A Mother's Day Tribute

Today I wanted to pay tribute to the two women who made me who I am today: my mum and my Grama. 

I'm going to be honest: growing up, I was a total Daddy's girl. I was his little buddy and I spent a lot more time with him than I did with my mum. When I was eight and my dad got sick, things started to change. He was away a lot in the hospital, and I had to become strong and brave and good for my mum. I tried not to make things more difficult for her because I knew how stressful it was for her working full-time, dealing with my dad's business, and taking care of me and my brother. When I was ten, my dad died, and then it was just me and my mum (my brother was 20 at the time and he sort of came and went). Slowly, my mum and I grew closer. At first it was out of necessity - we had to stick together during those dark days, but then I realized she was more than just a mother. She was a friend. By the time I hit my mid-teens, she was my best friend. We did things together, went places together, and I wasn't embarrassed to be seen with her the way a lot of my friends were with their mothers. 

My mum has gone above and beyond for my brother and me. She is the epitome of the selfless mother.

My mum is the strongest person I know. She's also the kindest, most thoughtful person I know. She's been there for me no matter what and has always supported me, encouraged me, and shown unconditional love. She's funny and smart and beautiful, and I don't know what I'd do without her.

My Grama was another of my best friends. She and I were kindred spirits. She was always interested in what I was doing, and I loved hearing about her life. I asked her a million questions and she never got tired of answering them. She was always involved in something - she learned how to use a computer when she was 88, and learned how to paint when she was in her 90s. She did knitting and tatting, loved crossword puzzles and sudoku, and loved to read. She also participated in all the activities at her nursing home. She was a lifelong learner and loved to figure out how things worked. She was fascinated with my cell phone and computer, and was always asking questions (guess I come by that curiosity naturally!). When I was 17 and emailed her from France, she couldn't get over the fact that I could send her a message from halfway across the world. She was my biggest fan, and like my mum, always showed support and encouragement. When she died, a little part of me died with her, and I don't think anything will ever fill the hole she left in my heart. Not a day goes by that I don't miss her, but I know she lived a long, happy life, and I know she'd be proud of what I'm doing with my own life.   

  

Both my mum and Grama are the type of people that everyone loves instantly. They have this inner light that shines through and people are attracted to that. They both make friends everywhere they go, and make people feel good about themselves. I hope someday to be that type of person. I hope people will see me as good and kind with an inner beauty that radiates like the sun, and I'll tell them I got that from my mum and my Grama. I hope to be as good a mother to my own children as my Grama was to my mum and as my mum is to me. If I can manage that, my kids will be pretty damn lucky.

   

The two women who made me the person I am today

 

Welcome, 2013! Let the awesome begin!

I don’t really know how to describe 2012. It was better than some, and I wouldn’t even go so far as to say it was worse than others, it was just…a lot of the same. A lot of monotony. However, I’ll take that over tragedy and heartache any day, so I don’t feel right complaining. But…there were times it felt like these four walls were closing in on me and that nothing would ever change. I got tired of the same routine day in and day out, but I didn’t really do much to change it…I didn’t know what I could do.

2013 will be different. I can feel it. I can feel the possibilities, the change in the air, the change in me. 2013 is going to be EPIC, I just know it. I haven't felt this hopeful in a really long time.

A few highlights of 2012: 

 *Achieving my lifelong dream of becoming a published author in January, and then publishing two more books throughout the year

*Going to Cobourg with my sister-in-law to meet Gail Vaz-Oxlade

*Watching one of my best childhood friends get married and having my other best childhood friend as my date

*This is out of chronological order, but…Jenn’s bridal shower and bachelorette - day drunk, old friends, crazy dares, and dancing

*Going to Watertown for a day of shopping

*Finding out I’m going to be an aunt again!

*Spending so much time with Logan. I didn’t get to see Noah nearly as much as I wanted to this year, but Logan was here a lot between Amanda going to school and then working. I got to see more of him this past year than I ever did of Noah at that age, and I feel like I got to shape his mind and turn him into the crazy, wonderful little person he is. He was so receptive to everything I taught him, and he’s just the best baby ever. I feel so blessed to have both him and Noah in my life, and soon another little niece or nephew!

2013 Goals

Get healthy

I say this every year, but this is something I have to do. No more excuses. I'm going to do this differently than usual though: I'm not going to put as much pressure on myself as I usually do. I'm going to work steadily but not make it my main focus or become obsessive about it, because that's always my down-fall - I burn out. I'm actually going to be talking more about my health-related goals in a post later this week. 

Journal 

I’ve journalled on and off since I was little but I’ve never really stuck with it. My Grama kept journals from the time she was a young woman until she died. We have dozens of them, and I cherish them like you wouldn’t believe. I want my children and grandchildren to have mine someday, but it won’t be worth it if it’s a few random, inconsistent entries. I’m determined 2013 is going to be the best year ever, so it’ll be incentive to keep a journal regularly. I’ve actually already started. :-) 

Take more pictures 
There were times this year when I was really camera-happy, and I even learned a few new tricks just from playing around, but next year I really want to use my camera as if it were an extension of myself. I want to capture moments, feelings, memories, and even if no one but me ever sees the pictures, they’ll be my little moments in time to look at and remember. 

Go out more! 
Go out, have a life, do things, LIVE. I didn't do enough living in 2012. I want to have adventures and take chances and laugh til I cry and dance and be silly and HAVE FUN. I'm tired of being a hermit, I'm tired of letting my social anxiety hold me back. Life is meant for living and I need to get out there and live it! 

Make this blog more of a priority 
The times when I go for weeks without posting are usually because I don’t really have anything to share. 2012 was a pretty quiet (read: boring) year in my personal life, but I’m determined to change that in 2013, so I will be posting about my adventures, posting more pictures, and talking about projects and maybe even sharing a few recipes or how-tos.

I feel like 2012 was the year I really got my professional life started. I wrote almost non-stop, published three works, and wrote several others to publish in 2013. I feel like I'm getting that aspect of my life under control and it's all coming together nicely, and now 2013 is the year to carry that on but also get my personal life going. It can't all be about work, and I'm ready to detach myself from the computer a bit and have some fun!

Wishing you all a healthy, happy, love-filled, prosperous, AMAZING 2013!! <3

    

Saturday morning

On Saturday I posted about the one-year anniversary of my Grama's death. Saturday morning my mum, brother, sister-in-law, two nephews, and I went to visit Grama's grave. It was the first time we'd been there since her burial (a year ago today). My grampa and great-grandparents are buried there too, and although my great-grandparents' stones were marked and the big family stone was marked with their last name, my grandparents' names weren't marked, and their individual names weren't on the big stone. We had that done this spring, so we wanted to see them, plus visit Grama's grave in honour of the anniversary of her death. 

The cemetery is about an hours' drive north of here where my mum grew up, and it's a beautiful, scenic drive. It was my first drive this whole summer, and it was amazing to be out and get to see all the beautiful fields and trees and pass through Amish country and revisit the area where my mum grew up. 

I didn't think visiting the cemetery would bother me. I know my grama's not there - her spirit is with us and it's just her body there, so I was sure I would be okay. During the drive up, and even as we walked in I was fine, but the minute I saw her marker - saw her name and the dates of her birth and death - I lost it. It seemed so final. All this time I've been able to convince myself she wasn't really gone, but seeing it there in black and white carved into stone made it real, and it was like losing her all over again. There have been so many times over the last year when I've forgotten that she's gone and when I remember it's like being swept under a tidal wave. I feel like I've lost her a million times over in the last twelve months.

Then when Logan (who turned two-and-a-half on Saturday) got down on his hands and knees and hugged the grave and said 'I love you', I thought I was never going to stop crying. There's no way he could remember her, but he seemed to know. We talk about her, we show him pictures, and there's not even a flicker of recognition there, but at the cemetery, he kept hugging her grave and talking to it. 

I don't know what Noah was thinking - he remembers her, of course, but he was very solemn and kept asking me questions about the family. We had a moment standing in front of the grave where he came to me and leaned against me and put his arms around me and we just stood there for a few minutes in silence. He so rarely does that anymore - he turned ten in July - and I would have given anything to know what he was thinking in those moments. I also would have given anything to freeze those moments and hold onto them forever.

Anyway...as I said on Saturday, I know the whole point of August Break is to post pictures and not have to come up with blog topics, and after being almost completely silent the whole month of July, of course I choose now to start blogging again. Typical lol.

My maternal great-grandparents and grandparents

Me and Mum - we owe everything to Grama

Noah and Logan

A happy moment on a sad day. Me and my sister-in-law Amanda - she's helped keep us strong this last year

One year...

I know the whole point of August Break is to take a break from blogging and post pictures and not have to come up with something to say, but I can't let today go by without talking about this.

Today is the one-year anniversary of my Grama's death. My Grama was an amazing woman. She was smart and funny and creative and pretty much the nicest, sweetest, kindest person you can imagine. Everyone loved her. She was one of those people you just fall in love with the instant you meet them. I saw it happen countless times. She was one of my best friends - a kindred spirit - someone I could count on, trust, and talk to about anything. 

I lost a piece of my heart the day she died. Life hasn't been the same in the last year. She was the heart and soul of my family, and so much of my mum's and my life centred around her. I miss her so much, and sometimes it's still hard to believe she's gone. 

So much has happened in the past year. I achieved my dream of becoming a published author, and it breaks my heart that she wasn't here to see that since she was my biggest supporter and my biggest fan. When I finished writing my second and third novels, I just sat and had a meltdown both times because I wanted to tell her so badly and knew how proud she would be. My nephews have grown so much, and she would have enjoyed every story, every photograph, every visit. I'm constantly thinking 'I'll have to remember to tell Grama that' or 'Grama will love that picture'. Still. Sometimes I wonder if I'll do that the rest of my life. 

Anyway...it wouldn't feel right not to remember and honour her today. She's a huge part of the reason I am who I am today, and she continues to inspire me even though she's gone.

U2 has been the soundtrack of my life for many years, so I thought it was fitting that I was listening to them when I got the news that Grama had died. I was home alone while my mum was at the hospital with family, and I was basically pacing around going crazy, making and taking phone calls, waiting for the inevitable. I came to my room, sat down, and put on Kite by U2. As soon as it started, I knew she was gone. I just knew it. But the words were so soothing, so comforting, so appropriate, it was like she was saying them to me herself. The song wasn't even over when my mum called to tell me. 

This version in particular breaks my heart because Bono had just lost his dad. It's so raw and emotional and powerful. This may sound incredibly messed up, but even though it hurts to listen to this song, I make myself listen to it on a regular basis especially when I'm feeling numb - the pain reminds me that she would want me to be happy and live my life. 

"Something is about to give

I can feel it coming

I think I know what it is

I'm not afraid to die

I'm not afraid to live

And when I'm flat on my back

I hope to feel like I did

...

I want you to know

That you don't need me anymore

I want you to know

You don't need anyone or anything at all

Who's to say where the wind will take you?

Who's to say what it is will break you?

I don't know which way the wind will blow

Who's to know when the time has come around

I don't wanna see you cry

I know that this is not goodbye"

 

 

18 years...

18 years ago today, my dad died. He had been sick for two years with leukemia, in and out of hospital (both in town and two hours away at the special cancer hospital), had chemotherapy, a bone marrow transplant...but after such a long illness, his body just couldn't handle any more. He was almost exactly three months shy of his 50th birthday.

Because I was so young when he was sick and when he died, I blocked out a lot of those scary memories. We spent a lot of time in hospitals. There was one time when he was in the cancer hospital for three whole months. Mum and I were only able to visit him on weekends, and we had to depend on getting rides or taking the bus because we couldn't drive there. I have a few random memories of those two years, but it makes me sad that I basically lost that time because my mind blocked it all out. Self preservation, I guess? He was so sick...he lost a lot of weight, lost his hair, lost his sense of taste and smell...kids weren't generally allowed on the cancer floor (hello walking germ pits), but I was. The only time I wasn't allowed to visit him was after his bone marrow transplant when he was in ICU. I got to see him through the window though.

He hated having his picture taken - he preferred to be behind the camera. He often looked angry in pictures, except for pictures with me or Jamie or Mum. In most of the pictures with me, he was looking at me rather than directly at the camera.

I've forgotten a lot of things, but I remember that morning 18 years ago. My aunt and uncle came from the east coast to be there. They took turns staying with me in the visitor's lounge while I slept. I remember them being there when Mum woke me up at 4:30 in the morning to tell me Daddy was gone. I remember wanting to go to his room but they wouldn't let me. I remember bits and pieces of the long drive home. I remember my aunts and uncles showing up, a lot of whom I'd never met before. My dad was the youngest of 16 kids (although some of them had passed away by that point) and they all lived on the east coast, so I'd only met a handful of them before. It was weird having all those strangers in my house, but knowing they weren't really strangers, they were family I'd never met before. 

I love the way he's looking at me here. Jamie and I are ten years apart, and my nephews are almost 8 years apart. It's crazy to see pictures of Jamie and me  together as kids, because Noah and Logan look so much like Jamie and me. It makes me sad that my dad never got to meet them. He would have adored them.

It's weird to think that I've lived almost 2/3 of my life without him - I've lived longer without him than I lived with him.  

I've lost quite a few loved ones, but the biggest losses in my life were my dad and my Grama. There are a couple of ironic things about their deaths:

*My dad was 3 months shy of his 50th birthday when he died, and my Grama was 3 months shy of her 100th birthday when she died, making her twice the age he was when he died.

*When my Grama was in the hospital before she died (and when she died), she was in the last room my dad had in the local hospital before he died. He didn't die there, he was sent back to the cancer hospital and that's where he died. 

Weird, huh?

If you've read my novel Blue Sky Days, you'll see some of the similarities. Nicholas was diagnosed with leukemia and had to go to a cancer hospital an hour away. I have a scene where Emma walks in and the nurse is shaving his head - that's one clear memory I have from when my dad was in the hospital, so I worked it in. The room Nicholas was in was the same room number my dad and Grama were in. I worked in other little things, like Emma's dad's name was Paul, and that was my dad's middle name. There were other things, too. Writing the book was cathartic - I poured my heart and soul and guts into it, bled all over the pages and let the blood mix with the tears, the memories I had, and the ones I'd lost. I gave Nicholas the happy ending that my dad didn't get. I think he would have liked that. 

 

Exciting news

Normally I would post this on my author blog (and I will eventually), but since it's leading to something personal, I'm posting it here first.

Yesterday evening, I finished writing my second book. And by second book I don't mean the second book I've ever written - this is probably my fourth or fifth - I mean the second book I intend to have published. My first novel, Blue Sky Days, was contemporary YA romance/coming-of-age, and this one is women's fiction/chick lit. 

I started writing this book on January 19th, two days after Blue Sky Days was officially published. I had another story idea in mind that I planned to go with, but I got this idea and after scribbling a dozen pages of notes, I knew I had to go with it while I had the momentum. I hoped to have it done within a couple of months, but then I started watching Logan every day, and I had to cut my writing time back. There have been so many distractions and setbacks, I was honestly beginning to think I'd never finish writing it. I know five months isn't really a long time, especially for writing a novel, but it felt so much longer than that. 

Anyway, I forced myself to sit and write yesterday, and after writing about 5,700 words (possibly a personal record), I finished the book. I was so excited, I was practically hyperventilating. I'm so used to feeling numb most of the time that the excitement was almost overwhelming. It was completely foreign, but it was also amazing. 

The final word count was 103,971 words, which absolutely floored me. I kept track as I went so I'd know my daily count, but I never in a million years thought I'd be able to write a book that was that long. Blue Sky Days was about 84,000 words I think, and a huge chunk of that was written during revisions.

The first thing I did when I finished writing was run out to tell my mum. She knew I was close, so she'd been waiting most of the afternoon with bated breath for me to come tell her I was done. My next instinct was to tell my Grama...even after all these months, she's still in the forefront of my mind. I looked at Mum and knew she was thinking the same thing, especially when her eyes filled with tears. 

It was a really bittersweet moment - finally finishing my book, and knowing how incredibly proud she would be, but not getting to tell her. Next to my mum, Grama was my biggest supporter and biggest fan. She was always asking me about my writing, wanting to know how it was going and what I was working on. Even in the hospital the days before she died, she wanted to hear all about how Blue Sky Days was coming. My one and only regret when it comes to her is that she didn't get to read it. That grieves me immensely, and I'm afraid it'll haunt me for the rest of my life.

My next step was to email my cousin, who's been a big support, and who was also a beta reader for Blue Sky Days, as well as the book of short erotic stories I'll be publishing in the next few weeks. Next, I messaged a childhood friend who I reconnected with a few years ago, and told her. Her excitement and encouragement and support made my heart burst with happiness. Finally, I messaged a friend on the west coast who I met at a U2 concert last July, and who I've been in touch with almost every day since. I was so touched by their excitement and how proud they were of me. It made the moment that much more special and memorable. 

Now comes the long and exhausting process of revising and editing, which I have a love/hate relationship with. For more on that, keep an eye on my author blog and also my book blog (yes, I have three blogs...there's nothing like confusing people). I'm drawing a blank on cover design, but hopefully I'll get that straightened out soon and be able to do a cover reveal - stay tuned!

 

I went wandering...

Talking about this isn’t easy for me because it makes me feel incredibly vulnerable, and I always worry about people judging me…but I want to be completely honest here, and maybe along the way someone who’s going through the same thing will read this and take comfort in knowing they’re not alone.

In my last post, I talked about having social anxiety issues. I’m incredibly shy, and I have trouble doing things on my own. I rarely go out alone because of my issues, but I’ve decided it’s time to start taking steps to change that...baby steps. I know that baby steps will eventually turn into leaps and bounds if I can stick with it and be strong. I’ve overcome so many obstacles in my life, I can overcome this too.

A year ago, I was getting better. I went out on a fairly regular basis, and even ventured out alone. During the periods I didn’t feel like going out, I went anyway because I had a purpose: visiting my Grama. She was one of my best friends, and I visited her at least once a week, more if I could manage. Then last August she died and a little part of me died, too. A bright light went out in the world, and I was so lost. My heart was broken, and on the days I wasn’t drowning in grief, I was completely numb.

I reverted to my old ways, but it was worse than ever. I didn’t want to go out, and the only times I went were with my mum or friends who understand my anxiety. Nobody but Mum knew how deeply I was grieving - it felt like nobody even really cared. The whole world moved on while Mum and I were stuck grieving the loss of someone who was basically the centre of our universe. And it wasn't the first time, either...but that's a story for another day.

Lately I’ve been desperate for change. I know it’s not healthy to live like this, and more than that, I don’t want to live like this anymore. I’m tired of letting life pass me by, and I want to start really living. I don't want to let my fear hold me back from all the wonderful things I know life has to offer.

I also mentioned in my last post about the Exploring the Senses course, run by Susannah Conway. I feel like this is the nudge I needed to get out. So…baby steps. Yesterday I was watching a group of high school boys kick a soccer ball around across the street. I just watched them for awhile - laughing, carefree, playing like little kids - and I couldn’t help but smile. While I was watching them, I also noticed a beautiful rose bush near the wall of the school. That just proves how unobservant I am - it’s across the street (mind you, it’s a city street, so that’s a fair distance), and I’ve never noticed it.

That sparked an idea. The kids at that school planted a flowerbed last week, and I was curious about it because we can’t see it well from our window. I decided that I would head out, wander around, and take some pictures. As sad as it sounds, I really had to psych myself up for it. It’s only across the street, but I was serious when I said I don’t go anywhere alone. My first thoughts were, ‘What if something happens to me? What if people see me taking pictures and think I’m weird?’ And then I realized a) It’s ridiculous to think something’s going to happen to me any time I go out, and b) Who the hell cares if people look at me and think I’m weird? These are just excuses to remain stuck in this rut, and I'm tired of excuses.

So I was actually starting to get a bit excited about my little adventure, and then the skies started to darken…and darken...and it started to pour, and then storm. I couldn’t believe it. I was so disappointed - all that anticipation for nothing. But, by the time I finished dinner, it had stopped raining and mostly cleared off. Despite that, I thought ‘maybe tomorrow will be better. Or the weekend.’ It only took me a minute to come to my senses, get dressed, grab my camera, and head out. And I’m so glad I did.

To most people, this would seem really insignificant, but to me it’s a big step. Now I just need to keep it up. 

The flowers that started it all

 

On a side note (and I feel kinda stupid for admitting this): a few weeks ago, I finally figured out what the macro setting was on my camera, and how to use it. I've only had this camera for...oh, two years...so it was about time. I've had so much fun using the setting, and I keep looking for things I can take close-ups of. I'm obsessed. I had a lot of fun with these flowers, and when I got home and uploaded the pictures, I actually thought, 'wait, I took these??' All around, a good night.

*****

I went out walking

Through the streets paved with gold

Lifted some stones, saw the skin and bones

Of a city without a soul

I went out walking

Under an atomic sky

Where the ground won’t turn

And the rain it burns

Like the tears when I said goodbye

Yeah, I went with nothing

Nothing but the thought of you

I went wandering

…

I went out there in search of experience

To taste and to touch and to feel as much

As a man can before he repents

~The Wanderer - U2~

 

Flashback Fridays: Days with Grama

Flashback Fridays is a weekly meme here at Lost and Found. The idea is to talk about something from your past - a childhood memory, a favorite vacation, favorite music or movies or TV shows from the past, a special memory from high school or your days as a young adult, a big event in your life (grad, wedding, becoming a parent, going back to school, new job), games you used to play, childhood friends - anything at all. Every week, I'll post a Linky so you can link up your Flashback Friday post and we can hop around to visit each other and enjoy the reminiscing.

My Grama was always one of my best friends. We used to say we were ‘kindred spirits’ - we had this amazing, special connection.

I’m the baby in my family. My parents had me later in life, so my brother and two cousins are much older than I am. Because of that, they got to know Grama in ways I didn’t - they got to have sleepovers at her house, and have her cook meals for them, and bake them treats. They got to see her active, and have her play with them on the floor and run around with them and take them places. There have been times over the years when I felt almost cheated because I missed out on all of that, but then I realized just like they got a side of Grama that I never got, I got a side of her none of them got. Now I see I got the best parts of her. 

Me with Grama and Poppy

Up until the time I was 12, we lived in the country in a house that had actually belonged to my Grama and Poppy before my Poppy had a stroke and they had to move because they couldn’t handle a house. They moved to an apartment, then a retirement home, and then a retirement home/nursing home combo - Grama lived in the retirement part, Poppy lived in the nursing home part because he required more care.

After my dad died and we had to sell our house (a story for another day), my mum and I moved into the city, farther away from Grama and Poppy. We still visited them every weekend, but it wasn’t as easy to just pop over for a visit. There was a girl who worked at the retirement home who was very fond of Grama and who lived fairly close to me. The summer we moved, she used to take me with her a couple times a week to spend the day with Grama. We would do group exercises first thing in the morning, and then spend the rest of the morning in her room talking. We talked about anything and everything - books, history, school, friends, boys, family, you name it. Whatever my little 12-year-old mind came up with, she would listen and encourage me. She even indulged me when I told her I secretly believed unicorns were real.

Before lunch, I would go downstairs to the dining room with the girl who worked there and help her set the tables. It might sound weird, but it was a lot of fun. When I was finished with that, I would load up a trolley with dishes and cutlery for two, our lunch, and then take it upstairs where Grama and I would eat in the fancy ‘family dining room’, just the two of us. I loved that. I would get to serve her, pour our drinks, get her whatever she needed, and feel like an adult. Once in awhile, they had special meals like KFC, and we would eat downstairs in the main dining room with everyone else. In the afternoons, Grama would sometimes have a short nap, then we would visit some more, go downstairs to see Poppy, and then we’d do whatever activities had been planned - Bingo, musical entertainment, Dominos, card games, etc. It was so much fun, and all the little old ladies made a big fuss over me.

We also had a family friend who lived near our old house, and she had me over to her place fairly regularly that summer. She brought Grama over sometimes when I was there so we could all spend time together. This family friend taught me to play the piano, and I remember giving a 'recital' for her, my mum, and Grama. I still have the program I made in my Memory Box. I keep everything.

We were all heartbroken when Grama had to leave the retirement home and move to a nursing home. Poppy had passed away by then, and where Grama lived was up to fate - she had her name on a waiting list, and had no control over where she ended up. Luckily, she ended up in a nursing home just five minutes away from Mum and me, so we got to visit her more often.

Grama and I were always close, but in the year before her death, we became even closer. There was a short period where I didn’t visit her as often as I would have liked, or as I should have because I was so busy, but in the year before she died, I visited her as often as I could. I was always interested in our family history, and I made sure to ask her plenty of questions and write things down. I remember her telling me when I was a little girl that she wished she had asked her grandmother more questions, and I was determined not to have those regrets myself.

She and I had so much fun. She was my biggest supporter and cheerleader. Every week she wanted to know how my writing was coming, what I’d been doing, where I’d been, and hear stories about the boys (my nephews). She was fascinated with technology, even though she didn’t understand most of it. The November before she died, I went to all the events I’d never gone to before at the nursing home - the birthday tea, the bazaar - and I don’t think a day goes by when I don’t thank my lucky stars that I did that, because they were the last she’d have. We had a huge 99th birthday party for her that month, and I made sure I was never more than a few feet away from her in case she needed anything. She would visually seek me out once in awhile and give me one of her beautiful, heart-melting smiles. She always made me feel so needed and loved. 

When she got sick and went into the hospital, my mum and I spent quite a bit of time with her in the hospital. Even though she was sick, I have great memories from those nights. She was in good spirits, talking and joking, asking me questions and telling me things. Usually when she was really sick (there were a few times over the years when we thought we would lose her), she became really disoriented, but not this time. She was so strong, we all thought she was going to pull through - she was only three months away from her 100th birthday - but her body had other ideas, and it just couldn’t handle all that was wrong with it.

Life hasn’t been the same since Grama died. It’s been nine months, and I still feel lost a lot of the time. So much of my life centred around her. On a daily basis, I still find myself thinking ‘I have to tell Grama that’ or ‘Grama will think that’s funny’ or ‘I’ll have to take that to show Grama’. There are just some things you never get over, and I think her death will be one of those things for me. I didn’t just lose a grandparent, I lost a friend, a part of my heart and soul.

BUT…I have amazing memories of her. 27 years of wonderful, heartwarming, laugh-out-loud memories of things she said, places we went, conversations we had, loving looks she gave me. I have no regrets when it comes to her, and for that, I feel truly blessed. 

What were your grandparents like? Were you close to them?

If you did a Flashback Friday post this week, be sure to link up below! Happy Friday!

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mums, grandmas, and aunts out there!

I’m very lucky to have a mother who is not only my mum, but also my best friend, partner in crime, and secret keeper. I was also very lucky up until ten months ago, when she passed away, to have the most amazing Grama in the world. These two women have shaped me, inspired me, and encouraged me every day of my life, and for that I am truly blessed and truly grateful.

My life hasn’t been the same since my Grama died. My mum’s and my lives pretty much revolved around her, and the day she died, a bright light went out in the world, and she left a huge hole in our hearts and in our lives. Grama and I were kindred spirits, and we could spend hours talking about anything and everything. I'm so incredibly thankful that my mum and I have each other to lean on. 

A lot of people hope and pray that they don’t turn into their mothers. For me, it’s the opposite, and here are just a few reasons why:

*My mum is the kindest person I know.

*She’s funny. She’s funniest when she’s not trying to be, and I love that.

*She’s a survivor. She makes the best out of any situation. She hasn’t exactly had an easy life, and she’s suffered a lot of loss, but she somehow manages to stay positive and keep her head up and keep going, no matter how hard things get.

*She’s incredibly loyal.
*She'd do anything for anyone.

*She’s incredibly smart, but she’s never condescending or preachy.

*Everyone loves her. From the time I was little, my friends always loved her, wished she was their mother, and even called her Mum. She makes friends wherever she goes - the grocery store, the bus, the library. She’s just so genuinely nice, and there’s not a fake bone in her body. People are just drawn to her.

***On a side note, my Grama was all these things, too. Everyone loved her the instant they met her. I strive to be like them - they are my role models, my inspirations in life, and my heroes.

Happy Birthday Bono!

I mentioned in yesterday's post that one thing you need to know about me is that I love U2. They've been my favorite band for many years, and I've seen them live three times (the most recent being just 10 months ago).

I know a lot of people don't like Bono, and think he's a pompous ass, but I love him. Sure, he can be a little full of himself at times, but he's got a wild imagination and big dreams. He wants to change the world - what's wrong with that? He's passionate and compassionate, and he has a talent for singing and songwriting that's unparalleled (in my humble opinion). 

U2's music has gotten me through good times and bad. It's been the soundtrack of my life through joy and sorrow, and there have been times when it's been one of the only things keeping me sane. Whenever I'm lonely, Bono is there whispering in my ear, singing about love and heartache and life and friendship, and keeping me company. When my beloved Grama died nine months ago, I was listening to U2 when I found out. She was in the hospital, and we knew it was inevitable, and while my mum and aunt and cousins were with her, I was stuck at home waiting for the news. I had just started to listen to Kite, and as Bono crooned to me about love and loss, I knew she was gone, and that was when my mum called. It seemed fitting.

"Something is about to give

I can feel it coming

I think I know what it is

I'm not afraid to die

I'm not afraid to live

And when I'm flat on my back

I hope to feel like I did

.....

Who's to say where the wind will take you?

Who's to say what it is will break you

I don't know which way the wind will blow

Who's to know when the time has come around?

I don't want to see you cry

I know that this is not goodbye."

~Kite - U2~

Not only do I love their music, I love the camaraderie among their fans. I've made some good friends on U2 fan forums; their music has brought my sister-in-law and me closer (she's the person I've been to all three concerts with); and I even met a great new friend in line at their last show (we only spent a day together, but we've been in touch every day since). I even thanked the boys in the acknowledgements of my novel. I didn't care how silly it may seem to some people, it was something I felt needed to be done because of all their music has meant to me. I also mentioned a few of their songs in the book, and how their music had become the soundtrack of the characters' lives.

My most memorable Bono moment: when my sister-in-law and I saw them in July, we made it into the pit in the third row, with Bono to our left. We were so close, it was a dream come true. Near the end when Bono came swinging out on his suspended microphone, he swung over to our side of the stage and stopped. I'd been having issues with my camera all night - sometimes when I pushed the shutter, nothing happened - and of course, it happened at that exact moment. I clicked and clicked and clicked, but nothing happened, and then suddenly I realized he was still there, hanging from his microphone, and looking at me...waiting for me to get my shot. My camera finally worked, I got the shot, and Bono swung away. Best. Moment. Ever. After that, I just switched to video so I wouldn't have to worry about my touchy shutter.

So, happy birthday to Bono, a musical genius, a man who has changed lives, and who dreams big, and who strives to change the world.