart, and I see your soul. I see your kindness, your empathy for others, and your generosity. I see your doubts, your fears, and your mistakes. I see your triumphs, your losses, your sense of humour, your tears. I see your pain, your past, your sadness, and your joy. I see you wanting to change the world, to make a difference. I see you caring for those it seems everyone else has forgotten. I see you wanting to rescue those in need, I see you feeling the injustice, I see your anger, and I see your hope. I see the goodness in you, your patience, and your compassion. I see you waver and I see you stand firm. I see your smile and your frown. I see your childhood, your teen years, your hurt, and I see you cry. I see you listen with an open heart. I see a man who is love and all things good in my heart.

Happy Birth Day, Jesse.

Love Mom

1985, 6th birthday.

1983, trying to fill Uncle Gord's shoes.

1985, grade one.

1982, Halloween.

1980, Saskatoon.

1984, High Level.

1979, walking at 9 months.

1984, kindergarten.

1980, Saskatoon.

1982, High Level.

1983, High Level.

1982, 3rd birthday.

1994, Christmas

Mar 31, 1979, 3 days old.

2008, Montreal.

i miss you dad

Sixteen years ago today I experienced my first broken heart. I miss you every day, Dad. I carry your heart.
I love you.
Shaggyaggy
April 15, 2014 

Happy Birthday, Jo.

April 30, 2014

Wow. I've watched you grow from a sweet and sensitive child into a beautiful, compassionate, intelligent, modest, sensible, honest, emotional, kind, caring woman. I love your sense of humour, your straight forward and practical way of being, and your heart. 

Happy Birthday, Jo. Love you.

Aunty Cathy

August 5, 2004

Jo with Jesse. April 7, 1979

 ps.......I resisted publishing the Heather and Jodie naked in the yard in Bradwell picture.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom

May 10, 2014

Happy Mother's Day to my Mom. I miss you every day. My heart hurts and my soul cries out to you. I have imagined my own children feeling this sorrow and that is when I remember that you would want me to love with abandon, laugh often, live life with the curiosity and wonder of a child, give the gift of and to myself by helping others, dance like no one is watching. Thank you for your love when I didn't deserve it. Thank you for being there anytime I fell. Thank you. I carry your heart. 

Happy Mother's Day to those blessed with a mother who is their best friend who they look to for comfort, advice, support, laughter, and love.

Happy Mother's Day to those who have buried their mother and would give anything to spend one more moment with her.

Happy Mother's Day to the single mother who works so hard to give her children everything, often forgetting to look after herself.

Happy Mother's Day to those estranged from their children. May you forgive yourself and them.

Happy Mother's Day to those who have buried their child and face an unbearable emptiness every day.

Happy Mother's Day to those who don't know where their children are and live every day with dread and hope.

Happy Mother's Day to those who want to be mothers and are not able to experience the joy.

Happy Mother's Day to those who waited too long to make peace with their mother and now it is too late. Forgive yourself. She already had.

Happy Mother's Day to those who choose to love and raise another woman's child as her own.

Happy Mother's Day to those who were abandoned by their mother.

Happy Mother's Day to those with mothers who were (or are) distant and selfish and have never felt a mothers love.Happy Mother's Day to those who realize they messed up and the guilt is overwhelming and they wish they could go back and fix things but don't know how. Every day they look for an opening.

Happy Mother's Day to those whose mothers are sick and don't remember who you are.

Happy Mother's Day to those who give the gift of a child to someone who can't carry their own.

Happy Mother's Day to those whose children have abandoned them, leaving them to wonder if things could have been different.

Happy Mother's Day to those who give up their child so that he or she can have a better life.

May this day bring you peace, love, forgiveness, joy.

Mom and Mark's Mom, Dec 25, 2010

The Other Caregiver

March 27, 2012 at 8:58pm

 

Much has been said about the caregiving that Mark and I provided to Mom since she moved to Calgary in late 2002. I appreciate the kudos and tributes given that, over time (as any caregiver knows) there is a physical, mental, social, financial, and emotional price to be paid. Mark in particular is to be commended since he is not one of the six children my Mom raised, but rather a son-in-law who went above and beyond. On the flip side, the benefits are overwhelmingly positive and I am without a doubt incredibly fortunate to have been able to be there for my Mom and I feel good knowing it was by choice.

Yes, I was the primary caregiver. I took the calls in the middle of the night. I spent hours at the hospital. I called Mom every day. I took her to appointments, did her shopping, wrapped her presents. I brought her home for holidays. I dealt with all of her medical and financial issues. I did this while working full time and juggling priorities.

But there was another caregiver in the background. She has the type of job where any time missed is unpaid. She generally spent a minimum of three to four hours every week with Mom during which she took her shopping, played cards with her, took over for me at the hospital whenever possible, ferried her to doctor appointments, picked up and delivered Mom's friend for visits, helped me shop for Mom, and was my confidant when everything was overwhelming. So, kudos Lynne, here's to you. Don't ever think that you were less important in Mom's life. You were there for Mom and you provided emotional support. If Mark and I were the rocks in her garden, you were the plants. In the grand scheme, both are vital and we all (you, me, Mark, and Mom) benefited.

For my Brother, A Wish and a Prayer

April 8, 2011 at 8:21pm

 

I am so thankful that we said I love you at the end of each conversation we had.

You are still here in my heart and mind and I promise you that through us you will live. You will laugh and love, sing and dance, feel joy and laughter. You will forever be in our lives, you will forever be a brother, a son, an uncle, a husband, a grampa, and a friend.

May your spirit soar in freedom, may you find peace, and may your tender heart be warm. 
May you let go the need for strength as you listen to the sweet sound of the angels, and never shed another tear.

I will wear your memory proudly, my brother and true friend. I might cry or smile, but at the end of the day, I am one day closer to you.

I love you, Dean.

Happy Birthday, Gord (2014)

What a difference a few years can make. I'm not sure just when you grew up but grow up you did. You have a beautiful heart and spirit that occasionally lurks behind a facade of macho arrogance. You can no longer fool us. We've seen your love for family, felt your sincerity, heard your laughter, and enjoyed your play-full-ness. You have stolen the hearts of the young, and the old. You are my brother, and my friend.

I love you, G.

C.

Happy Birthday, Mark.

May 2, 2014
 
More than anything else on your birthday,
I want you to be happy.
You are the warm, caring, giving kind of friend
who truly deserves happiness...
not just on your birthday,
but through a lifetime of beautiful tomorrows.

Happy Birthday, Mark.

I love you,

C

Happy Birthday Bert!

Happy Birthday (Bert) Roberta

May 13, 2014

It seems like it's happened in the blink of an eye...days have turned to years, conversations have become life stories, and our friendship has become part of us. We've seen our lives change so much from one year to the next. But time has not altered our friendship. We've shared fourty years of laughter and could spend hours and hours 'remembering when'...parties, having babies, lost loved ones, tears, teenagers, weddings, laughter, sorrow, love, love lost, love found........and grandchildren!
Happy birthday to one of my oldest and dearest friends.
Love,C

Beautiful now...

Beautiful then...

Ticket to Hell

I was on a one-way ticket to hell and no one knew it better than my kids.Through no fault of their own they paid for the sins of their parents. Their world turned upside down and they felt responsible for all of it.

My husband and I separated in April 1986. The first night I was on my own with the kids, I drank. I continued to drink for nine years. I drank to drown out the guilt. I drank to drown out the sorrow. I drank to drown out the regret and the pain. I drank out of anger, and I drank out of fear.  

I am intentionally leaving out any part of what was going on in my life prior to leaving my husband or the years and relationships after. This is not about why I drank or why I made poor choices but rather being honest about the choices I made regardless of why. This is not about sharing the blame with my husband or any other person. This is about taking responsibility for my actions and for the damage to my children. 

I was your typical closet drinker. I worked every day, sometimes two jobs. But every night I had one or two drinks. One of my drinks was the equivalent to three. I drove drunk. I drove drunk with my kids in the car. I made poor choices and those choices compounded and I found myself lost in a world of pain with two children stuggling to cope, each in their own way.

I saw my son go from a sweet gentle soul to being angry and distant. When I realized he was doing drugs I thought I would be his buddy and smoke a joint with him. One Friday or Saturday night I let him and his friends have a party at the house while I went on a date with a friends brother. After all, his sister had been able to have a party and I couldn't have him feeling like he was less important. While I was busy going to the neighbourhood bar, he was out stealing cars. Totally unbeknownst to me of course, I had my own problems to deal with. One night I felt very righteous when I called the police from the neighbourhood bar because there was a gang right outside the doors and they had weapons. I knew my son was out and about and I didn't want him in any danger. He was 15.

I saw my daughter change from being a responsible, caring, and gregarious child to a hard working teenager full of anger with me and feeling responsible for her father's happiness. She saw what was happening with her brother and no doubt felt more like a parent than her mom. She blamed me for all of it and she had every right. I remember her calling me one evening when she was 16 because she had run out of gas and I had to go and help her and I was angry because I had already had my two drinks. A direct result of her anguish resulted in poor choices of her own and her only solace was that she loved school and her teachers and horses.

All of my life I've had family members and friends say wow what a great job you did, your kids turned out awesome, you did good, you should be proud, they should be thankful. Actually, they should be damned proud of themselves. They did good. They turned out awesome in spite of their parents. Did we love them? More than words can say and at some level they knew that but at a time when they needed a soft place to fall they felt alone and afraid.

I know that my choices caused my children pain and sadness and distance from each other. If I could have one wish, it would be that they forgive each other. Not because either of them did wrong but because neither of them did wrong.