Category Archives: life

Sometimes I forget to breathe

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forgetmenot

For those who saw my blog post on Tuesday, you’ll know that my mom passed away last Friday.

My mom was such a big part of my day-to-day life.  I find myself staring into space thinking about the precious time I had her in my life and those moments ahead that will feel so empty without her.  In those moments of recollection and sadness, my whole world seems to stop and sometimes I forget to breathe.  A large gasp of air pulls me from my reverie and I spend a few minutes just concentrating on inhaling and exhaling.  My world has changed.

I have received some lovely messages from family, friends in my physical world and friends in my writing world that have been very comforting.  Some of those messages offer hope from the perspective from those who have experienced the same loss and some messages offer condolences filled with grief for the thought of losing a mom.

I don’t think I will ever stop crying.   The moments that tears overwhelm me may become fewer and further in between, but the tears will never become non-existent.  And I’m sure as time moves forward I will just have to keep telling myself – one breath at a time, one day at a time.

Forget Me Not

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After my first breath I was placed in her loving arms and it was there I would always find the most comfort.  She was the first one to hold my tiny hand in hers and the first one to calm me as I cried.  She gave me life and now the only thing I can do is celebrate her life.  My mom passed away on March 7th, 2014.  I thought words would flood my brain to help release the pain of losing her but none would come until now.

forgetmenot

You left us in the early hours,

so peacefully your spirit would roam.

Through a gentle wind and the rising sun,

He called to take you home.

A ladder was built for your journey to light,

each rung meant to make you content.

While bathed in the glowing light of rebirth,

you gracefully began your ascent.

Loving arms awaited  you there,

curling you into their embrace.

Heaven welcomed an angel back home,

 rejoicing her love and her grace.

You leave behind your spirit and joy,

in those who loved you each day.

While our days will be saddened by the emptiness we feel,

we know we will see you someday.

~

Jane Eleanore Nairn – May 21, 1940 – March 7, 2014

Questions that beg the question

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People are nosy.  No, let me rephrase in a more eloquent way – people are inquisitive by nature.  No, I was right the first time, people are nosy.

I’m sure every single person on this revolving planet has a few people in their life who ask the most unprovoked and personal questions that are really none of their business.  It takes us off guard when it happens, but we do our best to maintain some composure before responding.  It never ceases to amaze me that people feel so compelled to ask for information that is quite obviously not for public consumption.  If it were, we would not repress the desire to shout it from the nearest rooftop.

What aberration of human nature makes people so interested in obtaining information that has no relevance to them whatsoever?  It is reminiscent of being back in school and being able to boast “I know something you don’t know”.  Clearly, if they were supposed to know,  they would.

My friends and I have had the same discussion on several occasions and it is a subject that we deliberate on at great length.  I’m sure I’ve been guilty of being nosy as well, I’m not presenting myself as unblemished, but I’ve also learned to recognize that part of myself and stop asking questions that are quite obviously beyond my security clearance.

I have also experienced the opposite side of that fence and had people impose questions on me that were outwardly challenging and highly personal.  Before gaining the upper hand that I now possess I would stumble, quite inarticulately, searching for a response.  Now, without losing the eye contact they seem so boldly willing to hold, I simply ask “Why do you want to know?”.    Color drains from their face more rapidly than a sun sinks into the horizon.  They are suddenly and unwittingly speechless.   They feverishly work to find a suitable retort that will explain their abandonment of common decency and their attempt to invade my personal privacy.  Most times my question abruptly ends the interrogation.

A phrase so simple, yet so effective will put them on the defence and put you back on the offence.  Stand your ground – you don’t have to tell them any more than you want them to know.

Lonely Boy – 100 Word Challenge

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We always find each other.  In each lifetime, on each plain of existence we come together again.  Our lives converge and our eyes meet.  We know we are two old souls being reunited and, with each meeting, the feelings become more intense.

But our timing is never perfect.  Each time fate brings us together the black keys on the piano play that melancholic refrain of longing.  It’s too late.  We both ignored the yearning from the past and forgot to wait.  But you are forever a part of my soul.

You are the lonely boy I carry in my heart.

~~

Written for the 100-Word Song Challenge at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.  The song is Lonely Boy by The Black Keys.  (I even managed to get the band name in the story as well!!)

The wall remains the same – Trifecta Challenge

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My desires lay buried under a shroud of mistrust.

My resolve, firm.

Hidden feelings will be anchored there.

Not even the strongest of wills can worm the truth from me.

The walls remain.

~~

Written for this week’s Trifecta Challenge: Now on to the weekly challenge.  Remember, we’re now looking for exactly 33 words.
Good luck and happy writing!

WORM (transitive verb)

1a :  to proceed or make (one’s way) insidiously or deviously<worm their way into positions of power     — Bill Franzen>
 b :  to insinuate or introduce (oneself) by devious or subtle means
 c :  to cause to move or proceed in or as if in the manner of a worm
2 :  to wind rope or yarn spirally round and between the strands of (a cable or rope) before serving

– See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.UzfsT4Xh.dpuf

If it’s broke, stop trying to fix it

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“Each relationship nurtures a strength or a weakness within you.” ~ Michael Murdock

Have you ever had that moment?  The moment when you hear a quote and it sums up an entire period of time in your life that you had yet to define?  I just had a moment very reminiscent of that.

My marriage was a great learning tool in the school of my life.  I do not hold any ill-will towards my ex-husband but there were moments early in the marriage that I knew our relationship could be the recipe for disaster.  I allowed myself to ignore those blatant warning signs, took the wrong turn and careened along the highway of our marriage at full speed.  The bumps in the road got worse as the journey continued.  Soon, I couldn’t even navigate the straight stretches of the journey without getting dizzy.  It was then I realized I was on the wrong road.

Everything about our time together nurtured my weaknesses.  It became easier, as time went on, to not confront those weaknesses and keep some peace in the house.  After several months of pulling in my head and playing “turtle” I began to realize some very important things, not only about him but, about myself.

After spending a lifetime trying to “fix” the broken people in my life, I succumbed to the fact that I couldn’t fix them.  My ex-husband and the roller coaster of our marriage made me realize that.  This relationship which flagrantly displayed my weakness in the past now nurtured my personal strength.  When I finally awakened to that reality, once that awareness had seeped into my brain, my resolve was filled with a growing sense of power.

I took that power and changed my situation, and my life.  That relationship which initially nurtured my weakness came full circle and devoted its influence to my strength.  I would never have fully appreciated that strength had I not been weak at that fork in the road.

Juggling the balls of justice – Trifecta Challenge

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The prosecutor stifled his laughter.

“Did you, or did you not state, Mrs. Bobbitt, that you would go free because the evidence would not, um, stand up in court?”

She was not amused.

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

~~

Written for this week’s Trifecta Challenge – I’m really not sure why I chose Lorena Bobbitt and the misfortune of her husband’s manhood, but I did!  I apologize to all of the guys crossing their legs right now.

On now to our quick and dirty Trifextra prompt.  Plenty of times over the past two and a half years, we’ve given you the beginning of a story and asked for you to complete it.  This time, we are giving you the end, and we are asking you to start it for us.  We want 33 words in addition to and preceding the following:

That wasn’t what I meant.

So, to clarify, you write 33 words and then you tag on the five that we’ve given you.  Our five come after your 33 for a grand total of 38.

I’m a Raggedy Ann in a Barbie Doll world

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I have never been a slave to fashion trends, apart from those few unfortunate years in high school when big hair and “preppy” collars were all the rage.  Wanting to fit in as a teenager led to unfortunate wardrobe choices and spectacular photographic evidence that seems to keep reappearing.  Even the fires of Hell could not burn those outfits from my memory.  (Somehow I think the pictures and the negatives would survive incineration as well.)

80While the above image was taken from sweirt.com and does not do my teenage wardrobe any justice, I’m sure you get the general idea.  Nothing says 80’s fashion like big hair, neon and leg warmers!

After leaving high school and finding myself in the “real” world, I came to the realization that I could care less about fashion.  I was happier slipping on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and sliding my feet into some loose-fitting sandals.  While the girls around me spent hours teasing their hair, applying make-up and picking just the right outfit, I would be dressed and ready to go and waiting for them to emerge from their cosmetic cocoon as a beautiful painted butterfly.  I admired their dedication, I just didn’t understand their obsession.  Give me a tube of mascara and some lip gloss and I’m set.

I’m sure there were moments in my impressionable years that I wished I was more like a Barbie Doll.  Now that I can look at my life from an adult perspective I realize the world needs Raggedy Ann’s as much as it needs Barbie Dolls and I’m happy to be one of those Ann’s.

You better run – 100 word song

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You came unannounced.  You stealthily crept into my head and strategically built your wall in the darkest confines where I couldn’t see you.  Like a thief, you stole my ideas.  You banished any character from entering my thought process and you murdered my will to write.

But I’m on to you.  I’ve seen the ugliness in your soul.  Your darkness is no match for the light that words provide.  My will to create is much stronger than your effort to suppress my creativity.

I enter each day more prepared than the next.  If I see you again, you better run.

~~

Written for the 100-Word-Song challenge at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.   This week’s song – You Better Run by Pat Benatar.

From the Horse’s Mouth, literally

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Today was a creatively inspiring day.  Today I went from not having any neurons firing in my brain to a cosmic overload of things I want to talk about.

On Friday I wrote a post about my first crush.  It was a Daily Prompt that inspired me to write a cute, truth-based story in response to the idea.  I haven’t thought about that adorable, freckled-faced red-head for many years but writing that post made me smile thinking about him.  The story also encouraged me to check the vast world-wide web to see if he would appear in real form instead of just the memory of a six-year-old.  The result of my search was successful and way beyond my expectations.  It also took me in a few directions I had not anticipated.

I had reached out to him on LinkedIn and found that he graciously accepted my invitation, perhaps out of morbid curiosity, but he accepted nonetheless.  We exchanged a few words and he inquired about the blog post that led me to him.  I acquiesced and sent him the link.  His initial response after reading it was more favorable that I imagined and I was curious to see where his life had led him after our brief time together in school so many years ago.

The object of my youthful affection is a now a documentary filmmaker in Toronto.  He has won several awards for his talent, including two Juno awards, and is now working on a project that is far closer to my life than I would have thought possible.  His company is called Regular Horse Productions (he was formerly with Horse’s Mouth Media) and he is currently making a film about Massey Hall, a significant Canadian structure, a piece of history that MY ancestors donated to the city of Toronto in 1894.  My middle name is that same family name and carries on the tradition of the historic family that is etched into the arts and entertainment district of one of the most popular cities in the world.

I have yet to discover the direction that his documentary will follow but I will be waiting with bated breath to see how my family history will come to life.  I have three original Chatelaine magazines from June to August of 1964 that document and detail the pilgrimage and the ancestral tree of the Massey family dating back to 1531.  Perhaps one day Andy and I will share a coffee and some conversation about my ancestors that will help shed some light on how that beloved plot of land was donated so many years ago and still thrives in Toronto today.

And to think, this random connection almost forty years later began with a school-girl crush and a lost bunny……who knew?