A Toast

My earliest memory of Uncle Terry is of his kisses.  When I was a little girl, Uncle Terry would stop in at our house overnight on his way to my grandparents house.  He always got in late and I would wait up.  In came this guy with  big Afro hair.  He would never wait for me to warm up to him as you often have to do with kids.  He would chase me, pick me up, and give me the biggest uncle kiss - always kinda wet and sloppy and tickly from his mustache.  It was a kiss that said, "OK now we're friends.  I'm only here for a short time. I can't wait for you to warm up!"  I was just a little Bubas back then, and Uncle Terry was one of the few people to still call me by my childhood nickname.

I loved Uncle Terry, like I do all my uncles and aunts, quietly from the background of our large family gatherings.  This past August long weekend, I watched my uncle serving up blender drinks from his homemade Margaritaville!  I watched at how he made a point to speak to every person - right from the bald little babies to the grey-haired little grannies.  And he knew how to make them laugh.  I admired this quality from a distance and wished I was more like that.  You always felt good about yourself after talking to Uncle Terry.

On August long weekend we celebrated grandma and grandpa's 60th anniversary.  I had this feeling that things in our family were changing.  I wasn't sure how many more of these get togethers would be taking place in grandma and grandpa's retirement town.  I felt strongly that we couldn't just let this weekend be a regular family gathering so when Karen called to suggest we up the ante a bit I quickly jumped on board. At the end of the phone call we had a to do list, some jobs to delegate, and I volunteered to make a toast to grandma and grandpa at the anniversary dinner. 

Shortly after I gave that toast to my grandparents on their 60th anniversary, Uncle Terry came to me and said, "That was awesome, Bubas," then he gave me a hug.  I laughed and replied, "oh maybe I'll toast you on your 50th birthday next year."  We laughed and hugged some more and moved along in the supper buffet line.  That may have been my last conversation with Uncle Terry.

One of my favorite memories was the first time Jon and I came to visit Terry and Karen at their new house.  Many of you will remember this weekend too.  We arrived at their house just as Terry was carrying in this huge, monster, big screen TV.  Kaleigh said, "Mom is going to kill you!" and he replied something like, "oh, she won't even notice it downstairs." We had the best time that trip.  Terry had hockey tickets for us all. Karen had her usual home cooked meals - roasted ham, creamy dill potatoes and always fresh blueberry muffins for breakfast.  We rocked all night - the adults downstairs next to the big screen and the kids in Uncle's immaculate garage competing for the Stanley Cup.  I have always felt welcome at Terry and Karen's home.  They have admirable family values and my three cousins are the proof. 

I will always remember Uncle Terry for the corny jokes he would tell me as a kid and for the racier ones he would email me as an adult. On Tuesday evening when I was preparing to leave home to join the rest of our family in saying our final goodbyes to Uncle Terry, I was looking at my pictures from August long weekend.  I was looking to see if I had one of Uncle.  I did.  As I was looking at it, Callie crawled on my lap and we looked at the picture together.  I asked her if she knew who that was.  She did.  Then she said, "Remember he taught me that trick." She proceeds to hold her hand out and says,

"Give me five.
Up high.
Down low.
Too slow."

I guess all of us kids have our favorite uncle memory.

*****
I wrote these words a year ago on stationary from the Franklin Hotel after attending Uncle Terry's funeral service.  I did not get the chance to toast him on his 50th birthday. 
To my family who have been struggling today, this week, this past year: I love you all sooo much.  Wherever you are, get your family together.  I don't know if it ever gets any easier but we are stronger together than we are a part.

Special Friend

I can not sleep tonight until I get out all the emotions that I experienced yesterday.  And I don't know how I can put this emotional wave into words so that I could possibly do it justice. So I will just type... 

I was a little caught off guard yesterday because I didn't know what to expect.  I had never been involved in or even attended a fundraising event for Cancer before so when I asked if I could join in to help support a special young girl that I know...I was completely overwhelmed.

I met this girl about a year ago...

She came into my life when her diagnosis was just weeks old.  Shock and denial, disbelief, fear of the upcoming,  rhabdomyo...what?, what do we do? how do we cope?  These were just a few of the many thoughts that raced through my mind as I took deep breathes to remain calm as her mom explained all the events that had occurred since the last time I saw them at the beach just two weeks earlier.  The eye infection she was telling me about that day...  didn't end up being an eye infection.

Jump ahead one year...

This past weekend our community hosted Relay for Life.  An event where teams of people walked all night to raise money for Cancer research.  People walked to support their loved ones who have fought their battles and won and in honor of the loved ones who will always be in our memories. 

Why all night?  "Simply because Cancer never sleeps."

The event began with a courageous victory lap involving all the many Cancer survivors.  I watched this special girl walk proudly, smiling brightly, because this event is truly a celebration for her.  Treatments are done.  Scans are clear.  And then it hits me.  The wave.  Tears start streaming from my eyes.  And Callie asks, "why are you crying mom?" 

I didn't know how to answer her.  I was thinking about how I was to help this special young girl this past year but in all honesty she taught me more than I ever could have offered her.  I learned medical terms and the names of the best nurses and the best doctors.  I learned about fear and frustration and anger at the world.  I learned about wanting to be normal.  I learned how to draw peace signs and hearts and rainbows and how to throw an awesome spa birthday party.  I learned about Selena Gomez, Sing it, and all the words to Firework. 

I learned to never take a moment of our precious lives for granted.

I watched her lead the sea of yellow shirts around the victory lap and I looked at the faces of these people.  People I know, people I pass on the street, people I see in the grocery store.  Most people I know.  Some I don't.  Parents and grandparents. Young and old.  All with one thing in common. 

They are survivors.

I have decided that there are not any words to describe the feeling of love and camaraderie that took place as people walked around that track. Like Helen Keller so wisely put it... "it must be felt with the heart."

As Callie and I walked, hand in hand around the track, she erupted with questions as only a four year old can.  Questions about Cancer and why people have no hair.  Questions about why some people can fight the bug and some people can't.  Questions about the little white bags with candles in them and what they were for. 

I struggled to answer these tough questions in  a way that she would understand.  So I told her about Papa's brothers.  She asked what Papa's brother's names were so I told her...Dale and Garry.  Then I told her about Nana and Papa.  And I tried so hard not to scare her or worry her as I fumbled trying to find the right words. 

And then I said, "We are going to light two candles tonight.  One for Dale and Garry because their body's couldn't fight off the bug and now they are in heaven.  And one for Nana and Papa because their body's did fight off the bug.  They are survivors.  Just like mommy's special young friend."

Adjustment

I changed my mind. 

I am going to cry because it's over. 

This past week had to have been the hottest temperatures we've had all summer.  And where was I?  At work freezing because of extreme air conditioning.  There is an adjustment period whenever I return to work, whether it has been two months, two weeks, or two days. And I like to think it's just the girls who are adjusting to new routines...but it's me too.

I need to juggle new schedules, organize day care drop offs and pick ups, make preschool runs, meet work commitments...I need to keep the balls in the air.  And after completely letting go for the past two months, I need time, like the girls, to adjust physically (when's nap time, oh right, no scheduled naps at work) and emotionally...

Battling the ongoing debate in my mind about finding the perfect home-work balance can be exhausting. The reality of dropping my girls off in the morning, bright eyed and ready to conquer the day... basically dropping them off at their best and picking them up after a day of constant turn taking, sharing, and navigating early friendships... basically at their worst, definitely requires an adjustment period.

We celebrated back to school with a brand new box of 64... first casualty - orchid.

 If I didn't have such a love affair with my work, the scale that measures the home-work balance would easily be in favour of the home side.  Work can seduce a woman away from her family because of the way he makes her feel... confident, assured, important, in-touch, inspired, creative...independent.

And I think it often sounds like our life is a magic carpet ride where we slide down rainbows and ride unicorns.  When I write about all the bests, and the love, love, LOVES, and the joy of making memories...these are real emotions and experiences.  But like most people our lives drive more like roller coasters, with its ups and downs and the occasional loop, than the smooth sailing of magic carpet rides.  And the reality is that when I sit down to decide which small sliver of our week that I want to write about I automatically zone in on the positive.  There are plenty of places to read and hear and watch about the annoyances of life or complaints about having to work.  And it's not that I don't have complaints or annoyances, bad days and struggles,  I just choose to leave them out because when I look back on my life...what is it that I truly want to remember.

The smiles.
The joy.
The successes.
The inbetween days.
The tiny moments.
And the big ones.

Dear Dr. Seuss... I will cry because it is over, but I will also smile because it happened.

Last Day

"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." Dr. Seuss

If May long weekend is the unofficial start of summer, then September long is the unofficial end.  It is unofficial because the temperatures are still skyrocketing and the girls splashed in the blow up pool in the backyard today. 

But today is officially the last day of my summer holidays.  After two months of lazy jammie mornings, beaches and camping and parks and spray pools... it is time for me to return to work and the girls to slip back into the routine of daycare and preschool.

And I won't cry because it's over because I know how fortunate I am to have had this time with my girls...to be able to make summer memories with them.  I will miss them terribly tomorrow.  They are not the only ones who will need to adjust to a new routine.  After having them on my coat tails all summer, it feels like a piece of me is missing when I am on my own.  Like a phantom limb. 

On our unofficial last day of summer, we had our morning coffee on the deck...in our jammies. And because we slept in late this morning, the sun was already up over the trees, casting its warm rays in our back yard drying up the morning dew on swings and bike seats. 

And little sister must have gotten a little too warm...

I was conscience during the moments we spent together today, feeling the emotions and listening closely to Callie's stories and I asked questions instead of the often used uh huh. Callie asked if we could go on a treasure hunt around the yard and I was a little over the top with, "that is such a fabulous idea."  Then Callie says, "do I have to comb my hair first?"

"No sugar, not today."  We are traipsing around the yard in our pyjamas, camera in one hand, coffee in the other...I don't think anyone will be worried about our bedhead.

But we did find some magnificent treasures...

 Callie found the remnants of an ancient drum...

And this is what Lexi thought of big sister's musical ability...

I will miss hearing these two girls tomorrow as they go on adventures, tell their stories and share their imaginations at daycare.  To keep busy I will be starting a new year at work with new projects and goals to meet.  It is always fun to to catch up with work friends and hear about their summer adventures and to feel the excitement of a new year.  To be inspired to do better and learn new things.


We eventually got out of our pyjamas and combed our hair.

 With summer quickly fading into fall... I have been having these urges to start nesting.  To declutter and organize. To prepare our nest for the hibernation that happens in winter.  I have been pinning and repinning home projects and recipes on my pinterest boards, looking for motivation and ideas to cozy things up.  (Shh, don't tell Jon.  He's not my biggest fan when it comes to home projects!) 

Although I won't cry about summer being over, I will cherish every moment because there is something so definitive about the changing of seasons... the reality that there will be many more summers to look forward too but at the same time, there will never be a two and four year old summer again.

Our last day of holidays has come to an end and we are moving forward.  And I need to get to bed because getting out the door on time in the morning is always a challenge.  Do I need to set the alarm clock or will tonight be the night?

Breaking News...

It's like spotting your first grey hair.

You see it, you run screaming, then you deny that it's happening...

Yes.  I'm talking about the first yellow leaves on the tree outside my kitchen window.

It won't be long before we will be rustling through fallen leaves, wrapping ourselves in wool sweaters, and waking up to frost on the ground.  But like that grey hair thing, I will deny that fall is creeping up on us. At least until after this long weekend. 

What have we been doing?

We've been playing in the backyard.

And the girls have been having their moments...

...when they're not swiping each others toys, discussing whose turn it is, or racing to be the first.

There have been some crime scene chalk outlines on the sidewalk...

And some skinned knees...

...skinned knees from the classic situation of girl running, full tilt, down the hill, looking back at her Spiderman kite high in the sky.  Mom warning, "don't run..." 

Whoomp.  Kite flying is over for the day and we carry the hysterically crying girl home and start searching for polysporin and Band-aids.

We've been having a lot of pool parties...



Hey mama, stop looking at daddy's speedo...baby's over in the kiddie pool unattended!



And I've been finding guys like this everywhere...

Sister knows it's back to school time.  She's been practicing.

A righty?

Hmmm.  Maybe a lefty...

That finish line is is just days away. 

Happy long weekend to all.