Where Are You Going?

“Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds.” ― Albert Einstein

What a month this has been. Not even half way through June, and so much has happened, is happening, will happen!

My 19 year old son is on the cusp of graduating! I’m so proud of him. He has FASD. If you don’t know what that is, it’s Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder. His birth mother drank while pregnant, causing a great many neurological issues for my sweet boy. That said, he has constantly strived for what he wants. The past week alone he has past his learner’s driving test (YES!) and will finally graduate with his GED that he worked so hard to get. He even has full time work on a farm. To say this momma is proud would be an understatement. I can’t take the credit though. He has been staying with a caregiver who is trained in assisting those with issues like my son’s. She has been my super hero, a guardian angel that swooped in and made life so much better for all of us. My son’s mind is active, he is constantly thinking of what he wants to do with his life, how he wants to do it, where he wants to go, and so on. He has a huge heart, and his spirit shines so bright.

In other news, my parrotlet, Kalypso, has started laying eggs! My budgie, Pi, has become her mate/guardian and even injured himself trying to keep me away. Oh my. The eggs will not be fertile, budgies and parrotlets are from two very different genera. If you’d like to see a little video of them, feel free to head over to my Instagram (link on the sidebar). They are so adorable. The eggs will remain until about 20 days after the last one is laid. If I remove them any sooner, it will cause Kalypso to lay more, and that could be very harmful to her. Parrotlets can lay up to 8 eggs every other day in one breeding season!

Schools almost over for my youngest. He’s so excited to start summer, and we are so fortunate for our lives.

This, then, brings me to a very important current happening, something that needs to be talked about.

Many people in Canada, and around the World, were shocked to hear of the discover of 215 children at a former Residential School. Some calling it a dark part of Canada’s history. What a load of shit. The last Residential school closed in 1996. I graduated in 1992. I graduated university in 1997. I grew up knowing how horrible these children were treated. I don’t know if it’s because of where I was raised of my family dynamic, or that I had friends and loved ones who are First Nations. Maybe a combination of all those and the fact that I have a thirst for knowledge.

My mom’s family (as mentioned in the previous post) is Acadian from Northern New Brunswick. I’m not going to paint it with rainbows and fairy dust, but for the most part I grew up hearing how wonderful First Nations treated Acadians, especially during the horror of the deportations by the English (we know we have family that were separated from us, but we don’t know where they ended up).

My dad’s family is Welsh. My grandparents immigrated to Ontario around 1938/39. My dad’s oldest brother was born in Wales, followed by my dad who was born in Canada. If you don’t know the history of the Welsh, let’s just say the English treated them just as good as they did the Acadians and for centuries longer. The Welsh weren’t allowed to speak their own language, it’s amazing it has survived and now there are many Welsh schools in Wales.

I do know how to speak French, my mother insisted on it. I have struggled to learn Welsh. My dad spoke Welsh at home until he was school aged, then it was all English. He remembers a few words, but not much else.

Why am I explaining my family history in this context? I think because I feel like it shines a light on perspective. I was raised by families who had endured hardships. That being said, I’m white. I completely understand and see my privilege. If you see me on the street, you’re most likely going to judge me by my tattoos or lack of make up, not my skin colour. That is wrong on a level I can’t even put into words. There are those who have been born with this privilege, but they lack the perspective to see and understand it. They lash out with terms that are meant to demean, all the while showing how fragile their own self image truly is.

The fact that First Nations children were so heinously abused for just wanting to speak their mother tongue is absurdly cruel. They were harmed for things any white child would never have been even scolded for. I’ve started to read the names of the dead First Nations children, starting from A. The list is long. My pronunciation is atrocious, I am sure. I will persevere in reading each and every one. Their names deserve to be heard, I just wish their birth names, not Christian moniker, but true First Nations birth names were written therein. Some do, you can tell which ones. It breaks my heart and hurts my soul to see so much pain. I’ve tried to put myself in the shoes of their families, and I can’t. It would quite literally break me if someone stole my children from me and sent them away to such a place.

I’ve said it before, I will say it again – the depths of human depravity never cease to amaze me.

If you want to learn more, please visit The Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s page – http://www.trc.ca/index.html. Here you can find more information, resources, children’s books that can help open up a conversation about Residential Schools – I firmly believe they need to be taught this, it is not just of historic importance, it is important CURRENT issue.

My heart is with you. My eyes see you. My mind thinks of you. My spirit weeps with you.

Dave Matthews Band – Where Are You Going

Under Pressure

“Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.” ― George Orwell, 1984

This whole summer has been a stress bomb of pressure. We’re still trying to sell our house, my older kids’ dad died on Canada day (we had divorced long ago), we lost one of our cats, my adopted son was officially diagnosed with FASD (Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder), my daughter graduated (YAY!) and has decided to join the Air Force.

I’ve been sick, struggling, working my ass off, renovating, cleaning, caring for everyone as much as I am physically able to.

Here’s one of my favourite pictures of my Indian Ringneck, Kira.

20190607_072817

Not hard to tell she’s full of character…and she makes me so happy! Even throught all of the stress, ups and downs, and life – my pets are the best therapy ever.

Now – to find a house for us to move into! I had hoped we would be moved before the baby of our family starts school this year. Yes, I had one graduate (a year late, but she did it!) and one starting!!! I may be a bit insane…

Queen ft David Bowie – Under Pressure

Exhausted

“Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning do to do afterward.” ― Kurt Vonnegut

I love to laugh.

Lately my MS has reared it’s ugly head and pain radiates in various areas of my body. I’m exhausted mentally, physically…emotionally.

I’m exhausted from worrying about how my children are. How can I not be a burden to them?

I’m exhausted from worrying about my husband. He has Parkinson’s, I don’t want to make him worse.

I’m exhausted from forcing myself day in and day out to sit at a desk. I HAVE to be the bread winner. I’m the only one able to work full-time.

I’m exhausted from fighting for help for my son. He’s 17; we adopted him young, but it didn’t protect him from the in-utero alcohol and drug use. Now he’s paying the price for someone else’s folly.

I’m exhausted from fighting for my daughter. She’s almost 19; she’s fought through so much emotional trauma. She’s finally conquered high school and on her way to college.

I’m exhausted from worrying about my youngest son. He’s 5; he starts this school this year and I wish with all I am that I could wrap him in a warm blanket of hugs and hold him tight to me away from the upcoming onslaught of expectations and rigidity.

I’m exhausted from trying to maintain our house. Selling it has been both the worse and best thing for us…if only it would sell…

On Friday, I meet a bariatric team in hopes of getting a much needed surgery to help me in my health journey. I have no fear in this, only hope. Hope that all this exhaustion will be worth it. Hope that I will once again find some health and joy.

Hope that I will laugh without pain and not in spite of pain. Hope that I will no longer feel so exhausted.

Foo Fighters – Exhausted

Say Something…

“It is not over, unless you stop trying.” ― Nabil N. Jamal

I feel like I gave up. Subconsciously that is.

I have been eating really well, until the last two weeks. My world imploded into even more stress and I spiralled.

I feel a gaping hole inside my chest that grows and grows. I need to fix it, but fixing it means letting go of many, many things that I’m not sure I’m ready to.

I spend, and have spent, so much time making sure my children’s lives were as amazing as I could make them that I forgot to live as well. It’s the trap of the motherhood – we give and give and give until our lives have been sucked out and there is nothing left but a deep hole.

I’m not giving up though. I’m fighting it kicking and screaming. It may not look that way, but I am.

I WILL SUCCEED.

A Great Big World, Christina Aguilera – Say Something

Chiquitita

“Chiquitita, you and I know
How the heartaches come and they go and the scars they’re leaving
You’ll be dancing once again and the pain will end
You will have no time for grieving
Chiquitita, you and I cry
But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you
Let me hear you sing once more like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita
Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita”

 – Benny Goran Bror Andersson, Bjoern K. Ulvaeus  (ABBA)

This song really hit home. Today most of all.

When I was a teen, I lost my best friend. She was murdered. Today, 26 years ago.

I realize this song is not about death, but the sentiment is the same. I danced again, I went on with my life. Some days are harder than others – life happens, it’s not always fair or kind. Sometimes life is brutally cruel, so much so that you see yourself on a high precipice waiting for the wind to waft you over the edge. But life can be wonderful too.

This week has been hard. Between migraines, teens, issues for family and friends that make me want to wrap them all up in the biggest hug I can, it’s been hard.

But there are always slivers of those silver linings. I’m knitting a goat for a friend and I am loving the way it is turning out, even though it is a crochet pattern! My baby boy (I still can’t believe he is 3!) has been so affectionate and sweet that my heart feels fuller than ever. Even my teens seem to be having a better week as well. Money is tight, but when isn’t it.

I discovered my Charlie ‘girl’, is actually a Charlie BOY LOL! I had a great giggle over that surprise last night (he’s maturing into a juvenile and it just became obvious last night).

Then today hits. The anniversary of when life changed for myself and my group of friends. It really brings into focus all that I have to be grateful for. I have three really healthy kids. Sure, the older two have difficulties – but they are healthy. I have an amazing husband who is always by my side, yes, he has Parkinson’s – but it’s NOT a death sentence. I have been sick a lot, sure, but I am finally losing weight and keeping it off! I am more active and can see the changes in me! I can knit – wow, that alone I a big deal for me! Just a few short months ago my hands hurt so much that I couldn’t!

I often wonder where Pam would be now had she lived. She would be 40 going on 41 in October. Would she have kids? Would she be around here? Considering I am still friends with the others from our group, I like to believe her and I would still be very close today if she had lived. I bet she would still be larger than life – gawd she was so full of life!

I miss you Pam. I think of you often. I think of your sister often and hope that she will have no more hardships, she has had enough. I miss your mom. I miss laughing with you and just talking. I still remember your voice, our last phone call.

I wish you could see us now – me, Gena, Rhonda – I like to think you do, and that you check in on us. Our ‘band’ was never the same without you.

ABBA – Chiquitita