To my boy

On this Father’s Day, my oldest boy became a father. Of a boy of his own. It happened in the wee hours of the morning as if his son had decided to punctuate his own grand entrance with the exclamation point of significance that this day gives. My boy is a father. After giving birth to three wonderful sons, my world welcomes one more. And of course, today of all days, I am hoping that I have taught my son everything he needs to know as he becomes a parent himself.

I hope he knows to look for reasons to laugh more than reasons to anger. I hope he knows that time passes so quickly that even when you feel exhausted by the enormity of what you are living through, this too shall be gone in the blink of an eye and you will soon be marveling at what once was. I hope he knows to drink in every blessed moment of the adventure ahead of him, good and difficult because it will all become the fabric of a life that he will one day look back upon and smile. I hope he knows to smile with his face and heart and soul every time he sees his boy because it will lift his small spirit as he grows before us.

What I do know is that my son now knows that no matter how full your heart is with love, no matter how complete your life feels and full and happy, there is always room for more love.

And your heart wonders how you ever lived before that love came in to fill you up.

With all the love that fills my blessed heart.

For Chris and Lincoln.

I do

Two former colleagues were married this weekend. Two more women declaring publicly their faith not only in their chosen partners but also in the institution of marriage.

In the face of growing statistics regarding the percentage of failed marriages and the attached string of broken hearts, they have faith that they will be happy. Ever after. Or maybe they have faith in being together with their partner is better being alone. I could agree with that one. Alone is certainly not for everyone (and I think I have stated many times here that I really don't think it's for me either but life carries on, right?).

But as I scrolled through the ongoing Facebook stream of wedding day photographs with smiles and loving looks and palpable support and love from those witnessing the declaration of vows, it seems like such a good thing to believe in.

Faith. It is a wonderful thing. Faith in love is the best thing of all. It's enough to make my cynical heart believe as well.

Adding Up

I seem to be fixated on numbers of late. Maybe because my job is increasingly numbers-focused. Maybe because I'm turning 50 soon (now there's a number for ya). Maybe there's no explaining it at all.

But whatever the reason, I think more and more of the sums of what I have made of this life. Today's number topic? Birthdays.

I was talking with my oldest son's partner earlier as she and I were making plans for "The Boy's" upcoming birthday.

Note to Christopher: Quit snooping to find out details! Geez!!

I made an off-handed comment about the number of birthdays I have been given the delight of celebrating because of my boys. Adding them up, 30 for the oldest (counting the one coming right around the corner), 24 for the middle and 22 for the youngest. That's 76 birthdays.

Seventy-six.

McDonald-Land Birthdays. Chucky Cheese Birthdays. Airport Birthdays. Bowling Birthdays. Sleep-over Birthdays. Superhero Birthdays. And more Superhero Birthdays.

That's a lot of parties and cake and presents and loud kids. And it's a lot of love. Throughout all, the smiles remain exactly the same.

Drawing the Line

Drawing a line in the sand. I'm sure we've all done it at some point or other in our lives; maybe when we're ending something... maybe when we're about to being something... Sometimes the line in the sand is to announce to others where you stand in no uncertain terms, sometimes it's to confirm it to yourself. Whatever their reasons or purpose for being created, they are hard to ignore once declared.

In my life I've drawn several lines in the sand. I've ended relationships when they've crossed that line and I've refused to do things because what was being asked went beyond the lines I had drawn for myself. I've also used them often with my children. I used to say to the boys when they were growing up, "we don't have a lot of hard and fast rules in this house but the ones we do have are absolute. Don't cross them." And when they did (which happily they didn't do it often), they knew the line had been crossed and an equal and opposite reaction was about to come (proof that physics comes in handy in real life... Thank you Newton).

Of course, lines in the sand don't have to be threatening in nature. It's not always about "if you do this, I am going to have to do that." Sometimes they are more like yardsticks... benchmarks. I am face to face with one of my classic lines in the sand these days.

Many of the lines I drew as a parent were created more as advise for my boys than direction; I was hoping to offer my perspective on life in tangible, measurable ways that were easy to absorb and hopefully follow. I have often shared my thoughts on relationships here (when it comes right down to it, I talk about little else) and I was equally communicative with the boys. It seems to have worked in one regard because my eldest has thrown one of those "perspectives" back to me recently and my how that came as a surprise. So what's come back to stare me square in the face?

"Don't get married before you turn 30." Something my eldest is about to do in 21 days. Three weeks. Actually, I told them they didn't ever need to get married because, as I used to tell them, "what matters is that you love the person you are with, treat them with respect and accept nothing less from them. But most of all, show them you love them. All the time." Marriages fail every day (been there, done that) and relationships with no legal proof of existence carry on. What matters is love. So my eldest happily reminded me of my "30 Rule" just a few days ago.

He is in a long term relationship with a beautiful gal who I adore as much as I could anyone who is not my own child. My son and I have talked about them getting married so if it happens this week, this month, this year or this decade it would come as no surprise. And of course I'm not so self-involved to think that any one of my three boys has not committed to marriage because of this advise I was always so happy to dole out.

But the reality is that as time marches on, so does the likelihood that my children will marry, have children, establish their own families to nurture and grow. So what's my latest line in the sand? Be happy. Love. Absolutely.

Who's Counting?

It's a funny thing when you are capsulizing your life in broad strokes to someone who doesn't know you particularly well... Skipping the details that make all of your decisions make a bit more sense, you tend to cover the highlight reel, hit the key points that are generally accepted as important but sometimes the story seems more odd than you thought. And you're the one who lived it.

This happened to me recently. Talking about the big relationships I've had in my life, I named three. Partner #1; short, tragic, painful, leaving indelible marks that although faded, pop up every now and again. Partner #2; longer, stable, generally happy relationship that ended in mutual, respectful agreement. And Partner #3; you know all about that one.

There are several ways to interpret this bird's eye view (relationship-wise that is). Some people say you get one true love in your life, someone who will sweep you off your feet and with whom you will, of course, live happily ever after (I blame Disney for this... stupid 'princess being rescued by prince charming' story lines setting little girls up with the notion that a man will take care of them and men with the equally twisted notion that their only role in the plot is to save the woman). Clearly I've messed that one up because after three tries, Disney and I have agreed to disagree.

In Sex and the City, Charlotte decided that we all get two true loves (a convenient conclusion after the failure of her first marriage). Although not a popular view of love, it's an agreeable perspective given most peoples' situations. Still not looking good here because clearly I've over-shot by one.

And then there's the sporting reference. Three strikes, you're out. And like everything sporting, this connotation does not work for me. At all.

So what's left? Am I done? Had my chance, roll up the rug, turn the lights out and start collecting cats? No. I don't buy into that either.

Four. Four leaf clover. Shamrocks. Luck of the Irish.

Now there's an idiom I can get behind!

Summer Love

If you haven’t already guessed by my sudden reappearance, I am on vacation. Another 10 consecutive blissful days without the consistent presence of work pressure and worry inconspicuously furrowing my brow.

I, like most people I know, have certain preparations I make to ensure an enjoyable vacation. I am not travelling far afield choosing instead to stay close to home, recharging by seeing my world through my relaxed vacation eyes. My fridge is stocked with fresh food ready to whip up a snack for one, my beer fridge is equally well-stocked. I have a complete listing of local events and festivals but most importantly, I have my book for the week.

I have found a new love, new only to me. I am very embarrassed to say that prior to the release of the remake of The Great Gatsby this spring, I had never read anything by F. Scott Fitzgerald. But before the release of the movie I thought I should read the book (because as we all know, the book is always better). And now I have fallen deeply, irrevocably in love.

I don’t know what the writing process was like for Francis Scott Key but I’m pretty sure he must have found great comfort and inspiration and happiness in it. How could he produce such beauty if not purely happy while doing it?

I share few things in common with my new love other than we do both seem to like to overindulge in beverages upon occasion (ok, for him I realize that is a tragic understatement) and that he had a love of France, Paris and the French Riviera in particular, equal to mine (but of course with the means to partake regularly which I am, sadly lacking).

This week, rather than cruising the Riviera I will be found at road side farm stands and beaches, restaurant patios and drive-in movies. But no matter where I am, my new love will be with me just in case I need some impromptu inspiration.

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as all things grow fast in movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.”

Hey You!

Dear future Love:

So, how are you doing tonight?  It's that classic day that is universally recognized for love.  We, of course, are not there yet but that's ok.  I'm fine to wait, I'm a patient gal.

A few things to keep in mind for later, if you don't mind me saying.

Preferably red but white is nice in the summer.  Beer when we're playing pool or around the pool, at the game or at the pub.

No horror, slasher, nightmare inducing movies please.  Not big on sci-fi either so sorry, the Star Trek marathon is definitely a guy's night thing.  I'm out.  Just about everything else is good.

Not big on punk, heavy metal, hard-core jazz (how's that for an oxymoron?).  There will be dancing. 

And I'll sing all the time; sometimes very badly, often with the wrong words but it will be a good show. 

I will sleep in every chance I get. Of course, at this stage of the game, that usually means 9:30 so really, that's not too much of a big deal.  Oh, and I arbitrarily switch sides of the bed.  Not really sure where that came from but it's a thing.

I love cooking so you don't need to do much in that department but don't leave me in the kitchen alone... Hang out, have a chat, refill the glasses.  That's all I need to be a happy gal.

Roses are overrated.  Peonies, lilacs, tulips, hydrangeas... Now those are flowers.

You look great... Remind me I do as well once in a while please.  I promise to do the same.

Make me laugh... More than anything, even if you forget everything else make me laugh. 

So, if you don't mind, get on with the introductions would you?  Or declarations. Or advances.  I'll take it from there (oops; sort of blew my "patient gal" cover, didn't I?).

I Heart Whatever

It's that infamous week.  I would say infamous day but the mega-marketing, all-consuming, like-it-or-not global "day" that is Valentine's Day has been blown up into at least a good week of advertising enticements that if you truly loved your partner, sibling, child, neighbour, mail carrier, pet, you would show them by buying some sort of Valentine memento.

Do I sound jaded?  I don't mean to.

But what is it about this non-holiday "holiday" that makes singles feel so badly?  I Googled "holiday" and chose the Wikipedia hit.  This is what Wikipedia defines as a holiday:

"... a day designated as having special significance for which individuals, a government, or a religious group have deemed that observance is warranted."

First off, if I had known I could designate my own holidays, my life (and that of the whole entire world) would be so different!

But really, what are we now defining as holidays or days worthy of global (or at least national) recognition?  Again, back to Wikipedia, "Types of Holidays; Religious, Northern Hemisphere, National, Secular, Unofficial."  And included in that list? New Year's Day, Passover, Independence Day, Earth Day (familiar to us all I'm sure).  But also in the list?  Monkey Day (December 14th), Talk Like A Pirate Day (September 19th, this one I know and have personally observed) and get this, Blasphemy Day (September 30th... WTF?!).

So why don't I feel badly about not celebrating any of the other individually, governmental-ly or secular-ly recognized holidays?   No good reason, I'm sure.  But you can bet your life I'll be celebrating Monkey Day this year.

And FYI, February 12th is Buy New Shoes Day.

Enjoy!

Full

How can it be that when my heart is so full, I have nothing to write?  On a day that is filled with laughter and love and abundance in every way, words escape me.

My Christmas today was filled from beginning to end with my family.... Filled with their conversation and energy and the sounds of their banter that has become the music of my life which makes me the happiest. 

I think that when you feel so filled up with love and give it out, the need for words disappears.

So I will smile.  And be quiet in my joy.

With love

Life has ways of surprising you.

When you write like this you are writing alone.  There is the possibility of having someone with you in a virtual reality but there is no promise of that.  There is the possibility of support or criticism.  Interest or apathy.  But you never know.  I think all you can do is write what you feel, put it to the virtual universe and see what comes back to you.

Today, I received support.  Love.  Kindness. 

Several years ago I got my first (and to this point, my only) tattoo.  It's on my lower back (which I am sad to hear is now referred to as a 'tramp stamp'... I can't tell you how disappointing that is) and it's the Chinese symbol for strength.  I got that symbol in that place for this reason; we all have strength.  It's not always where you can see it but it's there.  It's got your back.  And it's there when you need it.

My beautiful gift today was that along with the strength I have come to rely upon from myself, I am also blessed to have the support of friends who I also cannot see but are as real and true as the ink on my back.  You are my strength too.

I thank each and every one of you.  And I will most certainly talk to you soon.  And often.

We have a lot in common as it turns out.

With love.