You are stronger than you think 

22 Mar

 

I have always loved that expression that you are stronger than you think. It  has always made me feel so hopeful and I am all about being hopeful. Over the last couple of days, I have witnessed the truth behind this statement and it is comforting.

Over the last 35 years, I have witnessed so much – I have seen love blossom and then fall apart, I have seen friends die, mothers celebrating love after a birth, mothers struggling with the loss of a child, children losing their parents, children being bullied, a diagnosis of disease of a loved one, friend losing their parents, heartbreak, deciet, revenge, anger, beauty, I have seen life being so unfair to so many families struggling to survive, I have seen poverty,  I have seen abuse, I have heard words so damaging, it’s a wonder people can go on. I have had difficult conversations. I have seen so much pain and suffering in this world and yet I still believe there is so much good in it. That there is so much beauty left. And it hit me, I feel this way because it is true. We truly are stronger than we think. 

There is a fine balance between what keeps us here and what can potentially destroy us. This occurred to me as I was reflecting back on conversations that I have had recently about life. We are all struggling with different things, yet they all resort back to love. Love is everything, both good and bad. Love is what keeps you strong and breaks you down. Without love, the world would be hopeless. Without love, there would be no gain and also no pain. This truth came to me as I had a dicussion about death with a friend. There really is nothing else that matters in those moments then being with the ones you love. I had a discussion about custody with a friend and her heartache at having to share her children, yet love conquers the need for her selfishness. We accept heartache all the time, but only in the name of love. 

Next time you feel that you aren’t strong enough to make it through this new phase, remember that you are stronger than you think and you have overcome so much in your years. And then come back to love, with love comes greatness. With love comes power. And with love comes wisdom. ❤️

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She was in somebody’s locket 

9 Mar



I saw this picture on Pinterest today and I fell in love with it. Everything about this picture fills me with wonder and love. It makes me feel like a hopeless romantic. I have been craving to hear the story behind this. 

The caption underneath had my heart fluttering too. “She was in somebody’s locket,” or something along those lines.  Regardless, she, like all of us is loved beyond words by somebody. I wonder if she knew? I wonder if she too felt this same love for someone. I wonder if she ever knew that her face was enough to light up some else’s whole world. That her face was so perfect, that just being able to look at it made someone’s day.

Or was this her locket? If so, who is the one that got the honour of being placed lovingly on the other half? Were they away at war? Did she wear her locket so that he (or she) could remain close to her heart when there was so much distance between them? Did her family approve? His? 

This is a story I want to write. I want to be a part of. It’s a bit of a mystery. Love is a bit of a mystery. We never really know where and how the story ends. Perhaps it is still going. 

Although I am sure the story has changed many times over its lifetime, there will still be that spot that remains for it.  The spot that sits closely to the heart. Where love resides and dreams are dreamed.

If psychics tell the truth, then I’m nailing it

1 Mar

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I went to a psychic party the other night. It is not something I do frequently but it’s always a good time. I don’t know if what she said was the truth, but I do know this – all of my goals are lining up nicely and clearly. Not only were hearts the theme of my reading, but with all of the positive cards that lay before me, I must be nailing it when she says everything indicates “a secure and loving family.”

Yep, that’s everything I am going for and more. I am pretty good at this life thing.

Love, love, love

16 Feb

heart blog

It would be fair to say that I have always been a sensitive person. I remember being a little girl and I would lay in bed at night and ask my mom who she loved most. I would easily accept that she loved my brothers and I equally, and that she loved my dad and our relatives. All of those people were fine, and in my mind, deserved the love she had to offer, it was when I would ask her who she loved more between God and I, that I would get upset. For some reason, I could not accept the fact that God would even be a possibility, that she could equally love him, because she didn’t “know” him. In all of this silly angst I had towards sharing my mom with a stranger, I will never forget her answer. I actually find myself referring to this same answer to this day…

“It’s a different kind of love.”

That sentiment has meant more to me in the last few years than it ever has before. And I say this because I have been told on numerous occasions that I throw that “L” Bomb around like candy. I will admit, I do say I love a lot of things.

I love my children, my husband, siblings, parents, in-laws, nieces and nephews, sunny days, the water, my friends, star gazing, moon watching, singing, dancing, reading, yoga, rain, thunderstorms, tea, lights, my animals, laughing, words, hockey, people, strangers, happiness, life, trees, flowers, candy, I used to love beer before I accepted my gluten allergy, poutine, summer, snow, driving, books, writing, driving standard, nature, helping others, swimming, my kids laughter, smiling, my yoga peeps. The list goes on.

I used to find that I would work really hard at trying not to say how much I loved something, in fear that others would reject my sincerity when I told them I loved them. Being so sensitive, I didn’t want anyone to think that my declaration of love was a joke. I do in fact love everyone I have ever said ‘I love you’ to. I actually think it would be fair to say that I love most people. It wasn’t until recently that I realized hiding my ultimate love of life is a stupid thing to do. I really, truly, sincerely love so much stuff. I have found room in my life to love, and I have discovered that it is this love for almost everything and everyone that has my life feeling so full. That has me so happy. No one person is exempt from pain or suffering, we are all part of this path together. I have felt so lucky to have started a pretty remarkable journey to self discovery at a very young age. I learned that people just seem to appear in your life for reasons not always known. I have learned that you can love people just for who they are and that there is no need for anyone to compete with that love. I have learned that just because you were in love with someone once, doesn’t mean it will last forever, but that love is still okay to hold in your heart, because it is a different kind of love. I have learned that jealousy really doesn’t get you anywhere, and really, it is unnecessary. I have learned that love is not something that should be saved for one person, or one time in your life. I do believe that love should be respected and nurtured, so it can continue to grow for each other, but also for others.  Love is a gift that should be shared, experienced, and given. As I always tell my kids, everyone deserves to be loved. I hope they remember that too. Because it’s true, and as far as I can see, there is more than enough to go around. That is, once you discover that love is different in every situation and with every person you meet. And just in case you weren’t aware:

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  • Although I can not take credit for taking the photos used on this blog, I can take credit for the Google search.

Spread the love

10 Feb

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There are days when I look at my kids and they completely and utterly amaze me. Today, I am in love with the notion that my son wanted to spread the love to everyone that passes by our house.
This is a movement I can get behind.

Full moon emergency

4 Feb

I was in the emergency room last night dealing with a pretty serious infection. As with most parents, my opportunity to go happened after the kids were in bed and my parents, God love them, were able to come over.
When we arrived it was extremely busy. In fact, I had never seen it like that before. As a natural people watcher, I began to take in the scene. What I noticed was an increase in mental health emergencies, one in particular that really stood out. Not only to myself, but to everyone in the waiting room. To be honest, it broke my heart. I was close to tears a number of times because I could only think of two things:
1. This is somebody’s baby.
2. Is this how we treat our mental health patients?
The guy, either younger, or not much older than myself was clearly in a manic state. Instead of beating himself up over the voices in his head in the waiting room, he would go into the bathroom, which are directly off the waiting room and very open, and throw himself against the wall. Asking whoever else he was struggling with to leave him alone.
My heart broke.
Not only was he so distraught, but there were many people in the waiting room that weren’t very empathetic towards the situation.
I am generally a pretty sensitive person so things far less tragic than this cause a lot of upset for me. But tonight, I sat there for hours waiting for him to be seen.
By the time i had been seen and treated, I had been there for hours. I went back to the waiting area and he was still there. Waiting.
I watched him get up and walk out into the freezing night.
No more than 2 minutes later they came for him to be seen.
When my husband arrived with the car, I told him how sad I was that they missed him. And how I hoped that somehow he would find himself back there tonight. I even expressed concern over how those with mental health issues are seen. I would bet that if someone had of connected with him once or twice within those few hours and let him know he was getting closer to be seen, that he may have stayed. Especially when they saw what distress he was in.
I also think that those with mental health deserve their own triage and medical professionals. Mental health is no joke. We need to start taking it a little bit more seriously. No one wants to be there. No one wants their kids to be there. We need to find more efficient ways to help these people. It affects way more of us than we can imagine. I am tired of hearing that people are crazy and do even crazier things. If they are coming for help to quiet the voices, the least we can do is pay attention.

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Photo credit to my moon app

Back in the saddle

28 Jan

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I had made myself believe that I should take a break from blogging. So I did, and I missed it terribly. In fact, I missed it so much, I started working on other people’s blogs (only this time for money). So after months of writing blogs in my head, I decided to get back into the groove – so here goes nothing.

I have another reason for blogging and it’s purely selfish – it is an amazing documentation of the lives of my kids. Which to be honest, was one of the reasons I stopped blogging originally. I felt that perhaps I was giving away too much of them to the world. Parts of me decided I wanted to keep them to myself for a bit. Hoard their growth so maybe it would stop for a bit. But it hasn’t stopped them from growing and it hasn’t made letting them grow change in any way. In fact, after a lot of contemplation, I decided that it is my way to freeze all the little bits of time I find myself forgetting. I have journaled most days for years. I love writing – I always have. But as I sat writing one night, I realized that those words may not ever be read – I always write in cursive, which unfortunately, is a thing of the past. So in my attempts to remind myself, and my children of the love we shared as a family, I will continue to share their lives. They are two lives that make me so happy. Two lives that make me so proud.

After all, the only way to be a writer is to write.