No excuses.... no looking back..... just going to post.

It is said that with good friends, you can simply pick up where you left off and go from there. No questions, no excuses, no regrets, no worries, no guilt.   Well that is how I am feeling about my blog, I am just going to pick up and go forward, no should have, could have, or would haves.  (well maybe just a tiny bit of guilt - but I can deal with that).  It is time to sit down with a good cup of java and write on.
 
This morning while sipping my coffee I was truly moved to tears for the 3rd blog entry in a row, by this....

It is so worth the time to read...

http://hopefullearning.wordpress.com/2013/07/23/mom-and-daughter-speak-for-the-first-time-beyond-hello-day-3/

Who says that ONE person or ONE group can not change the world?  It is possible, and it is happening in one of the reportedly worst neighbourhoods in Canada.  Listen to your heart.  How are YOU going to change the world? (How am I? - Know that anytime I ask those sorts of questions I ask them of myself too.)

ONE amazing story. ONE woman following her passion .  ONE Down Town East Side (DTES) resident's world has been changed FOREVER.  ONE daughter many, many, many kilometers away has had her world changed too.  Kristi - the blog writer touches the deep corners of my very core and rises to the surface memories of days gone by.

This story resonates with me deeply and I am transported back.... 

ONE day many, many, many days gone by.
ONE little girl sits on her dad's knee looking at family photos. 
ONE finger pointed
ONE face she did not recognize.
ONE question; WHO is that?
ONE Father struggling with an answer
ONE old wound opened
ONE  journey that led to the DTES
ONE long lost father reunited with his son
ONE grandfather meets 2 of his granddaughters for the first time
ONE meal shared
ONE memory made
ONE old wound starts to heal....   ONE is a good place to start!

There is power in ONE! So much power. . . . I know that it did for my grandpa, for my dad, for me!  For Cindy, and it can for YOU too!

Remembering March 1st.....

March 1st,  marks what would have been my Grandma's 98 birthday.   98, I can not even imagine what life would be like to be 98.  The world has changed so much in the past 98 years.  One thing I know for certain is that had she still been with us she would have adapted, tried new things, laughed as she said, I am too old for this and above all she would have LOVED watching her great grand children grow up.   As a child I knew beyond measure that I was loved by her, and when my girls came along  I KNEW that she adored them, nothing made her happier than a visit with her Greats! 

Oh how I miss her, certainly time has lessened the ache, as we have learned to do life with out her. The old adage "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" is certainly true, especially on this day,  Her birthday!  I always remember even after 14 March 1st's, without her.  So today, I pulled out the scrapbook I did for her memorial, and remembered all that she meant to me.  Sure there were a few tears,  but mostly my heart is full of gratitude for all her life meant to me.  For all she taught me.  Ultimately for the gift of laughter, the ability to laugh at one's self, and to enjoy a good joke or prank here and there.  She will always be remembered with a happy heart, for I know that is how she would want to be remembered, with a smile in our hearts and laughter on our lips.

Gram, I miss you, I love you, and today I remember with a huge smile in my heart.  Blessed beyond measure because I had the privilege that is shared by only 10 others in this whole entire world, the privilege of calling YOU Grandma! 

5 min... really?

There are a lot of things that can be completed in 5 min.

Sweep a floor

Read a picture book to a preschooler

Clean a toilet

Phone the doctor to make an appointment

Put in a load of laundry

Make a good cup of coffee

Write a thank you note

Write a cheque

Listen to phone messages

Decide what to make for dinner

Make a phone call to a friend

Take out the trash

Answer an email

Read a short magazine article

Make a bed

Water a plant

Dust a shelf

Catch up on a favorite blog

Put on hand cream

Checking Facebook status' (or update) wait, who are we fooling, no one can go on facebook for just 5 min.

However one does not expect to wait 5 min at one of these......

Last night we found out that you can indeed wait at an intersection for a light to change for 5 min. Yup, we timed it (that is the sort of fun we have in our house on a Sunday evening!)

This is an intersection close to our house, a very common route for us to drive, me more so during the day, Royd in the evening. During the day it changes quite regularly however, Royd has noticed is quite slow on the change, especially later on in the evening. So last night at 11:40 pm, when we arrived at the intersection, he pulled out his watch and timed it. ... one min, two min, which is about how long Royd thought the change took on a slow night. Three min, at 4 min I remembered that I had the small camera in my purse and took a picture. Not too sure why I did not take one of the clock on the dashboard, oh well. At about 4.5 min a bus pulled in behind us. We thought about jumping out of the van and asking the bus driver if he does this route often and if he has noticed that this particular light is extremely slow in changing at this hour. At the moment we were discussing this option, the light in the opposite direction turned yellow... 5 min. We got the green arrow and go. Now we are wondering, if the bus had not pulled up how long we really would have been waiting. My guess is tops 20 min, that is how often the buses run!

Oh, I could walk home from that intersection in just over 5 min!

No where near 40 days and 40 nights.....

However it is likely around 40 seconds that saved us from a minor not so natural disaster. Whew, timing really is everything. No harm done, and oddly enough it caused gales of laughter, well maybe that is not so odd around here!

Teryn and I were watching a "My Life in Ruins" as Ashlynn was doing dishes. Distracted because she had never seen the movie, she was standing in the living room watching as the kitchen sink filled with water. A fair bit of time passed as she stood there, all of a sudden it dawned on me, hmm I hear water running and all bodies home are in this room. I yelped.... "UM... the water is running who is in there" Which snapped Ashlynn out of her dazed distraction with a dash to the kitchen that could have broken world records, to rescue the kitchen from flooding. The soap bubbles, were not quite at the Brady Bunch legendary laundry episode level, but very close to spilling onto the floor. The water less than a cm from the rim of the sink. Whew, one not so natural avoided.

This is what brought the gales of laughter

Then this, poor unsuspecting soul, still very much distracted by the movie......

Yup, pretty much a typical day around here.

The Story of the dress...

I had heard HORROR stories about grad & the costs. Dress, shoes, hair, nails, makeup, limo, photos, flowers, jewelry, dinner tickets, the list could go on and on, oh my! Some spoke of 1000's of $$$$ - YIKES - there is no way we could do that, not even close, nor do I see the need for such spending. However as a parent you do not want your child to be gypped, and honestly, you want them to feel a little spoiled, or at least I did. Graduation is a big deal, a major accomplishment and it deserves to be celebrated well. So I budgeted, tried to save, and in the end was very surprised, and very proud of my daughter for the decisions that she made. We came in under budget WAY under - As in our total was less than I had though we might have to spend for a dress. WHEW, one down 2 to go, but now I know it can be done, and done well, and I must add without conflict or drama.

Right from the beginning Ashlynn stated that she wanted to have a vintage dress, she had her heart set on it. Preferably a 50 / 60's era short we looked online to get an idea of what she wanted so I could actually be of some use in the stores. We set out one day in the middle of the Olympics and hit EVERY vintage, second hand store outside of the downtown core (excluding VV been there done that OFTEN already) saw some "possibilities" but nothing that screamed take me home.. wear me to grad. Several take me homes, but not for grad. Disappointed we headed home. Knowing that with vintage shopping they get new things weekly and the selection changes quickly, also knowing that when you see something you like you should buy it then and there because even if you come back the next day it could be gone. The key to vintage shopping, know what you want, do not settle and be willing to go back over and over. Sort of hard when you are on a time line. Day one, we learned that some vintage locations are far better than others, but then that could just be luck of the draw on that particular day.

On our second day out we decided to go back to the favorite of the favorites - Deluxe Junk, a Hilstad haunt from way back, Royd's sisters often took him there years ago when they were shopping together. Just to see if one of the "potentials" from the first trip happened to be there, sadly it was gone. However there were several other options, so the trying on began (I did not have her permission to take photo's there...sometimes the mamaratzi has to give into the wishes of teens) when she slipped on the 3rd dress of the day we all knew it was the one. Even the sales clerk said.. "Oh honey that dress is yours!" It fit like it was custom made for her, was in perfect condition and she loved it. Loved the style, loved the bead work, loved the colour. Momma loved the $85.00 price tag! BUT there is one other shop around the corner that she wanted to check out first before making the decision... The "perfect" dress was put on hold for an hour, we walked to the other store looked around tried on a few more that had potential but eventually headed back for the orange dress. WHEW! Done.. it was coming home with us.

While we were checking out, Ashlynn and I were having a discussion about shoes, what does one wear with an orange dress.... not black - too Halloween, white is boring! There is lovely sequin and rhinestone work on the upper bodice of the dress and I was making comment about if we bought silver shoes it would "bring out" the rhinestones... The poor sales clerk only heard the "bring out the rhinestones" part of the conversation and almost had a heart attack because she thought we were talking about taking OUT the rhinestones. She was ready to tell us we could not buy the dress if we were going to rip them out.... I was horrified, the rhinestones are stunning, and it would totally ruin the dress to remove them. I am sure that a great number of items purchased in such stores go home to be altered and changed, in some cases for the better, in this case it would be very sad. (Although it could be shortened and be quite beautiful at 3/4 length instead of floor length) It took a few min to explain we were discussing shoes and what colour etc not about altering the dress. She let out a HUGE sigh of relief when it was all figured out. Then we all laughed about how coming into a conversation part way through can be so

miss- leading, and in the end was happy that the dress was going to a home where it's authenticity would be valued.

Dress $85

Shoes $89

Hair $55

Tickets $90

Princess for a day PRICELESS!

Here we go again...

My dad is in the hospital, YET again. Here we go. . let the fun and games begin. I wonder when it will stop, when it will end. I have no answer for that, no one does. This is dad's second visit this year, and we are not even to the 1/2 way point. His first visit lasted 6 weeks, involved surgery and a steel pin in his hip, DT's, nicotine with drawl, not fun. There were 2 visits last year, with more of the same. There is no-one that can answer the underlying question, how long this time? Is this the beginning of the end? Or is it simply round.. what ever # it is? Will he even come home? Or will we be playing this game for awhile longer? We certainly do not know, the doctors do not know, this is the slow, unpredictable, and painful death that is alcoholism. We were told years ago that it could be quick or it could be slow and painful, there were symptoms, ugly symptoms that would start appearing, they have, they are growing in intensity, and it is as the doctor said ugly. Despite them all he chose to continue down the same path, choosing the easy road, drinking to forget, drinking to avoid living life.

For those of you who know me know that for lack of a better words my relationship with my dad is at best strained. For those of you who do not I will ask you to trust me on that one. For years I held onto hope... hope that one day he would see the light, see that there is life beyond the beer bottle, local bar or 19th hole at the golf course. I guess until the last breath is taken there is always hope, and I will hope that just once he will want to see me, to talk to me, to repair what was broken long ago - hope is all I have. BUT ?

Is it wrong to hope that it is over soon? Is it wrong for a daughter to hope that time will be short for her dad. It sounds so cold, so wrong but I want this roller coaster ride to be over! And sadly it is not because I do not want him to suffer, which I do not, it is a selfish wish, I just want it all to be over, finished for once and all. For the games to stop, for the lies to stop, for the weariness to end. I am tired of wondering when it will end. Just plain tired of it all. Tired of the sorrow I see in my mom's eyes, the evasive answers when I ask her how she is doing, tired of seeing her held back to care for him. Tired of how his choices even now shadow my life.

I know that there are those of you out there that would not even remotely understand those questions, those of you who have great relationships with your fathers, those of you who will feel a hole when they are not here. Those of you who have lost your daddies and wish for just one more moment with them. For you who are in those shoes, you are blessed beyond measure, hold on tight, treasure that! It is a gift of gigantic proportions. I wished, and I dreamed of that for years, but I am not one of those girls.

I will always regret the fact that my dad chose the beer bottle over relationship with his family, that the draw of the drink was a greater draw than his children. I will always regret that, but I refuse to let my life be guided by regret, especially regret that was way way beyond my control. Forgiveness is a gift I gave myself a long time ago. Forgiveness for missed dance recitals, school programs, teacher meetings, promised rides or trips, I let it all go realizing that it was way out of my control. That there was nothing left for me to do to repair that relationship, it is crazy out of my control and only he could make those changes.

The whole thing just makes me sad, that deep in your heart achy kind of sad...sad for what should have been, could have been, what would have been if he made different choices. Yes I want it to end, but mostly I wish it could have been different.

Left on a jet plane....

Royd has flown the coop! No worries, no tears, if all goes according to plan he will return next Sunday morning. However when travelling one has to be flexible so we will see.....

The alarm went off at this morning EARLY (or late depending on your perspective)....

3:10 am!

What a good wife / friend I am. I was the designated driver, to have Royd and 2 others to the airport for 4:30ish AM....Yes that reads AM, and that is when my day started, or was it ending? The jury is out on that one as I really did not sleep much before. Being the night owl that I tend to be sometimes I thought that it would be worse to go to bed early and get up than it would be to stay up. I know many of you out there are groaning, knowing that it would not work that way for you. It has been o.k. I came home and had a Longish (3.5 hour) nap, or a short sleep depending on how you want to look at it. That worked quite quite well, it will not be a regular bed time tonight.... I am off to bed very soon. (and right now it is before 11:00).

Actually I quite enjoy going to the airport and time of day truly does not factor in. I have been known to drive from Vancouver to Seattle with an infant to visit a friend from the East Coast of the USA, who is on layover for a few hours, simply because I had not seen her in a few years and well, it would be a fun adventure. So do not feel too sorry for me I volunteered for the adventure, and would do it again in a heartbeat.

However it is all a little bit odd, there is something wrong with this picture...and it is just starting to sink in, Royd left today for a week in Cuba. On a plane, travelling further than he has ever gone before....without me. Do not get me wrong, it is about time he had the opportunity to go, to spread his wings, to see something new and I am happy he is able to go and truly happy that he is able to to this without me. Not that I would not love to go to Cuba... One day... down the road.... my turn will come. It's just odd, roles have switched.

It is odd being the one to drive away from departure drop off and standing on the curb watching the car drive off. It has never happened in all the years we have been together. It is usually me suitcase in hand, business trips, school trips, excited to be going. This is the first time I have been looking in the rear view mirror to see if they he is in the terminal or if he is waving. (there was no wave!) It felt a little odd, not bad or wrong, just odd. I know that this will be a great adventure and I am so glad he is able to go, however I am a little sad to be left behind, but it is all good. We will have adventures of our own while he is away. It has been a very full day, and one full of adventures for sure, more on that later when my brain is not so foggy from odd sleep patterns of the day.

So here I sit, at home...
The plane should be landing in Cuba in a few hours...
I wonder what the day will hold, if he will remember to put on the sunscreen, if he really did pack a hat? Oh well there is little I can do about that now. I do know that the 374 bracelet kits I made and sent for them to make with the kids they meet are in the suitcases and he has a camera.. I just hope that he actually takes it with him and uses it!
Now I am off to bed and one thing I know for sure is that the alarm will NOT be set for 3:10AM.

ENOUGH already.......

It can end any time...

I have truly had ENOUGH...

Cancer, sucks.

Before I jump into my rant, let me say, so far I am still good. My health is good and my followups have been clear. (so far!) I am thankful, grateful to be sure, but in the back of my brain it always niggles away... will it return? Once you have faced this monster I think you will always have that niggle in the back of your head.

I am tired of hearing yet another person who has touched my life being attacked by this disease. New cases, some after being restored to health, others so young that they have no clue what is going on. Friends who have friends I do not know but hear about because they are dear to someone I care about. Diagnosis' , memorial services, treatment plans, questions because I have been there... It just seems like there is no end. . .

ENOUGH ALREADY!

October, my new little friend Joey was diagnosed with Leukemia, he is 4 years old. His mom a long time friend lost her sister 17 years ago to the ugliness of the disease, now looking at her precious son and reliving it all again.

December - a friend sent me a Facebook message. Di... I have to come to Vancouver for tests at the cancer clinic can we get together for coffee. She stayed here, we laughed, we cried, we talked for a very long time. She now is on round 2 of chemo. Last week her great niece was diagnosed with cancer wrapped around her spine.... she is just over a year. Her Grandma, my friend dealing with her sister and granddaughter fighting 2 forms of this nasty beast. My heart breaks. My own fears are brought to the front of conscious thought.

ENOUGH ALREADY!

Last night was the icing on the cake for me... As I heard a friend who had battled for a long time, had ugly treatments, been separated from her family for long periods of time, far from the comfort of home,who we thought was restored to health, has just been re-diagnosed. The ugly beast has reared it's ugly head, in a different location in her body, this time there seems to be not much they can do. It breaks my heart. She has 2 young children, has dreams to see them graduate, get married, have children, she wants grow old with her husband. She likely will never see those dreams come true. My heart screams.....

ENOUGH ALREADY!

Thankfully we live in a country where treatment for said beast is available where we can visit a doctor, or a cancer clinic and receive treatment, where options are discussed and treatment plans set. At least for Cancer it is so. There is comfort in that, but sometimes not much. I long for the day we hear that a cure has been found.

For another acquaintance, living with Lyme disease this is not the case, 18 years ago we were in the same prenatal class, and she is a dear BFF to a cousin. I regularly read her blog and am humbled... her fight just to be treated here is daily is nothing compared to what I thought were my darkest days. Doctors refuse to treat this life threatening disease, she has been literally fighting for her life for years, then discovers her 2 sons also have Lyme... a disease that is said NOT to exist in Canada and doctors refuse to treat. A disease that attacks at the very core of one's being, disabling, searing pain... not only does she fight with all her might for her self, NOW she has to fight on behalf of her sons as well. It is not an easy fight....

ENOUGH ALREADY!

I read their blogs & caringbridge sites, and all I can do is pray. It seems so little, yet I know that there is so much power in it that I swing from that rope regularly. I hang onto faith - grateful that these friends share that same faith, that they tap into this source of hope and power. Still feeling that it is so little to do, yet it is all important that I do. It is in that faith that there is hope.. hope that cures will be found, systems will be changed, lives will be restored.
Last night I simply prayed ENOUGH ALREADY because no other words were needed to express what my heart was feeling.

Each of these stories have touched my heart deeply, reminding me that our stories, weather good or bad, happy or sad are just that our stories and they need to be told. Need to be shared because those stories are part of my story. Their lives touch and will continue to touch mine, I learn from them, I am humbled by them, I am in awe of God's grace and the strength that each possess in the midst of difficulty. These stories, interlocked, entwinded into my life, my STORY.


If you wish to join me, there is never enough people petitioning the throne of God... here are their stories. Each of them would covet your prayers. If you read them, I am sure their stories will touch your lives, entwine with your own story as we all are touched far too often by cancer.
Joey
Judi
Sandy
Shannon

I will continue to pray because I firmly believe that through Prayer all things are possible and it is truly ENOUGH ALREADY!

I miss her still...

Today I was thinking about posting my top 10 Olympic moments then I noticed the date, March 1st. My Gran would have turned 96 today, had she not passed 12 years ago. The Olympics will have to wait, as my head is full of Gran memories...

12 years
Oh how they have flown by, truly in the blink of an eye. Memories are held much dearer, the tears flow less frequently, but they still sneak up at the oddest times. Like when I open my recipe book cupboard.. It smells like her house. Or sitting in the middle of a theater performance and the actress says or does something - even humorous - that is just like Gran, the flood waters open up! No warning.

Someone once told me that the depth of your love and caring can be measured by the number of tears that you shed. I shed LOTS of tears, my kids tease me often about them - forget the simple eye roll, I get the whole body roll. Oh Canada gets me every time, as do sad stories in books or in movies. Oh well! I make no apology for them at all. They are as much a part of my personality as is my being left handed. There is little I can do or choose to do about them.... I just let them flow. One would think I would always remember to carry tissue, sadly not so much....

12 years
I wonder if she would recognize the girls, now 17, 16 and 14. They are beautiful young women, then they were adorable little girls. Interestingly enough each of them have their own unique memories of Great Grandma P - I love that. Though she is gone she is often talked about. Her zest and love of life, people and places are things I want to instill in my girls. Much of who I am today is because of who she was, and how she viewed life.

12 years
The world is a different place and as much as I would love to spend just one more day with her I would not wish her back to a 96 year old body or life in a nursing home. I am thankful for the life she lived and she lived it well. I am thankful for the time I had, the lessons I gleaned and the laughter we shared. 12 years or 20 I will always have that.

12 years and 12 memories...

My first movie in a real theater was with my Gran. Disney's "Song of the South".

Sleep overs at Grans were met with homemade waffles and milkshakes for breakfast.
(sshh do not tell your mom you had a milkshake for breakfast!)

Trips to the flea market at the drive in theater where she taught me the skill of bartering. She could get anyone to come down to a dime on most items (likely not really, but it seemed like that to me way back then)

She gave me my first camera. My love of all things photo related were encouraged by her, nurtured by hours sitting side by side on her couch looking at all her photo albums.

Trips to Stanley Park, riding the miniature train and going to the Zoo.. yes there really was a zoo at Stanley park. We would mimic the monkeys and avoid the bat cage. (She understood my great fear)

Gran always had our best interest at heart... Each visit usually netted a dollar or 2 with a hushed no go out to the garage and visit with Grandpa and do not tell him I gave you any money.... So off to the garage we would go and Grandpa would hand us a dollar or 2 and pretty much tell us the same thing... Do not tell Gran. Too funny, I am sure they knew what was going on but for me it was a great game. Not to mention profitable.

Never did we make it through a dinner with out the announcement of dessert, often we did not even get our food on our plates before she was telling us to leave room for dessert. It often went like this... Butter Tarts (her signature), Apple Pie, Lemon Pie (my fave), Flapper Pie (my Dad's favorite)and if my uncle was there Raisin pie (eww still makes me cringe!) and there was ALWAYS ice cream just in case no one wanted pie. Dessert was a big deal to Gran.

She taught me how to crochet. She tried to teach me to knit, however my being left handed hindered that in a big way. My 12th birthday gift - my first grandma made afghan is still one of my faves, snuggling under it is like a hug straight from her.

Long road trips (from Vancouver to 100 Mile) stopping at every bus station (we were driving) for snacks (she brought 3 10 gallon pails full of snacks... but never felt like what she packed at the time the bust station came into view) The 4 hour trip must have taken 8.

Hours and hours of singing silly songs at the top of our lungs. Songs about peanuts & rail road tracks or Pickles and nickles... Good times for sure.

One of my all time favorite Gran moments happened at the airport. Gran had been visiting a nephew in Korea for an extended length of time and we were at the airport to pick her up. We waited and waited, we knew the plane had landed, but there was no sign of Gran. We waited and watched the monitor some more, Dad was getting impatient, Mom was getting a little worried. Then I heard laughter that sounded like Gran.. Looking around I did not see her, then I heard my name. There standing not 4 feet from us was Gran... Grey hair and all! Grey, WOW, when she left it was her traditional jet black. She could not get to a hair dresser in Korea so she decided to let the black grow out. She walked right past us at the airport and stood and watched us stew. I laughed even then.

My Gran never met a stranger, each person that crossed her path was a potential friend and a friend was a friend for life. She taught me the value of laughing at yourself - if you can laugh at yourself, when others laugh at you it will not hurt! No one could cook like Gran but I learned a few tricks.

Yes it has been 12 years and I still miss her, I still occasionally shed a tear, but I have memories that will last a life time and for that I will forever be grateful!

Some days just go down in the history books!

I am sure that this Boxing Day will in the future be referred to as the one where mom broke the table with her butt! (oh and thought she broke her finger in a totally different un-related same day miss hap!) Yup one of those stories that will go down in the family history book, one of those you will laugh at this one day moments in life. Maybe one day.. just not today!

Boxing day.. for many means a trip to the mall, or better yet the local electronics mega store to stand in line for hours in the freezing cold to get the latest and greatest gadget or gizmo that will be out of date tomorrow when the new models hit the sales floor.

Not in this house. I do not remember the last time I was shopping on boxing day. At least not since I met Royd some 25 years ago! Royd upholds a tradition that his mom started before she passed of having an open house & serving waffles on boxing day. So in our house it has always been a day of visiting with family and friends. There have been a few years off, but for the most part people know Boxing day = Waffles (with bacon and mushrooms) at the Hilstad's.

This is Royd's party, he whips up one monster batch of "Royd's wonderful waffle" batter, has earned the title of "WAFFLE KING" and from 10 - 2 he mans the hot iron and turns them out for all who come. However today at 9:45 (yes 15 min before people are to start arriving) I was on my way to the mall..... THE FREAKING MALL ON BOXING DAY! I had no choice... there was something we NEEDED and NEEDED NOW - zap straps, A.K.A. cable ties.

Ohi.. what the heck did I NEED cable ties so desperately for you ask.....

To fix my dining room table - keep in mind there are who knows how many people coming in 15 min for waffles for the next 4 hours some years it has been as high as 60 people coming and going. The table is a very useful piece of furniture to have functioning for this event. My very sturdy, heavy, pine table was laying in my living-room, legs up. Yup, broken leg! Very dead, & very unusable due to a very unfortunate meeting with my back end! Yup I cracked the rather large pedestal of my wooden table with my ASS! Only in our house can that claim be made. You would think we had some wild druken brawl. Nope, nothing quite so dramatic, I was simply trying to record this portion of the story of our lives...

I was trying to take a photo of the 'waffle king' in my kitchen & slipped. Who would know that slipping off a chair, knocking the corner of the table first with ones elbow, then posterior could result in the pedestal of the WOOD table to crack from bottom to 2/3 from the top... Any pressure added to the table would further fracture the pedestal causing more damage.

So off I went.. Walmart here I come. Where I must say I was presently surprised, there were a few available parking spots, I went in, picked up the zip ties, through the line, in my car and back home in less than 20 min! I was a woman on a mission. I made it home before anyone arrived, and the zip ties worked like magic once we settled on a system. The table held! Waffles were served with a smile and a slightly bruised back end. Most importantly no damage to the camera at all - whew, I would be heartbroken more over that than the table.

New years resolution.... to loose the caboose, so no more table damage can be done. Not that I plan on dancing on the table or anything... it would just be good to know it would hold me next time I have to change the light bulb above the table. Or I could just be more careful when standing on chairs and taking photos..... (which I will add tomorrow.... )

Sometimes life is not fair....

Tonight (well last night seeings as it is 6 am and I have been up for a couple of hours because I could not sleep so it still feels like last night) I attended a memorial service for a young man I did not know, but a young boy that I did and remember. I am connected closely to his extended family, they are the type of friends that I hope and pray that my girls will have one day. The type of friends that you just pick up the pieces from where you left of on the last visit and move forward forging new memories, the type of friends who know your heart, the type you miss when it has been too long, and when you are together time flies like there is no tomorrow. The type of friend that is closer than most family - these would be the family you CHOOSE for yourself kind of friends.

Tonight my friends were hurting, deep agonizing hurts that all you can do is step beside and give a hug and be there. The type of hurt where words seem shallow and your presence is enough. Though truly a sad occasion, I was blessed to be able to step up beside my friends and just be there, knowing that just by doing that they knew they were loved. To be able to share in grief at this level is hard, there are so many questions, and so few answers but it is the right thing to do. At the core of who we are as humans we need to connect with others, connections that run deeper than the surface, connections that bond hearts so that in the tough times you do not feel alone. I am emotionally spent, but would not trade it for anything. Just knowing that just by being there I was able to encourage my friends was worth the red eyes and soggy tissues. I would do it again in a heart beat, but hope that I do not have to for a very long time.

Sitting at the service my heart broke for the sadness in Tom's dad's eyes, pain that runs deep, questions that are there but not asked, simply put heartbreak at the rawest form. 22 is much to young to die. Heartbreak for the tragic way poor choices can end a life in the blink of an eye. How drugs in today's world are such a draw to young people as a way to escape when there seems to be no other way then they hook them and their lives are never the same. It truly seems un fair! No parent should have to bury a child. I remember thinking that for the first time after my uncle passed looking into the eyes of my dear heartbroken grandma , or 17 years ago when stomach cancer took a friend at the age of 21, then yet again when I watched a friend carry the coffin of her twin infant girls to a very small grave, and last year when I sat in the service remembering the life of a 6 year old. It is grief at it's rawest for sure.

Deep wrenching hurt - the kind that cause people to question God, to question if he exists, or if he cares. The kind of hurt that has people calling out to God even if they never have before because they want some hope, some assurance that somewhere in the universe there is a heaven and that their loved ones will be safe there. The God they may have cursed in the past becomes the life line they desperately cling to. The same God that with time brings comfort and healing to the hurts, will also be the same God who brings renewed joy as they move forward.

I know that life is not fair, I could tell you dozens of persona stories to support that, but life fair or not is life and every day we have a choice... we can either live and learn or complain and conk. I choose to live and learn, allowing myself to grow into a better person. Knowing that one day down the road the lessons I have learned will help someone else. Just like tonight, my friends were hurting and I was able to just be there in support and just loving them where they are at. And it was good!

Bitter Sweet Week....

Bitter sweet....

For 13 years there has been a Hilstad child at our local elementary school. For 13 years I have walked in and out of class rooms, interacted with teachers, driven for field trips, attended assemblies, talent shows, student led conferences and grade 7 leaving ceremonies. 3 of those for my own children. As a family we have sat around the dinner table, talked and often laughed about what has happened at school, discussing homework, class antics, and little buddies. All that changes, this past week marked the last day of Hilstad attendance at Forest Grove as Shanna completed grade 7. My baby is growing up, parts of me are ready to give her wings, the other part wants to hold on forever. I imagine this is the plight of mothers everywhere as our children grow up. Next year all 3 girls will be in the same school for the last time in there public school lives. And so begins another chapter in the story of our lives....

Bitter Sweet. . .

For 25ish years, my sisterfriend Lisa and I have had a solid on and off again relationship. We met when she came from Invermere to Burnaby to attend SFU in the early 80's - she showed up at church one Sunday and we have been dear friends ever since, it was and is a connection that God intended to be. For the past 25ish years she has come and gone, home to Inveremere, to Regina, to Quebec, Pennsylvania, Benin, with visits in between here at the coast. She currently lives and works in Niger, West Africa, one of the poorest countries in the world. We share one of those rare friendships that picks up where we left off and go on from there, sure we keep in touch in between, but those times when we are face to face are special treasures. When she is in town, our door is always open, she comes she stays, she fits right in to our crazy lives. This past week we talked on the phone for likely the last time in 4 years, she is as I type on the journey back to Niger for her next 4 year term. Each moment we can spend talking or visiting face to face is a gift that neither of us take for granted. It is hard to hang up when you know it will be at least 4 years until the next conversation. It is bitter sweet.. I know that she is living out her passion, working where she does, but she takes a small part of my heart with her this sisterfriend of mine.

Life is full of bitter sweet moments, those things that we know must happen, but bring both joy and sadness. Things that come into our lives to strengthen character, build us up, teach or challenge us to be better people. The key is to keep our eyes and hearts open so that we can be taught.

Some people come into our lives and quickly go.

Some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts,

and we are never, ever the same.

~Flavia Weedn,

Ripple affect...

Time flies in the blogging world just as it does in real life. You blink and months pass in what seem like seconds. I am continually amazed at how lives are intertwined, how one thing leads to the next and before you know it things snowball. I started to think about this on April 1st, yes April fools day. I was in bed and Royd came in and said that I HAD to get out of bed and come and watch the news, there was a clip that I had to see and it was all my fault that this was happening on the other side of the world. I obliged and went and waited, thinking what could possibly be my fault on the other side of the world....

You see, some 19 or so years ago a friend and I went on a late night neighbourhood romp with several rolls of Saran Wrap (Toilet paper was passe) and did 3 different cars, one being our pastors. It was great, no one expected us at first... Jump forward 4 or 5 years and said pastor was now living in Australia teaching at a Bible College and we decided that he needed to be "initiated" down under. So we wrote a letter addressed to the college - Attention: youth leader or something like that. Included in that letter was some $$$ and an explanation of "Saran Wrapping Cars" could you please go and do this pastor's car one day.... And they did. Now in 2009 this is what it has become.... WHO KNEW!





Who knows if it could be directly linked back to a simple letter written over a decade ago. But like a rock tossed into a still pond, the ripples reach far and wide. Maybe one friend told 2 people and those 2 people told 2 more... and so on and so on.... then someone who had heard about the crazy fun, thinks hey that would be a great April fools joke, they go ahead and low and behold the original letter writers 1000's of Kilometers away see the news clip. Full circle.... ripples reaching far and wide. Interesting to think how the ripples we make today could come back and affect us years down the road.

Was I kind today? Did I say or do something that made someone laugh, cry, feel loved, cared for? Did I send out good ripples? I sure hope so, I had some very intense, meaningful conversations today, about some life situations that are very very hard, health issues that have to be faced head on despite the deer in the headlight feeling of total shock and fog like reality of the moment. I pray that my words, were able to be a balm to the hurting, that I could ease the burden just a little by telling someone I care and that I will be praying. Even for just a moment in time - give hope.... I hope that I can sit down a decade from now and say remember when and share in the victory of healing and strength, rejoicing, celebrating - that would be a great return on my ripples (and the tears I shed today!)

So excited...

Many would look upon this venture as sheer torture, I however am totally excited. I received a phone call last week from the girls band teacher asking me to consider chaperoning the SR. Band trip. 10 days with 20 - 25 grade 11 & 12 students, who would say no. I imagine that many would, however I am looking forward to this adventure.

Last year the trip to Nelson with the grade 10's was a ton of fun. It was great to see my daughter in her own element, away from home, away from family, see her in action with her friends. To see another side of her.

The fact that this trip is to Europe is a mild tug. Who am I fooling, I am one of those people who would go anywhere in this world if the ticket presented itself. And I am totally excited about the possibility of seeing the sights & sounds of London and Paris. The trip itinerary is jammed packed with all the "must see" things in both of those great cities. I am sure it will be an adventure to remember.

I have to confess that I have longed to see many of the sites of Paris since reading of Nichole's adventures in France. I am looking forward to seeing . . . . .

2 days and counting...

I woke up this morning, thinking 2 more sleeps and mentally making a list of things to do. Royd and I started talking a little about what this week will look like. Shanna is off to Timberline with school for 3 days of camp. I have to figure out driving and such for dance - actually I have it figured, I just have to get email off to the kind people who have offered their services while I am recovering. All the pieces are falling into place and the girls will get to where they need to be when they need to be there. God is so good, he is providing in ways that are beyond what we could ask or think.

Then Royd asked hmm, I wonder if the aunts and uncles know what is going on. There was some discussion about the family grape vine and how little filters down to us, so we assumed that little would be filtered out to others as well. He decided that he would call his dad and ask, then maybe make a few phone calls and fill a few in on what is going on. Interestingly enough I logged on to the computer this morning, check my mail and my facebook messages and have one sitting there from a cousin ......

"3 days to what? I think I have it figured out.... could you confirm."

Bless her heart! I loved that she asked for confirmation and did not assume and lead into conversations that could go so many places when there are no facts. I sent a message back, filled her in, feeling bad that she had not heard. But it is not like I stood on a mountain and shouted for the world to hear. Though I guess sharing on a blog like this is pretty much the same, except that people have to know you are writing then go and read if they so choose. Interestingly enough despite what some family grape vines are like it has been confirmed that with ours, well at least on Royd's side things do not often travel very far it they ever get started in the first place. This also means that they rarely get distorted and grown out of proportion. It is an interesting concept for me where most family conversations with my extended family often started with "did you hear what so and so is doing now...

Once again I am struck by God's timing. Royd asked the question this morning, and within a couple of hours it was answered. He did not leave us wondering for long, and was pretty clear with the answer too. That is just like God - quite simple actually. Too often I think we humans try to make God out to be a difficult entity with a long list of things to get right.... when simply he just wants relationship with us, he wants to care for us and he wants to be part of our lives. I for one will take it - I would not want to be on this journey, facing surgery to have a part of my body removed not knowing what will happen next, with out knowing God and having a simple relationship.

off to work on the lists.......

When did it happen.....

I just had one of those moments - you know the ones when you stop dead in your tracks and wonder when or how did that happen.


The reality of parental roll reversal hit me in the face. . Just like "THEY" say it will! (who ever "THEY" are...) That day our parents begin look to for help and advise the same way we looked to them when we were children or the day our children to do the same! That fateful day when we look in the mirror and see our mothers looking back at us and know that the day is here! Or in my case today when we see a glimpse into our own future of our children caring for us.... YIKES!

I know that for me it has been a graduall process, I have always been told that I look like my mom, so when I look in the mirror and see my mom looking back it is no surprise - I have been expecting her to show up! Just as she expected her mother to show up. . . . I know that for a number of years, I have been "helping" - asking questions that indicate the slow process of the reversal.

For instance, Mom right this moment is basking in the sun in the Carribean, on some luxury ocean liner with 9 of her girlfriends (I am sure the ship will never be the same! Hopefully neither will my Mom.) Before she left, I asked questions like, do you have all our phone numbers, email addresses with you in case of emergency, is your will up to date, where is the banking information, we talked about the "what if's... what if you are delayed, what if you get lost in the Bermuda Triangle.. etc. I made sure she left a copy of her itnerary, that she had sun screen (and told her to wear it!!!) joked about not talking to strangers, and wearing clean underware, and not to take lots of cash with her in her handbag, but to "wear" the extra... just like grandma did (tucked inside her bra!), and always make sure you have your ID with you!~ Like she has never travelled before. When did that happen??? When did I begin to ask these sorts of questions of my mother?



However here is the KICKER - the moment that stopped me dead in my tracks.... tonight Shanna is in the kitchen making cookies, from start to finish from scratch, by herself (my baby is growing up!) She knows that I would rather eat the cookie dough than the baked cookies... and she asks ME if I want to lick the beater.... SMACK! IT hit me, the roll has begun to reverese!

Gone are the days when she would stand tippy toed on the stool beside me as I would mix the cookies and beg to lick the beater! When did that happen?
You blink and they are 12! Learning, brilliant, and determined to do it on her own!

I had hoped that I would have a few years of independent living - before they would begin the process of caring for me, it would seem that in reality it is a gradual process that begins when you are least expecting it. It would apear that it happened overnight! At least I know that they will be there, and I will at the very least be offered the beaters!