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!

I blinked....

I remember this like it was yesterday.

And this like it were the day after.

And here we are today.

13 years of education in her back pocket = Graduation.

A day of dress up & of friends

A day of sunshine and smiles

A day of limo rides and photos

A day of dancing and remembering

A day to feel like a princess and celebrate

Today I blinked and days, moments, flashed before my eyes.

The day I held her for the very fist time

The day I dropped her at Kindergarten and cried

Days in the campground when she could not walk

Laughter and giggles

Slides and Swings

Days of dancing in sheer delight

The days they are a changing. Today marks the first graduation in our home, this is a big deal. It represents change, change as it is supposed to be. Right? Our goal as parents is to love nurture and teach our children how to sucessfully soar. To find their place in this world, to adventure on their own journey. True, but in that sucessfull soaring we will be left behind, and that makes me a little sad. I am excited for what the future may hold for my precious daughter. Travel, education, employment, Love... Today I am a very proud momma, and will celebrate and rejoice my daughter and her accomplishments. Marvel at how far she has come and the delightful young woman she is. Enjoy her friends the laughter and giggles. Tell her I love her give her a hug.

For tomorrow, I will blink yet again, and likely shed a few tears - but not today. Today is for fun & celebrating & in true family fashion a little bit of sillines.

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!

Haiti on my heart.....

As news coverage fades and people return to what was normal for them and try to forget the tragedy that happened in Haiti, my heart swims with the desire to help. For fear of sounding like a broken record... Haiti NEEDS our help.. will NEED our help for years if not decades to come. We in North America are in a position to help in a powerful way and likely not feel the pinch of it, and you know what, so what if we do feel a little pinch, sometimes feeling the hurt, suffering and tragedy of others makes us better because of that experience. Remember our little "pinch" is nothing in comparison.

I am blessed with a wide circle of friends and acquaintances people who have crossed my path, walked a while, or are still trudging with me in this journey called life. Amazing people with stories to tell, hearts that want to help and creative ways to make that happen.

Natasha, a friend and former employee at Remember Me was part of a "FlashMob" Dance at a local mall last week - done for fun as well as in hopes to raise $$$ to send to Haiti. Check out You Tube here to see the dance, but also to be counted as a viewer. They are hoping to have corporate sponsorship match dollar for dollar the number of views the video receives. It will only take a few minutes of your time and is fun to watch.

Another friend Jacki has asked me to help on another amazing adventure - Saturday Feb 20 & Sunday Feb 21 - a container truck will be located at Coquitlam Center to collect diapers, formula, powdered baby food etc to send to Haiti. They have a sponsor to cover the $10,000 shipping costs, connections in the Dominican Republic who will get the goods to orphanages in Haiti where help is desperately needed. For more information see the Facebook Events page that has been set up, Tricities Helping Haiti's Babies. We are hoping to fill the 40 foot trailer (also donated) in those 2 days and have it shipped ASAP. The Facebook events page lists specific items being accepted.

Just two more little ways we can help that honestly will not pinch us too much.

On a happy note, our friends who have been awaiting their arrival of 2 Haitian boys are pinching themselves to make sure they are not living in a dream. After 4.5 long years of waiting, piles and piles of paperwork, trips to visit, sad goodbyes the boys are safe in their arms. They arrived this past week in Ottawa, where Jen and Travis flew to meet their plane and welcome them to Canada. This is just the beginning of the journey for this family, please continue to pray as they adjust to life together, it is all new and though they ecstatic to have the boys here with them, the reality is the boys come from a different culture, have seen things that many of us can not even imagine and are now in an environment that is totally foreign to them..... the journey will be long but one filled with hope and tons of love.

It is good to know that some good can come out of such tragedy... 2 small boys in the arms of their new mamma and daddy or those of us who have been challenged to give and who are blessed in knowing that even just a little bit we have been able to be a part of something much bigger than our normal narrow everyday lives.