The Letter

I was so angry this afternoon after I received an email from one of Piper's teachers indicating that she needed to attend school and finish her assignments.

We had already had a discussion about how many classes she had missed this year, most of them due to the fact that she has suffered from extreme migraines and had trouble acclimatizing to Southern Alberta's strong winds.

With the last few days of school looming, I stressed to her the importance of attending her classes.

It's really hard for me to monitor her going to school as I am at work between 5:00 am and 6:30 am depending on the day.

I go on blind faith in her that she is being responsible and going to school.

Apparently, that's not good enough!

After receiving the email from her teacher asking me to encourage Piper to attend her classes, I felt so embarrassed.

I felt like I was a terrible parent who just let her child do whatever and didn't care one way or another.

I felt ashamed and like I was a failure as a parent.

If only I didn't work so early. 

But then, if I didn't work early, I'd work late and wouldn't be home for her or able to attend her sports games or band concerts, or attend anything the boys did either.

By the time I got home, I was angry and resentful.

I thought of all the ways I could punish Piper.

I even googled for ideas because I'm terrible at punishments.

As I sat down at the computer, I felt the need to write her a letter instead.

In less than five minutes, I wrote her the following letter:

Dear Piper,

I don't know what else to do or say to emphasize what a huge importance Education is.

School isn't an option.

You Have To Attend.

Let's talk about attendance.

Aside from the physical aspect (which I've been hounding at since the middle of your first semester) simply showing up isn't good enough.

In elementary school, you may have been able to skate by doing the bare minimum work because let's face it, learning the rudimentary basics is a lot easier than learning the specifics.

These last years in high school are so important.

Not in the “These are going to be the BEST DAYS of your life” sense but in the,

 

“Dude, outside of these walls is REAL LIFE and you're going to have to face it soon.” sense.

Simply showing up isn't good enough anymore although, in your case it would be a great start!

You need to participate, ask questions, answer questions, do your homework, bring home your homework, study said homework, and be physically, AND mentally tuned in.

I had a grade 8 teacher that would always say: “Silent and Attentive, Grade 8's Tune In.” and he'd draw his pointer fingers together as he said it.

It was annoying.

So Super Annoying.

But I get it now.

I wish I had gotten it then.

Listen,

You don't want to be me.

I don't want to be me a lot of the time.

I listen to you talk and you have all these AMAZING goals and dreams for yourself. 

And I so badly want them to happen.

I sacrifice so much time, money, and myself for you and your brothers but let's face it, mostly you. 

I WANT you to succeed.

I WANT you to be continue to be awesome.

I WANT all of the things you dream for yourself to become a reality – probably more than you want them to become a reality.

You are so Beautiful, Amazing, and Talented.

You are Charismatic, Approachable, and Loveable.

You are EVERYTHING a successful person is.

Don't waste your life floating by.

I don't want you to see your hopes and dreams and goals stay just out of reach.

You need to keep climbing.

I get it, School is hard.

School. Is. Hard.

Not everyone learns the same way.

Not every teacher teaches the same way.

Don't be stubborn, you're old enough to know that the world doesn't always work the way we want it to.

The beauty about being human is we're able to adapt and we learn to adapt.

If-

We decide we want to adapt.

Don't set limitations on yourself.

Don't let others set limitations on you.

Become calculating.

Become plotting.

Decide who you want to be and design your life accordingly.

Become someone of Self Worth.

Know your worth and own it.

Choose your life.

Don't let your life choose you.

I love you.

I love you the same as I did yesterday and I'll love you the same tomorrow.

I'm not really angry anymore. 

Tired.

I'll probably still take away her phone and tablet.

But I do love her.

I love all three of my kids.

I'm sharing this letter because one day, they might read this blog and I want them to know that this letter isn't just for her. It's for them too.

I never chose to be a single parent.

But I did choose to be the best parent that I can be.

Some days, it's easier to do than others.

Getting Out of The Dark

A measurement of how much I have changed over the last 10 months can be surmised in one short midnight chat session on Facebook Messenger.

It started with a concerned inquiry of my well being.
To which I replied all was well on the home front.
Some niceties were exchanged and then came the question:
So are you going back to the church now?
This kind of took me aback.
I'm not a confrontational type person, and this particular kind of confrontation has always made me feel uncomfortable.
I believe that everyone is entitled to their own beliefs and values. As long as you're a person of integrity then I welcome you into my life. I don't care that our belief systems may differ as long as it makes you happy and I'm happy then we can all be happy together.

If the aforementioned question had been asked of me ten months ago, eight months ago -or lets face it, even six months ago I would have either ignored the question, laughed it off, or backpedaled with explanations of my actions.

This time, I didn't do any of those things.
Yes, I go to church.
No, I'm not perfect which is why I'm going to church.

The trouble with changing ones course in life is that sometimes, you end up doing things that people who are familiar with your old patterns aren't used to.

For many personal reasons, I quit going to church.
I felt betrayed and didn't trust the people whom I should have been able to trust.
But that's just it:
The People were the ones I didn't feel right about.
The Church principles that I believe in haven't changed.
It took a really long time (almost 12 years) for me to understand that people are just people.
They're not perfect either and sometimes, they'll make mistakes.

I need this in my life. I lived so many years wandering aimlessly existing but not really living.
I'm not trying to be a hero or anything like that, I just need something to keep me moving.

I'm still learning, and my faith is still growing and some days are a lot easier than other days but it sure is nice to have something to believe in.
As many times as I fail, I'll keep trying again and again because I want to know what it's like...

O Wad Some Pow'r The Giftie Gie Us To See Oursels As Ithers See Us -Robbie Burns

Life is funny. 

I tell myself that a lot even though I don't actually believe that life is as hilarious as I declare it to be.

Increasingly I find life happens exactly the way it needs to be happening at that precise time.

Sometimes that means I fail in areas in which I think I deserve to succeed.

Sometimes I succeed where I think surely I deserve to fail.

Sometimes I try to force success where success shouldn't happen.

Self Analysis has taught me that I do this mostly because I hate to lose.

Losing Sucks.

I think we can all agree on that point.

Unless you're my mom.

My mom doesn't really care whether she wins or loses as long as she's having fun playing the game and no one is fighting.

This Mother's Day, I was on the pleasant end of a few beautifully written messages to me that ironically weren't from my kids 

(cough, cough)

Regardless, the individuals who wrote to me knew nothing of each other yet independently wrote praising me on a quality I wasn't really aware I possess.

In me, each person has recognized an inner strength.

I don't regard myself as a person of strength. 

(Unless we're talking about lifting heavy objects and putting them back down in repetitious sets.)

Case in point: a week ago I embarrassed myself in front of a group of women I have secretly been envious and in admiration of for their endless abundance of talents.

Mortified I wished I could run out of the room, straight home, and bury myself under a pile of blankets only coming up for air on the promise that I never had to set foot out of the house again.

Of course, that wasn't a suitable social grace I could exercise at the time.

Instead, I got to sit whilst it was announced to the room that I had a secret fear of the outside world.

How's that for irony?

That was one of those times where I truly thought I deserved to succeed.

It didn't happen.

I have thought many times over the course of the weekend what deems me worthy of such praise from my friends and family?

What I don't think any of them knew is that they gave me a message I needed to hear this weekend.

Oliver Goldsmith popped into my head with the infamous quote:

"Success consists of getting up one more time than you fall."

I think that goes for the strength of an individual also.

I am so grateful for this reminder from my friends and family.

Thank you for pointing out something that I hadn't really known was there.

I guess if you can believe in me, the least I can do is dust off my jeans and grit my teeth.

Until We Meet Again

If I ever needed to find my Grandma, I knew my best bet was the kitchen.

My Grandma seemed to always be puttering in the kitchen. 

It is because of her inspiration that I chose to cook.

Oh, to one day have the skills she possessed in the kitchen!

Whether she was whipping up a delicious meal or cleaning, or organizing, nine times out of ten she was doing it in the kitchen.

I absolutely loved watching her as she effortlessly and seamlessly concocted her dishes. 

I also loved this time because we would talk. Not just mindless chatter, but she'd talk about real stuff. Things that she worried about, things that made her happy, she'd tell me about my cousins and my siblings and their accomplishments. It was in these moments I felt the most connected - not just to her but to my other cousins whom I didn't/don't see very often.

That's something I really admired about my Grandma. 

She loved her family.

If I had to describe my Grandmother with one word, it would be Peacemaker.

Time and time again I have watched my Grandma make sacrifices for her children and grandchildren.

She was a sounding board when someone needed to vent. The cornerstone of the family, and the anchor that kept everybody grounded.

A favorite place of all of my Grandparents was The Temple. Even when my Grandma was suffering, my mother would still come and take her to the temple. 

I'm reminded of a promise I made to my Grandparents, that I would make it to the Temple.

It's something I've forgotten over the years but this picture really struck a chord.

I intend to honor that promise and I'm sure she already knows I'm well on my way.

I love you Grandma and I can't wait to see you again.

Would I Pray For Paris?

A Prayer for Paris seems to be the catchphrase of the day. Over the course of the last 24 hrs I've seen an array of stunning photographs of landmarks lit with the colors of France's flag. I've read people's remarks both in heartfelt sympathy for a country they have a connection with and then some berating those posters for their ignorance regarding other terrorist attacks in other countries.
It seems to me that lately, people love to hate.
Is it fair that Beruit and Baghdad  have had less media coverage than Paris? Sure it is.
Is it a race issue? I don't think so.
I think unfortunately that Paris, The City of Love is just more of a household name.
Realistically, because of the social media outcry for Paris, the tragedies in these other countries are being brought to the forefront and more people are aware and acknowledging that there is a global issue regarding terrorism.
It shouldn't matter how it's brought to light, it should only matter how it's going to be addressed.
Terrorism is happening. And it's happening everywhere.
Am I going to Pray for Paris?
Heck yes I am- because Paris is the Poster child for what is a worldwide issue.

Starlight, Starbright, first star I see tonight...

When I was little I had a window seat in my bedroom. It probably wasn't a real window seat but I was 8 and could sit comfortably on it with my knees drawn up under my chin. 

Sometimes, I'd write messages to passersby letting them know just how much I loved Jon Bon Jovi. 

But mostly, I'd sit and stare at the stars. I loved how peaceful they made me feel. 

I would imagine that they were the souls of those who had passed on, watching over us as we slept. 

I mean, how great is that? 

Our own personal guardian angels.

As I grew up and let reality take over my life, I realized that this wasn't a real thing.

However, when I see pictures like this:

It reminds me of those precious childhood memories and I can't help but think, maybe it's true.
The realist in me tells me it's not, but my childhood self whispers "just maybe."
And whether it is or it isn't,  I like to think that two more stars are soon joining the sky to watch over, guide, and shine ever so bright.
After all, who wouldn't want to be a star?