I miss her

I’ve been wanting to write a post about religion, and the absence of it in my life.  This is my third attempt.  I can’t put into words how I feel.  I don’t believe in God. I used to.  I’ve been hurt by religion.  I walked away and haven’t looked back.  It’s not as simple as that, but maybe that’s all I need to say about that.

The reason I’ve been struggling with this post for the past week and a half is because today is the 8th anniversary of my friend’s suicide.  It’s such a weird time of year for me, since Mini Moo’s birthday falls less than a week prior to that.  So there’s this huge build up to the kid’s birthday; days, weeks, months of planning the party (I went a bit nuts this year) and what gifts to get and an almost immediate crash into missing my friend even more than normal.

This year it’s even harder for me.  I know someone who’s struggling with suicide.  I don’t know this person well, but someone who’s really important to me knows this person really well.  He’s a young person who doesn’t fully realize the impact suicide has on the people left behind.  I miss my friend all the time.  There are times where it’s so bad, I can’t function properly.  There are times I’m so angry at her that I want to punch things, throw things, destroy things.  I can’t yell at her, so what other option do I have?  Most of all, I miss talking to her.

She was funny, so smart, loved animals, being active, and being with her friends.  She adored her family.  She had her own business.  She was a light.  She struggled with depression and thoughts of suicide.  She had a hard time finding her own identity.  She believed in God, but had a lot of questions that couldn’t be answered.

And now she’s gone.

We can’t ever talk to her over the phone.  We can’t post stupid quizzes on her Facebook wall and find out what flower she is (she’d be a green tulip).  Her family can’t hug her.  Her pain made her blind to all the amazing things she brought to this world, and she took that from us.  I’ll love her forever, and I’ll never stop mourning her death.  But I don’t think I’ll ever forgive her for that moment of selfishness.

I wish I could grab this kid by the shoulders and say, “Don’t you dare!! Don’t you dare deprive the world of all you have to offer! Don’t you dare leave a hole in the hearts of your family and friends that will never be filled!”  I have talked to him about how suicide has impacted me and my friends.  One of my best friends has also talked to him about her own experiences with suicide.  He listens to us, and all the people who are trying to help him, but I worry he doesn’t hear us.

Like with my friend, he can’t see past the wall of pain.  All he knows is that living... that taking that next breath... is just too hard.  He’s convinced that people won’t give a shit if he lives or dies.  He thinks those who love him will move on in no time, and things will be better for everyone around him.

Unfortunately when someone’s in such a dark hole, there’s little that can be said to that person to convince them otherwise.  All we can do is love them, give them as much support and encouragement as we can, and try to show them how our lives are so much richer with them in it.  My life will never be the same without my friend in it.  The same is true for her family and friends.  The same would be true if this kid does the unthinkable.  Many lives will be profoundly impacted by his loss.  I just hope he realizes this before it’s too late.

If you’re in a scary place, please know that you’re not alone.  There are people who are there to help you.  If you feel you can’t talk to your family and friends, there are help lines you can call.  You can go to the hospital.  You can call the police.  You can talk to a teacher or counselor at school.  Please don’t convince yourself that no one will help and please don’t stop asking for help. There will be someone who can help.

If you are thinking of hurting yourself, please call someone for help.
If you suspect someone around you may be suicidal and you don’t know what to do, please call someone for help. 

Below is a list of resources that you can use for help.

Kids Help Phone (Canada)

Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention (Canada)

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (USA)

American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (USA)

Papyrus (UK)

Samaritans (UK)

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For resources close to you, wherever you are in Canada click here
List of suicide crisis lines by country
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If your country isn’t listed, and you would like me to include them on my list, please leave a comment below and I will do what I can to include a national number or resource on this post.

Someone loves you.  Even if it’s someone you don’t know or haven’t met yet.  Trust me in this.


I love you.

That's retarded.

Today, a friend of mine on Facebook shared a wonderful link to another blog.  It wasn't a particularly long post, but it had an impact on me.

How many of you, like me, respond to things we disagree with,don't like, think is awful or just have a negative reaction to with, "That's retarded" or, "That's gay"?  I'm very guilty of using the latter phrase. 

I have a coworker of mine who is an incredibly beautiful man.  He's generous (almost to a fault), funny, kind, hard working, always smiling and just plain awesome.  He's also gay.  For whatever reason, it never occurred to me that when I say "That's gay" that it was hurtful to him.  I was using the word gay as a pejorative, and therefore saying that he is someone to think less of.  Of course I don't mean or even think that.  But I also wasn't thinking of what I was saying. 

One day, he was telling me a story about a weird call he had taken, or some not very happy situation in his life that I was commiserating with him on and said "That's gay".  He just looked at me and said, "Thanks."  Nothing else.  He didn't go off on me, didn't tell me off, didn't call me hurtful things, didn't react negatively in any way.  That's not his style.  He'd sooner gut himself than willingly hurt someone, even if it was in defense of himself.  All he said was, "Thanks." 

There was so much hurt in that single word.  So much disappointment.  So much sorrow.  And I had caused it.  I felt about half an inch tall and immediately apologized for saying that.  There was no excuse for saying it.  All I could do was beg his forgiveness.  Being the amazing guy he is, he accepted my apology and we moved on.  I have tried to be more cognizant of my words since then, but I can't promise that I have never used that phrase or "That's retarded" since.  It's become such an entrenched part of society's (the Western society at any rate) lexicon that we literally don't know what we're saying when we say it. 

Many of my friends have children who have Autism or are on the spectrum or have something in their brains/bodies that keeps them from living like "normal" kids.  A lot of my friends do, in fact.  Never, never would it occur to me to call them retarded.  They're not (not in the way that people think of the word, at any rate - because let's face it, when you hear the word retarded, you're not thinking happy thoughts, are you?  It's a sad, and frankly disgusting reality).  They're some of the most beautiful kids I've had the pleasure of seeing grow up through pictures, stories and videos posted on Facebook and their respective blogs.  They have some of the biggest smiles I have ever seen, and I absolutely love reading stories of them coming to grips with their situation and learning how to cope with it.  When their parents struggle, or when they struggle and their parents vent online, I hurt for them.  When they're over the moon because their child said "I love you." to them, I rejoice with them.

I don't know how or why "That's retarded" and "That's gay" became an accepted turn of phrase but we really need to think about who we are saying that about, and stop saying it.  You wouldn't say "That's so cancerous" or "That's Chinese" as a pejorative, would you?  No, because people who run you out of town for saying something like that.  You'd be labeled at best insensitive or callous, and at worst a bigot or a racist.   Well guess what?  Every time you (and I) say "That's gay" and/or "That's retarded" that's exactly what you are.  An insensitive, callous, bigot. 

Let's end the use of the R word, okay?

Father of Mine

Father of mine
Come talk to me
Father of mine
See what I have come to be
Father of mine
I miss you
Father of mine
Do you think of me, too?
Father of mine
Mom holds my hand
Father of mine
She's with a new man
Father of mine
You have been replaced
Father of mine

I wrote this poem about eleven or twelve years ago when /I was struggling with the relationship I had with my biological father - or lack thereof, really.  A lot has changed since then.  I stopped going to school, got a job, moved out of my parents' house, moved to another city, got another job, met a guy, fell in love, almost died in a car accident, left the guy, moved back to my parents' house, got a new job, met a new guy, fell in love and somewhere along the way, I stopped caring about having a relationship with my biological father.  The most significant change however, was that I had a child.

You change in so many ways when you have a child.  The changes are different for every new parent.  Me, I felt stronger, more focused, less stressed out, more grounded.  those who now me best are probably laughing to themselves a little.  Let's just say... usually I'm less stressed, more grounded, yadda, yadda, yadda. 

One of the most positive changes, I feel, is that I have learned to appreciate my step-father more.  He and my mother have been married for just over 15 years.  He's been a part of our lives for just about 19 years.  Our relationship have been... well indescribable.  For the first few years, we were pals.  Then I entered my teenage years at the same time my kid sister was born.  Now anyone with teenaged daughters know that this is a powder-keg situation just waiting to explode.  Again, anyone with teenaged daughters knows that she will use just about any excuse she can take to explode.  Especially if it means she's going to get her way, or better yet, attention. 

I wasn't a bad kid; I wasn't rebellious, didn't do drugs, didn't get mixed up with the wrong crowd.  I would just get... frustrated at times that my parents (I thought) would get in the way.  Add to that some jealousy towards my kid sister and I would look for someone to blame.  Usually it was my mother who would suffer my teenaged wrath, but there were a couple of memorable times where my step-dad and I would butt heads.

A result of those couple of times was that our initially amicable relationship grew lukewarm; at least on my part.  For his part though, he was really patient.  He was always very aware of the face that a step-father/step-daughter relationship can be very volatile and I guess he knew to wait.

Having a child of my own helped me to realize that my step-dad has always been there for me in exactly the way I needed him to be there.  I have always known that he is a terrific father to my kid sister, but it wasn't until I had my own child that I realized what a great father he has always been to me. 

Everyone knows the adage that any idiot can be a father, but it takes a special man to be a dad.  My biological father may have contributed to my very existence and for that I am forever thankful(though it's my mother to who, I will attribute most of the credit to).  However it is my step-dad I am lucky enough to call Dad (thought it too me a long time to get there).  To  me, that is a wonderful give that I have finally learned to cherish. 

I love you, Dad.  Thanks. 

Dad and I playing hockey, about 16 years ago.

Don't Underestimate the Power of Romance.

Today I was teasing my fiancé about what he should buy me while he’s on his much envied (yet far more deserved) trip to Las Vegas in a couple of weeks with a friend of his.  I said that he should make me a bear at the Las Vegas Build-a-Bear store.  He seemed a bit thrown that I would actually want a teddy bear, at my age.  Later on, I suggested a couple of other things, but then reiterated the idea of a teddy bear saying, “You can never go wrong with getting a woman a teddy bear, regardless of her age.”  He seemed surprised, and perhaps a tad dismayed, that the Vermont Teddy Bear ads were true.  I thought this would be a good idea for a post.

If you’re dating/married to/living with/related to/are crushing on/know a woman, and you want to give her a gift, I’m telling you (from my own personal experiences, certainly I don’t speak for all women) that you will rarely go wrong with a gift of teddy bears or flowers.  Personally, I find both to be super romantic (when given to me by my partner) and super sweet (when given to me by anyone).  You may think, “Teddy bears? Flowers? But they’ve been done before.  She’ll think I haven’t put any thought into it.” But this is not the way to think.  There are so many ways to make tried and true gifts like flowers and teddy bears original, particularly with companies like Build-a-Bear. 

Here are some tips for teddy bears:

1. Use her favourites as a theme: favourite colour, favourite animal, heck favourite sports team!  If you know that she loves the colour yellow, get her a teddy bear (or bunny, dog... whatever) wearing something yellow.  If you know she thinks bunnies are the cutest things ever then get her a stuffed bunny wearing a yellow slicker or something.  If she hates basketball and is afraid of dogs, but you love both, don’t get her a stuffed puppy wearing a basketball jersey.  Basically, personalize the teddy bear so that she knows you are paying attention to the things she likes and doesn’t like and that that matters to you.
2. Softer is better.   There may be women out there who would prefer a coarse sock monkey, but in most cases the softness of the teddy bear is directly correlated to the length and emphasis of the “Aww!” she will give you. 
3. If you can, don’t order the bear online unless you’re planning on getting it delivered to her place of employment or school.  Try to go to a Build-a-Bear or similar store and pick out all the makings of the teddy bear yourself.  A woman who knows that you “built” this bear yourself will be that much more touched about the gift.  If you’re unable to go to a store go to a website that will allow you to customize the bear to your heart’s (or the woman you are giving this to) content. 

Tips for getting her flowers:

1. Like with the teddy bear, find out her favourites.  Favourite flower, favourite colour, a favourite memory associated with certain flowers and get her something along those lines.  These gifts show her that you listen.  If she’s said she loves potted orchids, don’t get her red carnations. 
2. Wait in line, not online.  If at all possible, go to an actual brick and mortar store to get her the flowers rather than ordering from a website.  I would recommend still having them delivered, but, like with the teddy bears, she’ll be much more touched if she knew that you handpicked the flowers yourself, so to speak.
3. Variety is the spice of life.  While you can’t go wrong with the tried and true dozen, long stemmed, red roses, try mixing up the bouquet a bit.  Whenever I get flowers for someone (I love getting flowers for people), I always try to make the bouquet as customized as possible.  I will grab a premade bouquet as a base that calls out to me (and my budget) and then go around the store adding single stemmed flowers and fillers to build the bouquet.  I avoid getting bouquets of the same flower and colour as much as possible.  Unless, of course, I know that that’s what the recipient prefers. 
4. No do-overs.  Again, unless she’s stated a preference otherwise, don’t get her the same flowers every year.  The first year or two it’s cute, but some women (like me, for instance) start to think after a while that you’re not really trying anymore.  It’s one thing if it’s something she says she wants, or if you have a cute memory about the two of you pertaining to that specific type of bouquet.  But if neither of those describe the woman you’re getting the flowers for, or your relationship with her, start getting her different flowers (or something else all together.  I vote for flowers).
5. This is no place for pragmatism!  If she has allergies to specific (or all) flowers, okay fine, but don’t be practical and pragmatic with flowers.  If the objective is to show her your romantic side, getting her carnations (when you know she hates them) because they last longer, is like a bucket of cold water for her.  Let’s face it, you’re not going to get any play with that.

Pro tip #1:  She will likely brag about you to all of her girlfriends for a lengthy period of time following this.  

Pro tip #2:  If you’re married to/dating/living with/crushing on this woman, get it delivered.  Not only will she be able to brag about how amazing and romantic you are to her girlfriends, she gets to brag about you at work.  Women (I know from my own experiences) love to be able to brag about their partners.  Maybe it’s an instinctual thing, maybe it’s Darwinian, or maybe it’s just plain cattiness.  Nevertheless, give her an excuse to brag about you and as often as you can because she remembers the romantic gestures and the support you give her a lot more than she remembers that time you pissed her off about... Jesus... what was I mad at him about last?  I can’t remember.  

Pro tip #3: Don’t forget the card; especially if you’re getting it delivered!  Always remember to include a card with a quick note showing her you care.  Remember all those painfully boring chick flicks she made you sit through?  Remember when she went “Aww” when the hero sent the heroine the flowers?  Remember when she cried when the heroine read out the card he included?  Yeah.  That’s the goal.  

Pro tip #4: Romance doesn’t automatically equal big sweeping romantic gestures.  Sometimes it is, sure, but sometimes it’s an honest moment filled with love.  I remember the first romantic thing my fiancé did and while I won’t go into specifics, because it’s very personal and special to me, all it was was one sentence.   

Don’t let the romance die.  If you just started dating, or you’ve been married for 65 years, just don’t’ let it die. 

Focused on Can'ts

Because of my temporary disability, I am always filling out various forms and having to answer to so many different people.  The question they always ask is: What can't you do right now? This is such a demoralizing question, as it keeps me rooted in that question, because every time they ask me that question, I have to provide updates on what I can’t do.  For the past three months, that’s been what I’ve been focused on.  What I can’t do.  

Here’s the list:

•  I can’t sit for long periods of time.  The length really depends on the position and chair I am sitting in and my willingness/need to put up with the pain.  I can drive for about 30 minutes, but I’m in discomfort from almost the beginning.  By the time I reach 15-20 minutes, I’m in pain.  I can’t really go beyond 30 minutes.  Not without taking heavy duty pain meds, and then it’s a question of safety because of the meds.  Couches I can’t comfortably sit in, however I can lie down on one.  Office chairs, the chairs at my doctor’s office, at physio are agonizingly uncomfortable. 
•  I can’t swim.  The current and instability and resistance are too much for me.  The hot tub helps, but even walking slow and small steps is awful.  If I go to the pool, which my physiotherapists and doctor wants me to do, I’m in so much pain afterwards I can barely move to a few days afterwards.
• I can’t take my kid to the park.  I do, every now and then (I’ve taken him exactly three times in the past three months), because why suffer for my disability?  When we get home, however, I head straight for bed with a heating pad and lots of medication.
•  I can’t walk more than a few meters without help from my cane.
•  I can’t make dinner for my family, unless it’s something really simple and I’ve had a somewhat pain free day (relatively speaking).
•  I can’t sleep without a heating pad, 2 – 4 morphine pills and a pillow between my knees for when I sleep on my side.
•  I can’t walk up or down stairs without hep from my cane.  Slopes or hills? Forget about it. My hips are put in too awkward of an angle.
•  I can’t ride a bike, go hiking, go to the gym or go horseback riding.  Granted, of the things mentioned, I’ve only been to the gym this past year.
•  I can’t stand for too long.  If I do, my hip starts to throb and my legs start to shake.
• I can’t bend over to pick something up.  Not without doing a really slow pirouette and holding on to a wall or table or something to keep me from falling and to aid me in getting back up.
• I can’t pick up my son. I can’t bend over to give him a hug, or kiss him goodnight.  He needs to climb up on my bed so that I can give him his night time kisses, puppy noses, snuggles and hugs.
•  I can’t afford my bills, or to send my son to daycare so he can hang out with his friends, or to buy little treats for me or my family.  I’ve exhausted most of my options in regards to financial assistance, and am still waiting to see if I’ll be accepted for Long Term Disability.  My fiancé has taken on basically all of the household expenses.  Without him, I’d be pretty screwed right now.
•  I can’t go on vacation this year.  All year since my fiancé got his new job, I’ve been looking forward to going to Las Vegas in the fall with him again.  He took me in 2006 when I was pregnant, and I’ve always wanted to go again with him.  As I go more and more days not working, the dream of actually getting a vacation this year got dimmer and dimmer until all hope of being able to go has been completely snuffed out.  I’m quite bummed out by this.  I try not to dwell on this one too much, but it’s pretty difficult not to. 
•  I can’t plan my wedding this summer. I had been working (with the help of my fiancé) very aggressively on getting rid of a personal debt I had, and I was so freaking close to having it completely paid off.  Once I had accomplished this goal, we were going to start planning our wedding.  I was getting so excited at the prospect of finally sitting down with him and fleshing out a plan.  The longer I stay off work, the more I start to wonder if a wedding is going to happen at all.  It certainly won’t be in the next year.  Not with me not working.  That’s quite depressing.

There are other things on this list, but I’m not able to think of them right now.  The ones I mentioned are the big ones.  The ones I’m faced with almost every day.  My world is all about can’ts right now.  Every day I struggle with depression as I start to see more and more can’ts.  Some days aren’t so bad, some days are scary.  It helps knowing I have allies.  It helps knowing that my fiancé is standing by my side, fighting for me to get better, or to at least make our lives as liveable and as enjoyable as possible with the circumstances presented to us.  It helps knowing that my mom, particularly bad days, is willing to drop everything and just come be an anchor for me; a port in the storm, if you will.  

The more I think about it, actually, the more I realize that I have quite a few ports in the storm.  I am actually quite fortunate.  I’m not so bad off that I’m completely unable to fend for myself.  I’m surrounded by a strong support network; there are a number of people who are willing to help me out.  I still have a roof over my head and food in my fridge.  I live in a country that makes my several trips to the doctor possible.  

I try to keep thinking positive, but with so much negative events appearing in my life in the last 10 (not able to work for a month; fiancé getting laid off; getting injured again, preventing me from working for over 3 months now; getting rear-ended, having my wallet stolen) it’s a lot easier said than done. 

Regrets

How do you handle regrets?  I know you have them; everyone does.  Obviously, we all try to go through life making sure we don't have any, and many of us believe that we don't have any regrets.  I understand why.  They take up too much time and too much energy if we really start to think about and focus on our If-only-I-had's, shoulda's and I-wish-I-could-go-back-and's but really how do you handle your regrets?

If pressed to reveal my biggest regrets, I could easily name two.  No, three.  The first regret is waiting as long as I did to reconnect with my biological father.  It was only a few weeks after my family and I had told him that I'll be visiting him and his parents for a little bit in our upcoming trip to Europe that summer that my grandfather passed away.  It rocked me to my core, and I felt that had I tried to reconcile with my father a year earlier, I might have had some time to see my grandfather one last time.  I was only 15 at the time, and as I get older I recognize that it was not in any way my responsibility to try to rebuild a relationship with my father and that my grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins could have tried to keep in touch with me rather than hiding behind my father's shame.  I have no relationship with my father, again, which pleases me greatly as he is a poison in my life.  But I still wish I had been given a chance to see my grandfather again.

My second big regret is not seeing my friend while she was in palliative care.  She was diagnosed with cancer in the fall and died shortly before the following summer.  I had a lot of joyous memories of her as a child and I hated the idea of seeing her with but a few breaths left in her.  I was a coward.  There's simply no other way to put it.  Yeah, I was still just a kid - not quite 20 years old - but she was my butterfly, and I couldn't stand the last memory of her being one without her wings.  As you can tell, I'm still having a hard time coming to grips with this one.  I think it might be the irony that's getting to me.  I didn't want my last memory of her to be one of her sitting on her death bed, and instead my last memory of her is my cowardice.  I could have sat by her side, held her hand, laughed with her, cried with her and told her how much I loved her.  I traded that in for wishing I could do all of that. 

My third, and perhaps deepest regret is hurting someone who was nothing but good to me.  He gave me his heart, and I did not treat that gift with the respect it deserved.  I was too in love with the romance that was offered to see that he wasn't the man - through no fault of his own - I was supposed to be with.  I'm with that man now; we have a beautiful family and every day I get to wake up next to him is like a gift from the stars, but I regret that in the process of discovering this love that I have now I wound up hurting someone who didn't want anything but to be that man for me. 

Getting back to my original question of "How do you handle your regrets?", there's nothing I can do about the first two regrets of my life except maybe talk about it when given the opportunity so that people who may see themselves faced with a similar situation don't make the sames mistakes I made.  As to the last regret, I've recently emailed the person in question and apologized to him.  Whether or not he chooses to forgive me, is entirely up to him.  Frankly, I didn't email him to ask for it.  His potential decision to ignore me, berate me, or absolve me of my sins doesn't hold much interest to me.  Perhaps that sounds cold, but I felt the most I can do on my part (and really, the only thing I should) was to offer up my sincerest apologies, without any explanations or rationalizations or hope for any sort of response in kind.  I'll let the fates decide what things may come.

If you have regrets, don't let them fester.  Really take the time to see if there's some way you can address these regrets head on.  Don't think of it as focusing on the past, but of getting rid of the gorilla on your shoulder, as my chiropractor would say.  Don't let it weigh you down.  Maybe you won't be able to get right of the gorilla, but you might at least be able to make it one of them little wind up clapping monkeys.