Thursday, 30 July 2015
Things I'm thankful for tonight.
Feeling better. Not a hundred percent but much better.
Hugs from the big guy.
Knowing he has my back.
Working really hard at letting go of control, expectations and judgments.
Waterfalls. I just love waterfalls. Not just how they look but how they sound as well.
The smile on my granddaughter's face when she sees me.
Sunshine and a walk in the river valley after work.
Saw an eagle today in the river valley.
A home cooked meal tonight.
Two good books in a row.
Air conditioning. It's getting hot again.
The big guy's smile and his laugh.
What are you thankful for today?
Monday, 27 July 2015
What does depression look like? Not so different really. My eyes may be reddened from crying and I probably move slower than I normally do. Fewer smiles and the ones that I do manage don't make it to my eyes but just sit on my lips. I still cook, still do the laundry, still get up and go to work. It's the inside that is so different.
What does depression feel like? It feels like I'm dead inside. Like there is a huge sadness sitting on my face, right below my eyes. I can feel how heavy it is. My whole body feels heavy, hard to move, the world reduced to slow motion. My brain can't focus, misses things, just doesn't work. I want to sleep or cry, or both. But I don't. I just keep on doing everything. It feels like all hope is gone.
And I feel ashamed. Ashamed that I can't cope with things. Ashamed that I cry in public. Ashamed that I went home sick from work. Ashamed that my brain betrays me.
I know it will pass. I know that there is hope, that there is life, that there is good and wonderful things but right now, today, the world is dark and gray and dead.
Sunday, 26 July 2015
Tuesday, 21 July 2015
Things I'm thankful for tonight.
It rained last night.
One of the my young lymphoma patients was in today for a scan. She was diagnosed the day before her baby girl was born. Her little girl is 3 1/2 months old now and cute as a button. Both are doing well.
A walk in the river valley after work.
Full staff at work today.
The renovations at the big guy's house are coming along. Painting is almost finished. Just floors and countertops.
A dishwasher; it's running now as I sit and type.
Talked to my daughter this evening and she's doing well.
A good book, "A Widow For One Year" by John Irving.
My bed. I'm beat tonight. Looking so forward to laying my head down on my pillow and closing my eyes.
What are you thankful for tonight?
Sunday, 19 July 2015
I'm worried about my son. His girlfriend broke up with him just before he graduated. He had an accident with her car and now owes his father money because he borrowed money from his father to pay is ex girlfriend for the damage. He found a job in his field, business finance, and then was "let go" by his boss because his criminal record was more extensive than she knew.
What I imagine is that my son was lying to his girlfriend and she found out. I also imagine that he was not completely truthful during his interview about his criminal past and he was found out. And so it goes. My son is a habitual liar. He lies for many reasons: to make others happy, to make himself look good, to avoid consequences, mostly out of habit I think.
So now he sits at home, no job, no girlfriend, no money. But he did go to Kelowna for a couple of weeks to party with a friend. And he did go out with all his buddies for the closing party of the bar he has worked at for the last five years. He ignores my texts and phone calls. He texts me in the middle of the night when I can only assume he's been drinking to tell me the world is not made for people like him. I told him that he needs to get a job, any job, to pay the bills but he didn't like that answer because then he wouldn't be available to go to job interviews. When I asked him if he has had any job interviews he said no.
I am worried that he will kill himself in a moment of depression but I am also worried that he will slip back into dealing drugs as an easy way to make money. His girlfriend was his anchor in mainstream society. She was smart and getting her Masters at university. He needs to find an anchor within himself and I don't know how to help him. He's supposed to come for supper tonight but I'm guessing he will bail on that. Because who wants uncomfortable conversations with people who make you look at yourself honestly?
My heart aches for him but for myself as well. I feel like I failed him. I was unable to teach him to love himself, to care for himself, to be resilient. I sadly was never taught those things by my parents, nor were they taught by their parents either. It is a vicious cycle this lousy parenting. The gift that keeps on giving, generation after generation. I'm trying to be a better parent now but it feels like too little, too late. I don't want to watch my son, my firstborn baby, let his life go down the drain. He's a grown man now, not my baby anymore and all I can do is give him information, show him that there are alternatives and pray that he changes. The hardest part for me, and the big guy will laugh when he reads this, is the giving up of control, not that I ever really had any, but giving up the illusion that I ever had any control over my children. They are people, children of the universe, mine for a short time and now it's up to them to sort things out. I love him and I guess that's the most I can really do which is hard to write because I so want to fix things for him.
Tuesday, 14 July 2015
I painted my granddaughter's bedroom last night. As I painted, I could hear everyone else in the house, the big guy, his daughter, her husband, my granddaughter. I could hear voices, laughter, babbling. I could hear a family. It was lovely. I'd forgotten how much I miss having my family around.
My granddaughter has started nodding when she sees us. She looks so dignified as she nods her head. It seems as if she is saying Namaste. I wonder if babies see the divine more clearly than we do.
Saturday, 11 July 2015
There are fires burning across the province and the skies are hazy this morning, the smell of smoke hangs in the air. I can still hear the magpies talking to each other through the open windows, giving each other hell or encouragement; I'm not sure which.
My baby granddaughter is doing well, much happier since teeth have stopped erupting in her mouth, for the time being. She twinkles. The other night she fell asleep in my arms, exhausted from the heat. The big guy and I spend a lot of time now in Sherwood Park, helping to get the house ready for his daughter and her family to move in.
Last weekend Katie had a giant meltdown at Fort Edmonton Park. She loves wagon rides and we took her on the wagon. Life was good. She was happy. We had lunch and she said she wanted another ride. It wasn't busy, there were no other people on the wagon so we thought why not? Katie was happy, happy, happy; very excited, clapping, squealing and then in a split second she spilled over into overexcited and then boom, upset. She screamed, cried, slapped her head, banged her teeth with her hands, arched her back, shook her legs. It went on and on, or so it seemed. We cut short the ride, all the wagon drivers know Katie, and we had to physically carry her off the wagon. She wouldn't stand, continued to scream, throw her head around, slap herself. I put on my "fuck off" face to keep onlookers away and we went someplace quiet for her to calm down, which she did and then she started up again. So we left.
We think she just go overexcited. I'm so thankful the big guy was me because I couldn't have managed her otherwise. He's 6'5" and 250lbs and he had a hard time holding her in the wagon. I managed to stay calm which was good for me and we were able to calm her. Baby steps.
I spent much of last night going through photos from our trip. Three thousand photos. It's just work at this point and of course I'm very critical of my photos. I always think, I could have done that better. Of course I can only shoot what I see on that day, nothing more. So I take a deep breath and remind myself how lucky I am to live in such a beautiful country.
Tuesday, 7 July 2015
Reasons why I want to marry the big guy.
I love him.
I like him.
He makes me laugh.
He farts in bed when I'm sad, just to make me laugh.
He holds me when I cry.
He hugs me every single morning and anytime of the day after that. He is an awesome hugger.
He's smart and interesting and a very deep thinker.
He's stubborn, as stubborn as me.
He's kind and compassionate.
He's all bark and no bite.
I know he will always have my back.
I like living with him, working with him and traveling with him.
He likes my cooking.
The look on his face when his granddaughter sits in his lap.
Watching him hold hands with the cat.
Watching him play tag with the cat.
His big heart.
His old soul.
His bruised and battered heart.
That gentle, scared part of him that he protects so fiercely but which he lets me see.
He worries about me.
I worry about him.
I trust him to tell me the truth, even when I don't like it.
I trust him with my heart.
He accepts me as I am.