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Back to Business as Usual.

I’ll admit, I’m still torn as to whether I should keep on blogging about Walt Disney World or go back to life as we used to know it here at TD365.  So what I’m thinking is this;  I’ll write about what I feel like writing about.  Cause, well…  that’s what I’ve done for the last few years here.  LOL  Why change it now.  😉  That doesn’t mean I’m done writing about Disney, it just means I’m going back to writing however my muse pulls me.  Sound good?

Now, I think I’m going to cuddle my sleeping girl for a bit.  Watch a little streaming TV with her Daddy.  Then tuck myself into bed for the night.  I’m missing Bran tonight.  He would have commented on my last post…  and written to me on FB today.  I have a feeling my one FB post would have prompted a good laugh between the two of us.  Losing a much loved friend really freakin’ sucks.  😦

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Seek no more

On Thursday, February 28th I felt a sudden need to light a candle and to send love out into the universe.  I didn’t know why I needed to, I just knew that I had to.  So at 4:30 I let my daughter choose a candle and we lit it together.  Shortly after that things became all to clear.

Bran Everseeking, who was known to some as Thomas Dunbar, was a treasured friend.  At 4:15 his wife, Naomi, had posted to FB that he was having a heart attack.  It wasn’t until later that evening I would learn of it…  after seeing another post she made at 6:04.  Bran had left this world for the next.  Gratefully I didn’t learn the news until after Lily-Ann had gone to sleep as with it came a slurry of tears.  It honestly felt like some cruel joke.

The last couple of days have been absolutely draining, and I really have no words – which is why this post is more dry facts than anything else.  I’m simply trying to relay information without breaking down again.  For now all I can share are images, something I believe Bran (as a fellow photographer) would appreciate.

The candle I lit at about 4:30 on Thursday, burned until 4:54 Saturday morning.  I know this, because the change in light woke me from a troubled sleep and I saw the last ember go out.

Goodnight my dear, dear friend.  Know that love follows you from this life into the next.  Seek no more.

Alive.

Quiet like the dawn crashing upon the rocky shore of darkness.

Full of noise, full of life.  A roar of silence.

Too loud to speak.

Self-aware.

In all things I am.

I exist.  Sentient.

Feeling, knowing, being.  Thunderous.  Mute.

Heaving towards stillness, the permanent precipice, the denouement.

Beauty in knowing acceptance.  Birthing terminus.

The rocky shore of darkness as the light creeps quietly away.

Waiting to be reborn.

Me, spewing my bad poetry on an unsuspecting readership.  😉  It had to be done.  Sorry all.  Just one of those days/nights.

Natalia: Oct 1-15, 2012

Losing Natalia today was harder on me than I’d expected.  The last few days she balanced that tightrope between life and death so closely, we knew there was a good chance she’d pass…  but with her finally starting to gain weight, I had hoped that perhaps we were turning a corner.

Damon and I came home for a feeding at about 2:00, by 2:30 we made the choice not to tube her.  She was almost gone, and we didn’t want to put her through it.  We took turns holding her against our chests – keeping her warm and close.  At 3:21, right before we had to leave to pick up kid kid from school, she passed.  Damon passed her to me, and I held her until he had gone to the school and brought Lily-Ann home so we could all say goodbye.

We honestly thought that perhaps we’d turned that all important corner with her…  that the tube feedings every two hours, the warm water enemas, the warm baths, vitamin drops, colic cures, all the intensive care and extra attention had given her what she needed…  but it clear she was ready to go.  She fought long and hard, but was just too tired to keep on trying.  I keep reminding myself that 30% of all puppies don’t make it – but it’s little comfort.  I am grateful we have four healthy strong boys to love and care for.  But it doesn’t temper the sting of losing Natalia.

Natalia on October 8th @ 2.3 ounces. Being bottlefed by Damon - who worked so hard for her.

Natalia on October 8th @ 2.3 ounces.
Being bottlefed by Damon – who worked so hard for her.

Natalia on October 15th @ 2.7 ounces. Rest in peace sweet little girl, we will see you again.

Natalia on October 15th @ 2.7 ounces.
Rest in peace sweet little girl, we will see you again.

 

 

Mrs. Morin – always a beacon of love and strength.

Life has a tendency to throw a curve ball every so often, just to keep you on your toes.  Some you catch, and return…  others knock you on your ass.  This one?  This one hit me harder than I’d have expected.

A friend just shared the news that a woman I loved and respected has passed from this life.  I knew she was sick, but I hadn’t seen her in years.  I only ever knew her as the bright, intelligent, caring Mom to the Morin clan.

I have so many wonderful memories of Maryjo.  She peppered my teen years with kindness and laughter, an ever present nurturing figure that I (and so many others) could count on.  Mom to four boys, I remember her rescuing me from her eldest who had stuffed me in his hockey bag one afternoon.  I remember the look she gave him as she made sure the others helped me out of that stink sack.

I would have been fifteen or sixteen at the time, and he was a few years older than me – and delighted in the fact that I was so pocket sized.  At the time there were no girls in the family other than Maryjo, so the boys tended to treat me more like a brother – which is something she always felt the need to apologize for (though it didn’t bother me).  I’d like to think those experiences helped prepare them for the sister who would come later, and whom they had learned to be much gentler to thanks to Maryjo’s no nonsense brand of loving discipline.

Maryjo always grinned and gave me a knowing look when the guys would call me idget (because I was “too small to be a midget”).  They always treated me like one of their own…  a middle sister.  And I always felt so at home with them all and Mrs. Morin was a big part of that.

As tears dry on my cheeks after the news of her passing, I take comfort in knowing she found her way home.  I’d like to think that she is again that woman – healthy, vibrant, full of spark – that I remember from all those years ago.  Pain free, and rejoicing in all the blessings she has known.

My heart goes out to the Morin family.  I can only imagine the feelings they must be coping with as they experience her loss.  Maryjo was the hub of their home.  You knew wherever she was you would find compassion, joy, laughter and tenderness.  I will always hold her in my heart – a heart full of gratitude for all she gave me.  She will be remembered with fondness, love, and appreciation.

Momma Morin and all her boyz

Momma Morin and her boyz (hope they don’t mind that I nabbed this off fb). The clan as I remember them from my early teen years – a little older, a little hairier, but the same old faces I loved so much.

 

There are certain times when a meet-up is mandatory.

There are certain times, when a person is delivering a certain type of news, when an in person visit should be mandatory.  Sometimes a phone call, text, or FB status update just aren’t appropriate ways to deliver tidings.  In those situations, lunch, coffee, or just an in person chat, should be mandatory.

Bad News

  • If you are delivering news of a break up, do it in person.  It’s uncomfortable, so a meal is not necessary.  Just a quick get in, get out, meeting at a coffee shop works.
  • If you are sharing news about a negative diagnosis or any kind of medical issues, do it in person.  A meal in a quiet restaurant, or take out in your dining room is best.  Food and wine always go a long way in situations like these.
  • If a family member or loved one has suffered a tragedy or passed from this life, if at all possible that’s an in person encounter if I’ve ever come across one.  And this news?  There is no way for this to be good.  Do it at home, where you’ll both feel comfortable going to pieces.

Good News

  • If you want to take your relationship to the next level (be it going steady, moving in, getting married, or what-have-you), that’s an in person conversation.  And it can happen in almost any context and end up pleasant.
  • If you sharing news of your nuptials with individuals who mean a lot to you, but who couldn’t be there (whether you eloped, or just had a tiny service, whatever), totally something you do in person.  Invite the other party out to a nice restaurant.  Food and wine are definitely in order.
  • If you’re having a baby, don’t break that news from a distance.  Head out to a nice brunch spot, share something light and yummy, and toast the new bun in your oven with a nice sparkling flavoured water.  Hugs, and potentially happy tears, will be shared!

So don’t let your sister find out from your Twitter feed that you’re pregnant, don’t tell your son over the phone that you had a private service and got married, don’t break up with someone via your blog, and don’t let your granddaughter find out you have three months to live by way of BBM.  There is just some news that is best delivered in person, whether it’s to share a hug, a toast, or a cry…  Certain news simply demands a meet-up.

As the Sparks would say: “Share and Be a Friend”.

I try to forget that it’s Remembrance Day.

On November 11th, every year after 1993, I do my best to forget that it’s Remembrance Day.  It may not seem appreciative, it may be politically incorrect, but it’s what I do to try to cope.  My sister was killed on Remembrance Day in 1993.  She was twelve, I was sixteen.  And in that instant the meaning of the day changed for me.

It was seventeen years ago now.   After that many years, it’s easy to get through the day to day.  After that many years her not being a part of my life is normal.

But on Remembrance Day it’s a whole different story.

One day a year those feelings become fresh, become new, and I experience the loss all over again.  One day a year I remember the annoying kid who drove me up the wall, yet who, at the same time, I loved totally and completely.  One day a year I remember my sister who never got to grow up.

I am so appreciative of all those men, women, and canines who have given so completely of themselves to ensure our freedom and safety. I am so grateful of the sacrifices made in the past, the sacrifices currently being made, and the sacrifices that will be made in the future.  So many amazing individuals giving of themselves in a way most of us can barely comprehend.  For the greater good – an idea, a concept that for so many has very little real and concrete meaning – but for our veterans and soldiers means everything.  Thank you!  To all of you!

Canadians have done amazing things worldwide, I am proud of our peacekeeping efforts.  We are a nation that believes in equality and in inalienable human rights, and our troops have given of themselves to ensure those rights for all people.  So please do not think that my attempts to forget, and ignore the date have anything to do with what Remembrance Day is supposed to be about.  It’s just that, for me and for my family, it is about remembering something entirely different.

It’s about my sister, Regan.

It’s about having someone you love ripped away from you.  It’s about all the things she had yet to do, and had yet to become, all the things she had hoped for.  It’s about the small moments we remember and that we now cling to… because they are all that’s left.

She was only twelve, and now she’s gone.

I will be glad when it’s November 12th, and we’ll have made it through another Remembrance Day.  Because, for a family to move on from something like this, you need to forget.  To cope, to survive, sometimes you just need to forget.

 

Way to go Dr. Coren!

Way to go Dr. Coren!  If your plan was to have your readers crying by page 13, you did it.  Kudos to you!

Jeepers.

LOL

I’m starting to think this book may be a tough one to get through.

It sounded like the truth and only cleaning up after a disease could justify using such awful smelly stuff to wash the floors and walls.  It was then that I finally began to believe that Skipper was really dead. I turned to the bucket with its malodorous disinfectant solution and began to damp mop every surface of the house that I could reach — no other dog was going to die in that house if I could help it.  I cleaned everything so vigorously that I could barely lift my arms at the end of the day.  That night I fell asleep dreaming of God sitting on a white throne, with Skippy curled up next to his foot.  Skipper was still my dog; he hadn’t run away from me because I wasn’t kind to him.  I was sad, but God was a  good person whom I could trust to take care of my dog until I got to be with him again.

Stanley Coren tells the story so many of us dog people already know.  Be it distemper or parvo or a host of other infectious canine diseases…  we all know too well the feelings that accompany washing down your home, feeling the pain of the life lost the fear of further loses and the hope that you have the power to prevent them.  But, on page thirteen, in the words above, that story comes through the eyes of a boy barely old enough for grade school – an experience I can only begin to fathom.

So, wish me luck getting through the rest.  An enjoyable, albeit emotional, read so far.  😉

Page 13 of Born to Bark by Dr. Stanley Coren

A life gone in an instant…

Earlier today I took a really cute little snapshot with my BlackBerry.  The wee girlie took Clifford (her stuffy version of him anyway) to school with her.  They are doing an entire month dedicated to the big red dog, and Emilie Elizabeth is one of her favourite literary characters.  Lily-Ann looked absolutely adorable in her red jacket with her navy blue jumper and tights, carrying Clifford…  bright blue sky behind her.

It was such a pretty moment, so adorable, so sweet.  It was what I’d planned on sharing.  But plans change.

Today my little sister’s bus driver ran over an 11 year old boy – while my sister and several other special needs adults were on the bus.  The boy died at the scene.  In an instant a young life was brutally cut short, an entire family is now left to mourn.  School children watched, as did my sister and her co-workers.  Lives forever altered in a moment as brief as any other.  That fast, and everything changes.

Please, tonight, hold your children close.  Tell them how much they mean to you, and how much better your life is because of them.  Read them a story, sing them a song, do a craft together…  just be with them.  Be present for them.  Be actively involved in as many parts of their lives as you can be.  Because all it takes is a moment to have it all ripped away.

My heart is with the family of that boy, and all those (including my sister) who’s lives have been affected by his tragic death.  Tonight an entire city mourns.

Nana has passed on…

Nana left this life yesterday afternoon, shortly after lunch.  My only hope is that she found whatever she needed from this life.  She was much loved, and will continue to be so.

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