musts

Having coffee each morning is a must. I am completely addicted to that first cup of coffee. My day doesn’t truly begin until I push the button to start my coffee maker, until I hear the whir of beans being ground, and I froth the milk in my mug to begin the process of making a cappuccino.

We have a lot of musts in life. Coffee is one of mine. Another is attempting some quiet in the morning. That will be a much easier thing to fulfill now that school is on hiatus. A clean bathroom, kids’ hair combed before we leave the house and some sort of treat to compliment my coffee (of course) are more musts. Another must that has been developed over the last twenty years or so has been commitment to a journey. The journey of self-discovery, of moving on or forward, of exploring something new, of letting go…there is always a journey to be had as tired as I can get of that word it’s one of the best words to describe what we do. We – being humans. I have yet to meet a person that doesn't keep going. We try something new. We unearth what brings us life. We find where we fit. We don’t give up too easily. Not without a fight.

I wonder what it is that compels us to keep going. Is it simply in our nature? Is it the hope…the promise of something better? Is it boredom? Is it something outside ourselves that draws us forward…some kind of wish fulfillment…a thrill to seek…the desire for change. Do we continually evolve wanting to make ourselves better people? Truer versions of ourselves? The more we journey the more ourselves we become or is it that we keep changing and we have to catch up with ourselves to resolve that change? To reconcile ourselves to the change until we understand it, therefore making ourselves more complete?

Have I lost you yet?

Another must. Questions. I can’t seem to stop asking.

I have talked about the journey a lot here. It’s an understatement, I know. The journey is a must for me because it’s about the search, the hunt. Like some animal instinct I have to go after whatever could be within my grasp and, like a human, go after something that is just beyond it.







In altar boyz
A whole bunch of us went to see this Off Broadway show that came to Vancouver. It’s playing at the Arts Club Theatre in Granville Island. I LOVED it! This is how it’s described on their website.

Watch out 'N Sync, the Altar Boyz are coming to town! Matthew, Mark, Luke, Juan, and Abraham-the gefilte fish out of water-can sing and dance with the best of them, and these heartthrobs want to praise the Lord with funk and rhyme. With lyrics like "Girl, you make me wanna wait" and "Jesus called me on my cell phone" this irreverent (but never mean-spirited) musical-comedy will wash your soul clean with laughter.

It’s very, very funny and completely worth spending the money on. These guys put on a great show.

lost in time

I can get very lost in my own world and, don’t tell anyone, but I really like it. Like when I get completely and wholly absorbed in a book that I can barely tear myself away from. I do because I have to, but I am counting down the minutes until I get to pick up that book again. I tune out the responsibilities that aren’t immediate and I tack a list to the back of my mind that I’ll get to later. I like being out of touch with the rest of the world for a while. I like being disconnected. Just me and my bubble. Until, of course, I have to break it to address the panic at the back of my mind. I can’t live in a bubble forever.

I wonder if more of us could use some disconnect from the outside just for a little while to regroup and remember what it’s like to spend time with ourselves. To be good to our mental health. I used to go for walks often. I would walk for the sake of being alone, to notice how the light fell through the trees and to breathe. Feel the sun on my face. Feel the earth beneath my feet (sort of). To get lost in a moment or an hour and let the routine slide away. Over the last two years walking has become too task oriented. It’s about the destination and I’ve forgotten about the light through the trees.

It’s not about hiding or shirking responsibility, but about taking comfort in my thoughts, scattered or otherwise, and my aloneness. There’s not much of a bubble to be had when you’re pulled every which way, but I can still carve out a space for myself where it doesn’t have to be filled with the next thing to do. There can just be time without knowing how to spend it.





In those damn Twilight books
I told myself I was not going to jump on the Twilight bandwagon. I thought, No, not me. It’s not going to happen to me. And then Quesnel happened and Scott’s aunt had every book in the series and I could borrow them if I wanted to. Well, I started reading Saturday night after the wedding we attended and it’s what…Thursday now and I’m halfway through the final book, Breaking Dawn (which I’m not feelin’ by the way). I’m a little embarrassed that I fell so hard so fast. I wasn’t going to be one of the many, many women that got hooked on books about a vampire and a teenage girl, but I did. So, I’m reluctantly, head hung low swept up in these damn books.

a day for fathers

We’re going away for the weekend to a far away land in BC called Quesnel. Scott’s cousin is getting married and it’s an eight hour drive to the wedding, so going away for the weekend goes without saying. I’m packing coloring books, crayons and Leapsters and already cringing at how many times I’ll have to hear “Are we there yet?”

Before we leave I want to say something about Sunday, the day of celebrating fathers. Something to mark the day for fathers who often get lost in the wake of mother’s day. I want to honor the fathers in my life.

I was told my dad used to cradle me in his arms and carry me around in the middle of the night to lull me to sleep. I liked to be near him. There’s evidence of this found in photos of us sitting side by side. He would crawl around on all fours and take me and my brothers for rides. He played street hockey with us, but he never said I love you. In my late teens I would tell him, I love you and there was never a, I love you too.

My very first I love you from my dad came when I was 23 in a hospital bed hovering between life and death. He shared this beautiful story of when I was brand new to the world. He told me how he had dedicated me to God and said, “She is yours first and mine second”. He told me this story in his well worn German broken with the language that wasn’t second nature to him, English. I relished every word and every emotion I could detect because it was rare and I wasn’t sure when his heart would open like this again. He said he prayed knowing he had already given me up to God when I was just a baby and wondered if God was going to make good on the dedication. He said God gave you back to us. He said, “I love you, Heidi.”

My dad is a quiet and complicated man. He is generous and he is, I believe, one of those tortured souls. Nobody can make me angry like my dad can, but I love him.

******

When Annie came into our lives Scott immediately took to Annie and her to him like two halves of a whole. She was a daddy’s girl as soon as she was born. They would lay together her new scrunched up face buried in the crook of his arm as he would try to get her to sleep and give me some relief. Nobody lights up Annie like Scott. Annie has never had a stuffy she has to sleep with. She never had much use for a pacifier. Scott is her security blanket. Her world turns when her daddy is at the center.

Benjamin is a lot like Scott with his blue eyes and his laidback approach to life. Ben is gentle, mischievous, and is rarely without a wide smile across his face. Nobody makes me laugh like Ben. His humor is his dad’s humor. Ben’s love for me is inherited too. The way they take the sting out of a bad day and the way they look at me like they can see right through me…nothing makes me feel like I’m made of steel or melts me the way they do.

As I grew up and broke away from my family to make my own family I came to understand my parents in a way I couldn’t before, but I also ended one legacy to make way for a new one – one where fathers talk to their daughters, one where I love yous are readily available and one where fear doesn’t build walls between you and the ones you love the most.

Flaws, quirks and all I want to honor my dad today and all dads where I love yous came later in life. I think I’m here and I’m doing as well as I am because of my father’s early prayers and his heart, while not always open, is steadfastly here…always present.

And to Scott: I’m so glad we’re navigating parenthood together. Annie and Ben are anchored because of you. Before Ben was born I felt that he would be God’s grace to me and that promise is being fulfilled. Scott, you are grace to me too.



















I took these photos of all things blooming in my yard in early May.

Annie and Ben as we're headed out the door to Annie's ballet recital.

click

You know how you think you’re one way and through restlessness, exploration and hitting the nail on the head you discover you’re another way? One of those really?? kind of realizations that you’re surprised by and another piece of the puzzle clicks into place. I like when that happens. It’s like you win, but you’re the only contestant and the prize is a better sense of self. You have nothing to show for it, but you can hold your head a little higher and feel a little less crazy.

I’m a bit of a, I think; therefore I am sort of person. I enjoy people and the energy of a room full of people. I enjoy long conversations over a cup of coffee or glasses of wine, but I refuel being alone. I take up residence in my head before I can come out and play again. Do you know what this makes me? An introvert. Maybe this comes as a so what to you. But, to me, this was a mini revelation. Not a full blown, there are fireworks, I’m in a fetal position crying on the floor sort of revelation, but a firecracker of revelation. I am an introvert. I would have never identified myself as one. I talk a lot. I love being around people. I love plans. I love going out. I don’t even mind small talk. I’m not all that smart. (I tend to think introverts are super smart.)

I’m not a big fan of labels. Nerd, jock, prep and rebel circa Breakfast Club. I don’t do those or any others. I don’t want to be red or blue or a romantic with a stubborn streak and a twist of neuroses. But, this just helps. Like hand smack to forehead. A mini firecracker revelation. And get this. I don’t have to be highly intelligent to be an introvert.

I don’t want to be hemmed in or tied down. I don’t want someone to tell me who I am or what I’m not. I want to buck the system and break the rules. But, sometimes, when a piece of the puzzle fits and fills in the picture it clicks. It makes sense, so you make sense.







In June
It’s been a gorgeous month here and it’s drawing to a close with Sports Day and recitals and end of school year parties. Tulips and irises have come and gone. Now it’s the next round of flowers blooming in my yard. There are roses everywhere, poppies that are finishing up and other things which I can’t identify. The previous owner had a very green thumb. It’s been fun seeing her handiwork over these last few months. Every week something new crops up. Next post I’ll have more photos up. For now, I just have this one of Annie at Sports Day participating in a crab walk race.

miss you...love you...be back soon

I’ve been preparing this little talk I’m going to give this week; hence, I’ve been neglecting blogs all over the place – yours and mine. I had an interview and got a job a few days ago! I start at the end of next week. Scott went away on business (it’s me and the kids for six days! Insert three year old Ben gasping here when his sister told him that’s how long daddy would be away for) and the sun has been robbing me of every spare minute I have. I’m also babysitting the yard, moving the sprinkler around, so our new grass gets water. This has nothing to do with anything, but every morning just before 7am there is a cat that runs back and forth across the roof of my house just over my bedroom and I sorta hate it. I think it’s a cat. Maybe it’s a squirrel. Whatever it is, it is making me crazy. It’s been a busy week, y’all.

So, I’m here to say I’m sorry and I’ll be back in the blogosphere when I can be. Now, I have to move lawn chairs out of the way, get my kids breakfast, and wait for the bakery to open so I can get my much needed treat to go with a coffee the size of my head.







In UP
Scott and I saw this with the kids last weekend and loved it! I actually teared up a couple of times. You get me every time, Pixar. Every time.

markers

I think much of our lives can be summed up in hindsight. I look back and I’m reminded of where I’ve come from. It adds to the big picture. It becomes a part of my future.

I can be quick to bury the past and move on. I don’t do Facebook or high school reunions. I don’t want to catch up on the last twenty years and then say, “Let’s go out for coffee sometime”, when you never will. That doesn’t mean I’m not thrilled to run into someone I haven’t seen for ages or get an email from a long lost high school friend. I’m just a like to live here and now and wonder what’s next kinda girl.

I’m learning to honor my past by the lessons I’ve learned and the baby steps I’ve taken. Leaps of faith, crossing milestones and broken patterns have made my present secure. My failures and victories give me a strong foundation – a foundation I can stand on and go from. Rather than wipe away my past and start over I’ll take it with me, plant another marker along a row dotted with earlier markers and shrines dedicated to living, walk into a brilliant future where I’ll remember that I’ve already achieved the impossible a few times and I can damn well do it again.







In Crescent Beach
Scott and I ditched the kids (thank you Val, my mother in law, and Caitlin, my niece), went out for dinner and went for a walk at Crescent Beach. I found this lovely photo of Crescent Beach at Google Images taken by Omar Branine.