One Foot Off The Bed in 2017

I woke up to below freezing temperatures with the aroma of un-perked coffee, freshly ground coffee beans invading my nostrils, a memory of yesterday. I need to get out of bed, use the facilities and get a pot of freshly ground 100% Columbian a brewing..but…I lay on my back staring at the ceiling at 5:30 am, on a Sunday morning. I was making an effort to rise as my left leg hung off the bed, a rustled comforter twisted beside me and my flannel nighty binding me like a bad mummy Halloween costume. Here I lay, 55 years old, somewhat experienced in the trials of life. Nothing could prepare us for our individual journeys, yet so many have walked the same path of bumps and pot holes, just at a different pace, a different day, a different town, different friends and different families. And maybe we met at a crossroad, I don’t recall but there will be times in your company, I get that feeling of deja vu!

Oh well, yet I still lay here at 55 years old and think of my child rearing days. How old or how young was I again? Does the age matter at this point? It did when my home was filled with teenagers, all thinking they knew what was best and how to live a life without getting guidance from an aging parent. But I tried to explain anyway. Hey! I wasn’t born 35, 38 or 42 years old you know!! I was a teenager once upon a time. Just like you, I knew everything, yet little did I realize back then, like you, I knew nothing, but felt everything.

So here I lay, 55 years old, half out of bed, half in the bed, the sound of the freight train rumbling down the tracks on the south part of town and the still faint memory of freshly ground coffee piercing my morning thoughts, edging me ever so closer to the edge of the bed.

Change is eminent, nothing and no one stays the same. Even our selfish ego got tired of life dramatics, deciding to live and let live. My mental complexity, no longer able to absorb toxic relations, anymore than this 55 year old body could win an Olympic sprint but surely making a spectacle as I trip over life’s hurdles. Till I gained enough smarts to ask for assistance and see who would be on the other end of a life hurdle with hands out, always ready like a great friend would be.

But here I lay, nothing really changed since I first crawled into bed at 10 pm last evening. Wait!! Something has changed..it’s a new year!!! I have wakened into a new year!! I made it! Another year older, another year to try and get it right! Maybe I will find a teenager today to gain some insight on how to live a happy life. And laugh I will!! As they begin to guide me..with such innocence, yet with unknowing ignorance of what really lies ahead for them on their journey. Or maybe go visit an aging parent, in a home, sitting in a rocker, looking out the window, waiting for company, waiting for anyone to come visit and break up the long lonesome day. And listen for a while to his or her stories about life. A life lived, in real time…second by second..minute by minute..hour by hour…day by day..month by month…year by year. Yes the true voice of wisdom awaits my ears, an elder. And another voice.. a teenager awaits my ears…

Happy New Year eh!!!

I jump out of bed, both feet on the floor, another year older..another year to get it right….another year to older and we will never pass this way again…life is short, nothing lasts forever but a memory. Get out there and make some great ones!!

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Who, What, Where & When Am I?

And then came you…
We are what we feel. Learning to manage your feeling, understanding them, is one of the “tools” that we can never do without, as we continue on our individual journey, on this earth. Sometimes it takes seeking out a neutral party to learn how to do that, to get those tools of life management. We are alive to learn, to evolve and when we stop doing those things, it can be so easy to become depressed and feel alone. Because we forget that we are never really alone, there is you, yourself and the “I”. Sometimes taking a look inward at YOU can be a scary thing, so we take the easy way and focus on everyone else, everything else instead, never really being happy or experiencing that feeling of contentment. We blame others for our unhappiness, when all we have to do, is ask ourselves, who, what, where, when.
Who are you?
What are you?
Where are you?
When are you happy?
Leaving unhappiness, is not always easy, especially if we have been living there a long time.
One cold winter night,  year 3 of 11 years single, my evening ritual of getting ready to go to bed, took about an hour. I took the long soak in bubbles, with music low, then straightened up the cushions on the sofa, put my tea mug in the sink and once I shut off all the lights, made my way to my bedroom. It was so quiet. I had no neighbors close by, so from outside all I could hear was the winter wind blowing up against the house. I stood at my dresser, brushed the knots out of my hair to tie it up and started to think to myself..
.. is this not where I am suppose to be feeling lonely? In the quiet at night, being single, with no one around? No one to say good night to, or to hear those words being said to me? No one to remind me of tomorrows agenda? There was no one but me. Aren’t I suppose to be lonely after so many nights of this? I stopped brushing my hair, stood there in the complete silence, looked at myself in the mirror, closed my eyes and concentrated on that feeling of, loneliness.. but.. I wasn’t feeling it.. it wasn’t erupting from deep within my heart and soul. I opened my eyes and smiled at the lady in the mirror and said..
I’m okay!
Who am I? I am, me, myself and I !
What am I? I am happy !
Where am I? In a great place in my life !
When am I happy? When ever I chose to be!

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(Alfred Stevens – Woman in front of a mirror (c.1870)

 

 
I made choices, in the best interest of me. And realized that life is not about pleasing everyone else. To be original, we have to please ourselves first. And no one said it was going to be easy, but nothing worth everything, is pain free. We have to endure the pain, to appreciate the healing.
Yes, life on earth is a journey and we have to take our individual paths, over the speed bumps, through the stormy weather. There is no short cuts. There is a quote I read..
“If you go through the tunnel you will come out better on the other end, but if you go around, you avoided the whole journey.”
My journey is not over by a long shot. I was ready for company on my life’s journey and I found or, was found by, the perfect person for me, to come/go along for the ride. I am so ready to learn, to see the world through his eyes and relate to him my visions of the world and life as I see it. I am proud to ride, “shotgun” and enjoy the view at this point.
And if my life on this earth is to end, which it will, just when, I don’t know… how does that song go by ole blue eyes?
“I did it my way!”

An Abused Child’s Christmas Prayer

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When I think of Christmas, I think of Christmas past. Of when I was a child but more so when my children were young and living at home. Now they are living productive lives, raising children of their own and I get to spend Christmas with them and the babies. I think of all the laughter and the tears of joy, mixed in with the Christmas carols and a turkey feast.

But wait! Isn’t that what Christmas is about? About a child who was born to save us all. A child who grew up to be a Higher Power that gave up his life on this earth for all God’s children?? Isn’t that why we are to cherish the child, to gift the child because that child is our future and if we want any kind of future on this earth we need to take care of our children.

It will always be a villages duty to help raise every child born into this world. They did not ask to be born, so we as adults must do right by each and every one of them. To give them all the necessities of life, to be healthy in mind body and soul!

Then why today, was I able to type in a few words into a browser and find that  in north and south America and Canada , our children are being abused in such horrific ways??

– Police find boy cuffed with dead chicken on neck.

– Daughter locked in basement for 6 years

– Mechanic opens trunk, finds starving baby

– A 2,4,5 and 6 yr old boys found starving, living in filth

– Mom charged with helping boyfriend rape her 4 yr old son

– Mom throws infant at Deputy in a getaway bid.

Is this not the free world that other worlds to the east , west, south  look to for freedom?? Are we not a civilized continent?

Why are we in other countries fighting for what we believe their rights are, when our children’s rights are so abused ?

Give your time and any spare money to your LOCAL children’s foundations, which can be, food banks, Brownies and Girl Guide Clubs, Boys Scouts, the children’s wing at your local hospital, just to name a couple.

My stomach is sick thinking of what is taking place currently in the world around me to the children in my neighbourhood. And no, I realize that I can not save the world or every child in it. But what I can do, is save the children I do know personally, my own, my children’s children, my sisters children, my brothers children, my cousins children, my friends children.. I can save them from being abused when they should be living a life of love and learning.

I will condemn anyone I see abusing a child in my vision. It is my maternal instinct, my God given right as a Mother and caretaker.

So this year before we sit around the Christmas tree on Christmas morning, handing gifts to our children, take the time on Christmas Eve to explain to them the meaning of the season and why children are a blessing and why they are receiving gifts.. Because we were all saved, by a child that was born so long ago named Jesus. Then be ready for the questions they have. Be ready to answer them

When my children were young, we had a birthday cake for Baby Jesus Christmas Eve and I did explain to them the meaning of Christmas and why Jesus’s birthday was and is so special. It’s never too late to start a new tradition

God Bless ALL our children!!

*

~ Children Singing Their Praise ~

My Soul My Home Fires

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We all have scars, but the ones that get past them are the ones that recognize them, validate them and then see them as beauty marks, not markings of detest or ugly. Because they are what makes us up in mind, body and soul.

You ever come in contact with the  people who are seemingly frustrated a lot with scars, with life, saying they think they deserved better treatment from others and from life? And while they are thinking of what they are deserving, a part of the soul and spirit perish in loneliness. The world we desire does exist and is real. If it is one of happiness and joy or sadness and pity, what you put out, you get back.

In some of us a spark goes out and as long as we keep the windows to our soul and spirit closed, nothing can penetrate and ignite that spark again.. Nothing and no one.

There is a transformation that takes place, if we want it to. I will compare it to living in a pine cabin during the cold northern  Ontario winter months.

I use to love being gone from the cabin for the weekend, visiting somewhere, coming back to a pile of snow in drive and atop the roof, temperatures still below minus 20 degrees Celsius. To go in the cabin and it be so cold,  the best part was lighting the woodstove, getting it roaring to heat what once was cold, transforming what was once frozen to a warm spark and glow.

That is how the spirit is. We can leave it in the dark and dingy or work on striking up some heat, lighting a spark to warmth rest of our being.

Keep your home fires burning, share love and give love.

Robin Casarjean said, “Take the time to come home to yourself every day.

May 11/13 ~8 Yr. Anniversary

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In the past 10-15 years-the passing of loved ones has been greater than I recall in earlier years – thinking it has something to do with the coming of age-maybe – or as youngster we were shield from something so natural as death by our parents – not wanting us to deal with the ending of life when it come to a family member or close friends of the family. I for one did not keep death from my children – informed them of a death then allowed them to chose whether they wanted to attend services or not and answer any questions they may have had.

The closest family member to me that past was a brother who was a year older than I – Joey – with regards to him as a person I will say that he was one of the happiest people anyone could run into or have the pleasure of knowing – although he did have his own trials to deal with throughout his life – it was not evident that he was dealing with anything but enjoying life.

It was the late evening in the month of May – my phone rang – a baby sister – one of 4 younger sisters – I being the eldest daughter – sobbing on the phone telling me I need to get down to the river- something was wrong – Joey went into the water and had not come back out. Speed not a factor we raced down to the river – parking the vehicle up on the ridge – not being able to see what was below except the odd glimmer of the steel bars on a swing set or the sparkle of the half moon atop the water -which was like a plate of glass that night. I rushed down the stairs to come upon Joeys’ best friend wrapped in a blanket – his wife rubbing his arms to warm him up – tears in her eyes and his as he said to me – “I tried Cynthia – I tried to reach him but the water is so cold.”- I walked to the waters edge and began to call his name – over and over again – my throat beginning to pain – but I did not quit. Other family members started to arrive- the word was out- friends from town were launching their boats in the water up the river a ways I could hear the boat motors being started then the chugging of them as they began a slow pace along the rivers edge – the fire department and police arrived – Joeys’ best friend being questioned I could see from the corner of my eye – as I sat on the cool beach sand not 20 feet from the shore- I let my eyes drift from one side of the river – up and down – but could see nothing but the shadows of the trees across the way – my eyes kept descending on a spot not 50 feet from where I sat- where a slight more movement was than the rest of the water around it- it was a current- that is where he is I thought to myself – then at the same time thinking- that bugger was probably sitting on a rock across the way getting a chuckle from what was taking place- not that he would – but I guess for me was easier to believe he was alive and laughing as he was earlier that day when I seen him.

Several hours later a police officer come to us- Joeys’ siblings who were present to say- it has now come a search and recover not a search and rescue and paid their condolences to us. – there was shock on most of the faces – when I broke the silence saying that Mom and Dad needed to be told now- before we left to go to our parents home – I was volunteered to voice what had happened that evening to our parents once we all were in their home.
Getting our parents out of bed at 5:30 am to answer the door – was not a feat- as they always opened the door readily to thier adult children over the last few years- having 11 children there always seemed to be some one in turmoil and looking for a place to sit it out for a day or 2 or just a night. They sat at the kitchen table as we stood around the kitchen – I began from the beginning- told them all that had taken place earlier and how the next day divers would be brought in to recover the body from the depths of the Sauble River.

There is no cry as hair raising or heart breaking as that of a Mother who has just been told her child had died – her repeating his name over and over almost as if she said it enough he would appear before us all.

Joeys’ funeral took place on the reservation – a 4 day rite – with a sacred fire burning 24 hours a day for 4 days – native drummers & singers coming in to chant daily over those hours-the mass of people that streamed thru the hall was astounding – I had a couple younger sisters sobbing heavily as I embraced them – I would go up to the coffin- lay my hand on his chest – say a prayer – talk to him – tell him I knew he was at peace – I seen that as his body was brought from the depths of the river the next day – denim jeans, a shirt, bare feet and his glasses still sitting atop his nose- his face not strained but at peace.

The stream of cars was for miles behind the main family cars in the procession to the graveyard the next town over – taking my fathers arm and telling him to look out the rear window at the vision of followers- he did and then sob when I said- ” you see Dad – no matter what we are – who we are – we are loved by somebody.”

9 months later – my father passed on from a massive heart attack- some of us believing he never recovered from his sons death-

My bro and father have gone home – yet I know and truly believe they are by my side always spiritually– since their death- there has been many death within my extended family at times 3 times a year-tending a funeral service.

I don’t cry for them – I know they are in a better place – when I do cry it is for myself, because I miss their touch – the human part of me – in all of us- needing touch to grow and feel love.- and to cry for them would only keep them from resting in peace – which I do not want to do – because I truly believe that at sometime we all need to have closure – allowing the departed souls to soar- back home.

Since I wrote this blog, my Mother has passed over in 2009 and joined Dad and Joey.. Rest in peace.. ❤

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~The song below seemed to play over and over those 24 hours of Joeys’ drowning to the recovery of his body-something my eldest daughter pointed out to me as we drove up and down the road along side the river looking for any sign of Joey that early morning.~
I was allowed by Dad to chose the words to put on Joeys’ headstone. I chose..~Lived-Loved-Laughed~.. that is exactly how Joey lived his life on earth.

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