Balancing Wants And Needs
January 16, 2012 § 2 Comments
Kids these days!
That phrase that every generation uses came to mind when my friend Rita remarked on Facebook that, “Nine-year-olds have a Blackberry, an iPad, a laptop, and a Facebook account. When I was nine, I felt cool with my new markers.”
In fact, I have heard people in their 20s utter the opening remark I did in reference to their teenager counterparts. We have a tendency to compare ourselves to previous cohorts.
My friend’s statement was amusing on one hand but also provided pause for thought.
It sounded a lot like the age-old adage from my parents’ generation. You know the one. “We had to walk 10 miles to school uphill both ways in bare feet at 40 below.”
On the other, it’s very true we have increasingly changed kids’ expectations as to what they have, what they want and what they need – and at what age. Many children now think it’s a must they will have all the above-mentioned gadgetry and more.
I certainly can see the merits of nine-year-olds having a simple cell phone for safety sake and a computer relevant to their capacity to use one. As for the rest of the “stuff” most kids have now, the more we heap on them, the more they expect.
There’s a general tendency to feel entitled and, therefore, largely ungrateful.
One of the other commenters on my friend’s post mentioned that when she was age nine she “went outside and did stuff.”
Another remarked that she amused herself doing wheelies with her roller blades.
Rita chimed back in with this ditty: I used to tape my favourite songs from the top 30 countdown each week by putting my tape recorder right up to my radio speaker and shushing everyone around me to shut up and not make any noise cuz they would ruin my recording of “Hurts so Good” by John Cougar!!! Good times, people! Let’s hold onto those memories no matter how digital our world gets!!
Times were simpler when I grew up, too, and we certainly learned how to entertain ourselves, often outside. In my own case, it was at a time when there was only one television channel and only a handful of radio stations from which to choose.
The first cassette and record players I used belonged to my parents. At age nine, I was collecting hockey cards as a hobby. I have a stamp collection somewhere in storage. In this age of electronic age, there are likely kids who have no idea what the postal system does.
The once-popular Etch-a-Sketch would be considered an antique. It’s the latest version of Xbox that’s a must.
As my son, Peter, was growing up, we tried to find a balance. Every year, he received the latest NHL game for our desktop computer, a far departure from the tabletop game we had as kids, though we also bought one of these “old fashioned” devices for he and I to use.
We learned early on that after Christmas, a lot of the things he’d received became clutter as he concentrated on the few favourite gifts. We also determined that there would be no point of buying the fanciest compact disc player because he had a penchant for dropping them on the swimming pool deck during swim meets.
We still have his dinosaur collection, his Harry Potter books and plastic tubs of Lego.
I don’t want to come across as a curmudgeon. In today’s workplace, mastering technology is a must so young people need to arrive confident and adept with the latest electronic bells and whistles.
However, it’s incumbent on parents to recognize there’s a balance to be reached at Christmas and other gift-giving occasions.
While the job site will expect you can handle the technological side of the work, your employer will also expect you will be able to work collaboratively with others, to communicate effectively verbally and in written form, to deal with people from a variety of backgrounds, and to be able to work independently and as part of a team.
This means the most adaptable people are still those who can think for themselves, the ones who know how to deal with people face-to-face and individuals who can appreciate the simpler things in life, even if that’s enjoying a book on the latest electronic reading device.
I would encourage parents to consider just how much their kids need and whether what they’re purchasing is age appropriate. Consider taking them to live theatre at an early age so they gain an appreciation of entertainment that doesn’t require multi-million dollar budgets and computer-generated imagery.
Look for opportunities for them to learn without them realize they are doing so.
As always, it’s about seeking balance between wants, needs and what is desirable.
Putting The I In Christmas
December 12, 2011 § 4 Comments
Image via Wikipedia
It’s that time of year again – the season that begins with festive décor emerging in the stores early in the fall and ends with many people making pledges they won’t keep.
Christmas time means something different to everyone. I’m not going to rant about the over-commercialization and out-of-control spending of the season. That becomes obvious in January when the credit card bills arrive.
Although I was raised in the Church where they celebrate “true meaning of Christmas” tradition, I’m also not the person to write on that topic. Still others in society don’t celebrate the season at all for religious reasons.
Kathleen Smith, a friend in Edmonton, provided food for thought in a recent Facebook status update. It helped underline that Christmas is really an individual thing.
Kathleen wrote: “Let hope fill our hearts. Shine a light through the dark. All around the world and everywhere, this is my Christmas prayer.
“Yes, I know I’m a self-proclaimed Atheist, but it’s CHRISTMAS for heaven’s sake! ;-).”
Although I consider myself a small ‘c’ Christian, Kathleen’s remarks resonated with me, so here was my response:
“Then that is what your season is about: giving thanks, spreading joy and hope, using the holidays to spend much-deserved time with family and friends.”
“Thank you, David 😉 That’s exactly what it is for me,” Kathleen responded.
“Although I was raised in the Church, the season is all about family and friends and taking me time. I can’t stand all the commercialism,” I replied.
Kathleen responded with: “This is the one time a year I allow my crusty, hard old broad exterior to crumble. I believe in Christmas; its message of peace and love and family. Christmas reconnects me with humanity, disconnects me from being jaded and bitter.”
I remember very few individual gifts but have many special memories of the holiday season. You will notice a trend amongst my highlights.
There was 1984 when my car was out of commission, having been hit just a few days before Christmas. My friends Darrell and Kathy Skidnuk, who were travelling to Edmonton to visit family, gave me a ride so I could spend the holidays with Joyce.
We whiled away the time rockin’ out to tunes with me in the backseat using the snow brush as an air guitar.
For Christmas 1985 (a green Christmas … yayyyy), Howard Elliott, publisher of the Daily Herald-Tribune, and his wife Pearl, hosted all the orphans from the paper (those who had no family in town and were not travelling for the holidays). The following year, Joyce and I did the honours at our apartment.
Joyce and I were reminiscing about that holiday celebration just the other day, particularly the food involved. One of the guests prepared a most memorable crab bisque.
For Christmas 1987, our first in Sault Ste. Marie, the best thing was that Joyce arrived just in time to join me for the Big Day. We’d had to live apart about a month as we made the transition from Alberta to Ontario.
Christmas 1989 was our first with Peter. We didn’t put up a tree that year with a toddler just beginning to roam. Between him and Sammi, our first dog, we thought the ornaments would be in jeopardy.
We used a poinsettia on the coffee table as a tree.
Christmases between 1991 and 2006 were shared with our friends Jeni and Jim Rice and their daughters, Erin and Mackenzie. Neither couple had family in the community so we became the next best thing, taking turns hosting each year. A couple of times, Jeni’s parents joined in from Pennsylvania. Jim’s mom came up a few times from Toronto. Once, my brother Dennis visited from Edmonton.
Our first Christmas with the Rices illustrated why we were as good as family. Jeni underestimated the time to cook the huge bird she’d purchased and dinner was delayed until about 8 p.m. No worries, we had plenty of snacks and wine.
Speaking of making spirits bright, Jeni’s dad, Bill, poured the best glass of scotch! It was always a highlight guessing what fruit combination Jim would come up with for his sumptuous pie.
This year, we will be visiting Peter in Edmonton, getting down to the provincial capital a couple of days ahead of the World Junior Hockey Championship. We have tickets to five games.
Notice how none of these memories involve gifts wrapped with care under the tree? I also didn’t insist we put the ‘Christ’ in Christmas. All my favourite festive thoughts revolve around family, friend and food.
While Kathleen is an atheist and I am a believer, we both agree that this time of year is about celebrating the good things in life, remembering family and friends near and far, looking after the less fortunate, and looking forward with hopes the world will be a better place.
I think that is what Christ would want.
Regardless of how you feel about the season, I wish you all the best for a safe and joyous season. All the best for a healthy and prosperous 2012.
Living to Leave a Legacy
November 14, 2011 § 5 Comments
Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/nishanthjois/4350003635/
A few weeks ago, a friend of mine was in the midst of trying to figure out what her role in life is, her place in the world.
I don’t think I’ve ever determined the answer to these questions, with certainty, for myself, let alone be able to suggest to someone else what their destiny might be.
On one hand, it would be easy to get overwhelmed if we are really meant to find a way to stand out amongst the billions of people on the face of the earth. On the other, George Bailey (played by James Stewart) in It’s A Wonderful Life learned that all the lives of those around him would change without him.
Therefore, I think it’s more worthwhile to consider how we can make our mark closer to home than examine ourselves on the world stage.
We can get great satisfaction out of volunteering in our community. I certainly have in many organizations and my son’s schools over the years.
Are we making special contributions in the workplace, like serving on committees? Are we challenging ourselves on the job itself? If someone were to ask our colleagues about us when we move on to another job, what would they really say?
How do our friends and family view us?
A few weeks ago, Jordan Skidnuk, son of Kathy Skidnuk Stoughton and the late Darrell Skidnuk, reported on Facebook that he’d received word that he is the youngest athlete to represent Canada at the 2012 Boston Marathon. I was really touched by the tribute he made to his dad, in the process.
Darrell, who lost his long bout with cancer in April 2004, was a consummate friend, parent and husband. He gave it his all to everything he participated in. And he was involved in a lot.
Jordan left no doubt about the influence of his father.
“This is a dream come true, I have never worked so hard for something in my life. This one is for you Pops, always with me every step of the way in spirit. Thanks so much to every person that came to watch a race, or encouraged me when I thought that this was impossible.”
As parents, we can hope to achieve nothing greater. I am sure Darrell, who also ran about 20 races, was smiling up there in the sky.
Legacies come in all forms and lengths.
In acknowledging the deaths of long-time community builder Bill Bowes and four teens killed in a car crash in late October, Grande Prairie Mayor Bill Given noted we are all capable of leaving a legacy, regardless of our age.
Mr. Bowes, who died at age 86, was instrumental in the development of the Daily Herald-Tribune, along with his brother, Jim. He was also a well-known Rotarian, instrumental in the success of the 1995 Canada Winter Games, the growth of the Grande Prairie Storm hockey club, and was active in the chamber of commerce.
In 2009, he received the Alberta Order of Excellence.
The four teens were members of the Grande Prairie Composite High football team. Their Warrior team-mate remains in Edmonton hospital with severe injuries.
The outpouring of sympathy and support for the families and the team came from near and far. Their story hit the national news.
Mayor Given noted that, in death, the legacy of the teens is that the community has been forged together stronger.
The bottom line is that whether someone is 15 or 86, they are capable of making a difference – that might be at the neighbourhood level or community wide. Only a handful of people rise to prominence on the national or world stage.
Encounters of the homeless kind
November 7, 2011 § 2 Comments
Image via Wikipedia
Over the summer I spent some time with someone who lived on the streets for a few months of his youth. Talk about time spent expanding my comfort zone. That experience challenged me to look at the streets of Calgary in a new way, and at the people who currently occupy them, from people in suits walking to work to people pushing shopping carts from one dumpster to the next.
It’s true that we’re afraid of the things we don’t understand. I don’t understand the world of the homeless, and admittedly, on the whole, it frightens me. I have a hard time even beginning to wrap my head around how they got there and why they’re choosing to stay there (there’s an entire other argument to be made, I’m sure, on whether or not it’s a choice).
Today I met one of the nicest, most friendly people I’ve ever met on the streets of Calgary. Yes, on the streets–that is, after all, where he lives. Well, technically he calls a city park home.
I’ve spoken with him before. Last time he was telling me about how lucky he felt because someone thought to drop off a new blanket for him. I didn’t think to ask him his name at the time. Just politely conversed in return while I finished transferring my recyclables from my car to the large green bins. I remember him also saying how he had found a radio. The music was playing from somewhere nearby where I imagine he had found an outlet to power it. When I was done, he bade me good day and off I went without another thought to this man by the recycling bins.
I was out for lunch at Local 510 one day over the summer with some colleagues. We were eating on the patio and this guy walked up to our table and asked us for some money. He was near tears and told us he had HIV and that his parents had kicked him out onto the street. He was trying to raise enough money to find shelter. Skeptically, we all fished out some money for him. After he left, one colleague leaned in and said “I’m pretty sure I recognize that guy. He hangs out around 17th Ave a lot.” Is his story true? Who knows. Maybe parts of it are.
There’s also the guy who sits on a crate downtown day in and day out. I’ve passed him several times, but I’ve never stopped. The last time I walked by him, I spotted a loaf of bread tucked under his crate. Is that what this man eats every day? Where does he come from? Where does he go at nightfall? And why does he do nothing more than sit on that crate? Only in my last couple of trips by him did I make eye contact and smile. Why was that such a hard thing for me to do?
Today, I was back at the recycling bins. As I opened the door to my car, I heard a radio playing. I stepped out and saw someone rummaging around the bins like last time.
As I approached with my recycling he turned around and said “Hello! How’s your day going?”
“Fantastically! Thank you. How is yours?” I replied.
“Oh, I’m having the most amazing day! I slept until 2:10 this afternoon.”
“Really? That must’ve felt nice! I haven’t been able to sleep that long into the day in quite some time.”
“I don’t usually get that much sleep either. This was the first time in five years I’ve slept that long! And man did it ever feel great!”
And so on we conversed while I finished unloading my car. Another fabulous thing about his day was that one of the garbage men had given him a garbage picker. It was a metal rod with prongs attached to the end and a handle he could squeeze to bring the prongs together. He even did a demonstration of it for me, picking up bottle caps, bottles and bits of paper from the ground. Works wonders for reaching inside the bins too.
It was at this point that he paused long enough for me to ask him an important question.
“What’s your name?”
He looked up and said “My name’s Bart.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Bart. I’m Wendy.”
He smiled and kept talking. I learned that the park is his home. He takes great pride in keeping it clean. “You won’t find any garbage around here, no sir! I make sure I pick up every last bit of paper to keep the area looking clean. I hate dirty things. It’s not like the recycling centre over by the grocery store. That one’s a mess! People put stuff everywhere,” he paused. “Well, actually, it’s not the people bringing the recycling in. It’s all the pickers. They just don’t care. But me? I care.”
Last summer I went to find a geocache with another friend of mine. The one we picked to search out was in this very park. As we explored the shrubbery along the backs of the houses, I remembered seeing a sleeping bag up in a tree. I wondered now if it belonged to this gentleman.
After a spell, he said, “Well, you’ve probably got other places to be. I’ll let you go. Have a nice day!”
I got into my car, drove home, and haven’t stopped thinking about the whole encounter all evening.
I can’t get it out of my head just how happy he was to have a tool that made his job easier and how proud he was to be keeping the park clean. As I was pulling away, another man drove up to bring in his recycling and Bart started up again and asked “Hello! How’s your day going?” All with the same warmth and another big smile.
*Names used in this post are fictional… well, except mine.
The Retirement of Excellence
October 17, 2011 § 6 Comments
I was once moved and inspired by the excellence statement that circulated through ATCO from RD Southern, the company’s chairman. It goes a little something like this:
Excellence…
“Going far beyond the call of duty.
Doing more than others expect.
This is what excellence is all about.
It comes from striving, maintaining
the highest standards, looking after the
smallest detail and going that extra mile.
Excellence means caring. It means
making a special effort to do more.”
I left ATCO nearly a year ago, and the spirit behind this quote sticks with me. But, I heard someone else recently talking about a commitment to excellence. And I couldn’t help but feel the term is losing its significance. If you remember way back when David and I started this blog, we were talking about the meaning of words and which ones to ban from our vocabularies. I am hereby banning the word “excellence” from my vocabulary. Instead, well, instead.. I’m just going to be awesome.
Blasphemous! I know. Here’s the thing. Excellence to me has come to mean perfection and perfection is unattainable on a large scale. The perfect mix of life’s ingredients for me is not the ideal mix for you. It’s just not applicable when it comes to a larger picture.
Awesomeness, on the other hand… well, now we’re getting somewhere. Awesomeness isn’t stodgy, it’s more fluid. And it’s a word I use all too often. But it rings true with me, and it’s the first word out of my mouth when I thoroughly enjoyed something. Speaking of enjoyment, there’s another key word. Excellence is a measurement. Awesomeness is an experience. We’re not looking for the destination anymore, we want to LIVE every part of the journey.
Life is nothing more than the sum of our experiences… and at the end of mine, I’d like to look back with a smile and think “Holy shit, that was AWESOME!”
If I may:
Awesomeness…
Living life beyond the mundane of the everyday
Doing everything you can to stretch your comfort zone.
This is what awesomeness is all about.
It comes from an open mind, and open heart, maintaining
The highest commitment to self and to community and family,
Looking upon every day as a new adventure and thinking the stars are within reach.
Awesomeness means living for today. It means
Being with those you love, doing what makes you happy
And approaching everything not only with a commitment to service and quality,
But with a desire for joy, fun and life.
Live long, be well, be loved.
The Power of the Human Spirit
October 10, 2011 § Leave a comment
It’s a balmy Thanksgiving Saturday in Goderich, Ontario. I’m on holidays. We’ve just finished picking wild apples near my brother-in-law Jim’s house. Many family members would be gathering for dinner the next day. Life couldn’t be much better.
Yet my eyes were welling up with tears.
Joyce and I’d just toured the renowned town square where the majority of the damage occurred during the Aug. 21 tornado, which miraculously left only one human casualty. We were in the community to attend the Out of the Storm concert, an event to raise funds to support rebuilding efforts.
It will take years for the town to return to its full former splendour. I’ve always thought of it as a most charming place. Goderich was long ago dubbed the Prettiest Town in Canada by Queen Victoria.
It took just seconds to wreak havoc in this community of 8,000 residents on the shore of Lake Huron, leaving many businesses out of commission for an indefinite time and leaving numerous century-old buildings in ruins.
Lots of grand old trees were uprooted and had to be removed.
Only 45-minutes’ drive away in Ripley, my mother-in-law reported seeing only a few rain drops and a dark cloud.
Elsewhere in the path of the tornado, homes were severely damaged or destroyed.
This was the second tragedy I’ve had close contact with this year. In mid-May, a wildfire destroyed about one-third of the Town of Slave Lake, Alberta, and threatened other nearby communities, prompting response by the Grande Prairie Regional Emergency Partnership, of which I am a member.
My demeanour picked up as the music began. Rock and roll and blues are my two favourite genres of music so while the circumstances for the concert were unfortunate I was glad to be there to support the cause.
I also couldn’t help feeling uplifted when I saw the spirit of the volunteers and the T-shirts being sold as part of fundraising efforts.
One read: FU F3, representing the resolve of residents to reconstruct in the face of Mother Nature’s devastating winds.
Another proclaimed: Twisted … Not Broken.
The concert drew thousands of locals and visitors and featured 12 hours of music with scheduled acts including the Downchild Blues Band, the Arkells, Matthew Good, Salads with Choclair, Serena Ryder and Texas Flood. The Province of Ontario is matching funds raised on a two for one basis.
There were numerous vendors, a silent auction and a children’s area.
Organizers did an incredible job in pulling the concert together in such a short time. An event of this kind would normally take months to stage.
On this Thanksgiving weekend, I couldn’t help but feel fortunate to have never faced tragedy such as what occurred in Goderich or Slave Lake first hand. I’m amazed at how the human spirit can respond in the face of adversity.
It’s inspiring how people in these two communities are picking up the pieces – literally.
During a video tribute at the concert, Mayor Delbert Shewfelt proclaimed: “We will rebuild. We will be stronger than ever.”
There is no doubt Goderich, Slave Lake and other communities struck by catastrophes will be like phoenixes rising because of the determination of people to overcome their circumstances.
One of the songs during the Downchild Blues’ set was, I’ve Got Everything I need (Almost).
With the drive behind the people of Goderich and Slave Lake, all they need is time.
Being An Instrument Of Change
September 26, 2011 § 2 Comments
In the days since the 10 year anniversary of 9/11, I’ve been pondering what has changed over the last decade and how I should lead my life accordingly.
I’ve returned to Alberta to work, my son has grown up and moved to Edmonton, we have a different dog and changed vehicles a couple of times. New friends have been made and I have less hair and what’s left is sprinkled with what I call Arctic Blond (grey).
The cell phone I said I would never get in the first place has been replaced by a Blackberry (but since it belongs to my employer, I can say I didn’t personally get sucked further into the technology vortex). While the Internet was well into development in 2001, we were not bombarded with the networking platforms like Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn we are now.
On a global level, we have security levels never before seen so travelling by air or crossing international borders is not as easy as it once was. There was once an ad campaign about not leaving home without a specific credit card. Now, a passport is mandatory for even travel within Canada.
Going to a sporting event or concert is no longer as convenient with backpacks and purses being searched.
More terrorist acts have occurred though none of them have caused the death tolls incurred on that grave day in September 2001.
The world has been ridden of terror lords such as Osama Bin Laden and Saddam Hussein. There are many others to take their place.
As much as the world is on higher alert, it is hard not to be numbed by the bad news on the nightly news, in newspaper and, increasingly, social media.
The phrase, “If it doesn’t bleed, it doesn’t lead” is very much in vogue when it comes to following the news.
However, while there has been change in the last 10 years – including some for the good such as no smoking legislation spreading to restaurants and bars in our country – one thing that has not changed is my love for life and desire to connect with like-minded people.
As individuals, we can be instruments of change. When you think of it, the dictators mentioned above or numerous others ranging from Idi Amin to Adolph Hitler and Baby Doc Duvalier have been able to rise to power. They made a difference, didn’t they?
But so did Mother Teresa, Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr.
So many people believe they can’t have an impact so they do nothing. Far too few get involved in their community, even in their child’s school activities or help to manage academic performance in collaboration with teachers. Then they seem surprised when Johnny or Mary can’t read effectively when they are about to graduate.
When I see that 61.4 per cent of Canadians voted in this spring’s election, I feel like asking anyone who complains about what the federal government is doing whether they voted. Just one in four voters cast ballots in last fall’s municipal election in Grande Prairie.
I’m not here to preach. There is more all of us can do. But when I see people not voting in droves, the apathy is chilling. How is it dictators in other parts of the world manage to rise to power? I do know that people in other countries are dying for the right to vote.
Our purpose in life should be to pass on lessons learned to the next generation so they don’t repeat the mistakes of the past – or if they do, they do so knowing the consequences.
I grew up in a dysfunctional home. I vowed my son would not follow suit. Now that he has grown, he has the choice to heed the direction of his parents and teachers or make his own choices.
And he will. My hope is that he and his peers take up the torch and improve the world for the next generation.
Every action does counts.
Most often, we just have to look in the mirror, like this quote from actress Lily Tomlin suggests: “I always wondered why somebody doesn’t do something about that. Then I realized I was somebody.”
So, while the world has gotten smaller and everything moves faster, one thing that hasn’t changed is our opportunity to make changes, big or small.
The Blended Family
August 29, 2011 § 9 Comments
As of 2001, there were more than half a million stepfamilies in Canada*. If you ever would’ve told me I’d find myself as part of one, I never would’ve believed you. I had a mom, a dad and a brother. For all intents and purposes, our family seemed like every other. We ate dinner together, spent family holidays travelling between one set of grandparents or another, my mom or dad would drive us to our various sporting events and activities. Nobody fought (except for Wayne and I, but it’s what siblings are supposed to do!) No one seemed unhappy.
I remember driving home for Thanksgiving in my second year of university with my mom. On the way home she said she had something to tell me. “Your father and I are separated,” she disclosed. “But he’ll be there for Thanksgiving dinner.” Separated? The word rung loudly in my ears the rest of the way home. What? Why? How?
To find myself, at 19, facing parents who were separated, who might potentially get a divorce, seemed ludicrous. My brother and I were no longer at home, which meant they’d already made it through the hard stuff, right?
I won’t pretend to understand the ins and outs of a marriage, I’ve never been in one after all. Nor will I attempt to dissect the various elements that may or may not have led to their separation. That’s not my role in this story. Nono, my role is the one of the daughter. The one who lost her only brother seven some odd years ago and somewhere along the line found herself with six stepbrothers and stepsisters. Yes, six! Let’s not forget the four stepnieces and one stepnephew. A little overwhelming perhaps? Potentially.
Not long after my parents split up, I remember heading to a party with Wayne. On the way there, he turned to me and asked:
“Did Mom and Dad splitting up surprise you?”
“No,” I replied, “I kind of saw it coming.”
“It sure surprised me.”
That’s the only bit of conversation him and I ever had on the subject. Wayne was about 4 years ahead of me in school, you see. And so he hadn’t been at home in the end. Not that anything bad had happened during that time, but after a bit of reflection, it was obvious to me that my parents had drifted apart long ago. Wayne wasn’t home for that part. No wonder it caught him by surprise.
Fast forward to 2004, I’m pretty sure both of my parents had started dating their current partners by then. Neither of their partners got to meet Wayne, which is unfortunate. It’s an opportunity I wish everyone could’ve had. Though sometimes bull-headed, and frankly, a bit of a jerk at times, I think all of y’all would’ve really enjoyed him. Damn was he funny. But, this post isn’t about him, no, in this post he’s merely a part of a larger story.
It’s hard to put into words the turmoil of emotions I felt from that point and into the coming years. The relationships each of my parents were in continued to evolve. I met the children of each partner. I played along, met the new stepsiblings and hung out with them on special occasions, like Christmas. They were nice. But it’s hard to get to know new siblings as a young adult. Especially when I couldn’t help but feel like I’d be forgetting my real sibling if I let the others in too much.
Over the last couple of years, I’ve bonded with my stepsister and one of my stepbrothers on my mom’s side. My stepbrother has even come house boating with my cousins and I the last couple of summers. He’s also doing a decent job of stepping up as a big brother, complete with the harassment I’ve been missing! My two “wicked” stepsisters on my dad’s side, well, they’re both married with kids and in a phase of life I’m still not in. It’s a bit harder to relate to them. But they’re a fun pair and it’s difficult not to enjoy myself around them.
Throughout it all, I’ve felt like the only person not quite ready to move on. My family had been split apart and I had lost the only person who would’ve possibly known what it was all like. The only one who would’ve still been with me in the other family, the one that fell apart. For a long time, I felt like I didn’t have a place. I was on the outskirts of both sides, but not a true member of either. My best friend and her family, and my cousins back in Saskatchewan became the consistencies I clung to for stability while the rest of my world shifted and tilted around me. For even a grown up child needs stability somewhere in her life when what she’s always known is in a gargantuan state of flux.
A few weeks ago, my dad and my stepmom made things official by tying the knot. At the wedding, I stood up for my dad and my stepmom’s two girls stood up for her. If you were watching me closely during the ceremony, you’d have seen a great many tears in my eyes. But they were a mixture of emotion. Emotion in memory of the sibling that was missing, the one that was a stranger to this new family, but also a strong sense of belonging. There was a new family being formed, and just like my two stepsisters, I’ve got an equal part to play.
After the wedding, one of my stepsisters came over and said that one of my stepnieces had whispered to her as she looked carefully around the room: “Mommy, I know who my new Auntie is… it’s Wendy.” Nieces and nephews? I never thought I’d have any. Now there are five of them. And one of them already thought to call me Auntie. It’s a weird feeling… yet a wonderful one.
My dad’s speech at the wedding was short. He may have uttered 3 or 4 words more than this, but in essence, he said, “Thank you for making this easy.” I think the fact that it was a very gradual transition, that they’d both raised some pretty wonderful kids (am I right?), and that him and my stepmom are just so gosh darned happy are what made it easy.
As the days have ticked past since the wedding, it’s been settling in on me just how permanent this new family is. It’s legal. It’s binding. My signature is on the marriage license as a witness to prove it. I experienced the creation of a new family, my new family. That might just mean it’s okay to open my heart and my life to these new people. It’s okay to move past the family and the brother that were, because it and him are still a part of me. And now, there are that many more people to love me, and me them.
Don’t Shop Til You Drop
August 22, 2011 § 7 Comments
“Slow down, you move too fast
You gotta make the morning last
Just kickin’ down the cobblestones
Lookin’ for fun and
Feelin’ groovy …”
That verse certainly won’t be found in any jingles from major retailers stocking and promoting Christmas gifts in August.
They are words, admittedly, from the much simpler times of 1966 when Simon and Garfunkel recorded the 59TH Bridge Street (Feelin’ Groovy) song on their Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme album.
Thinking of the rush toward Christmas that’s already begun and taking it easy on this Sunday four months ahead of The Big Day had me musing over the word thyme and its homophone (words that sound the same but have different spellings and meanings) partner time.
It seems no matter how much people vow each year to slow down and spend less on gift giving, many still get caught up in the Christmas shopping vortex earlier and earlier and spend more and more money.
No wonder kids are hardly done opening the newest version of electronic gaming gadgetry they received at Christmas (which was of no surprise since they’d lobbied for months) than they are clamouring for the latest and greatest of something else.
Are we really surprised when much of the mound of nicely wrapped presents on Dec. 25 becomes clutter within days?
A rant about excesses at Christmas is an old one that needs no further comment other than the increasing craze over one day of the year is symptomatic of the rest of life for those who let it.
Many of us seem to try to pack one more thing in our lives yet always think fondly of the simpler times, like the quick vacation or the spontaneous dinner out.
Who relishes the maxed-out credit card bill in January?
It blows my mind when I’m channel surfing and I see shows like Say Yes to the Dress and the wearing apparel being considered costs more than my entire wedding. Of course, I’ve been married 25 years now and I wonder how many of the couples on the show will still be wed a quarter century later.
It all seems to start out with graduation in kindergarten and by the end of elementary school, the expectation of an elaborate celebration has gone crazy. Getting only about half way through basic education warrants a gala bash with participants driven in a limo?
It’s no wonder kids want to be teenagers all too quickly, rush off to post-secondary education, often before they are ready, and can’t wait to become of age.
By 30, many people have sped through the first third of their lives without taking the chance to smell the roses … and by then, they are stuck in a routine.
Am I being a grumpy old man about this? I don’t think so. I like a party just as much as anyone and as age 51 is calling my name, I am still at a point where I think of all the things there are left to accomplish.
It just seems we build up expectations for big moments earlier and earlier in our lives and those of younger generations so nothing is really THAT special anymore.
As I was writing this blog, I saw this quote on a friend’s twitter post: “Be not afraid of growing slowly; be afraid only of standing still.” ~ Ancient Chinese Proverb.
Do these wise words and my commentary provide conflicting viewpoints? Absolutely not! There is a difference between enjoying and thriving on a fast pace and having your life spinning out of control so we lose sight of what’s important.
We really can pack one less meeting or email into a day. We can call an old friend out of the blue or take an impromptu Sunday drive. We don’t NEED to shop until we drop.
Rediscovery my purpose… by accident.
August 15, 2011 § 4 Comments
If there’s anything that life likes to do, it’s get increasingly busier. Sooner or later, we each wake up and think, “How did I get here?” That is, if we wake up to that fact at all. Although a busy life is not something I think any of us can avoid, it is possible to keep your ear to the ground and eye on the road to know when you’re swerving off track. Just like driving, it requires focus and attention when you’re behind the wheel. If you’ve got too many things going at once, you might find yourself in a heap on the side of the road sooner than you think.
I’m by no means crashing into a ditch, but I’ve felt myself slowly being pulled off course. In fact, I think I turned down a side road and lost my way for a while. I’ve been off on a different sort of adventure and the sounds of the main highway, that is, the road I had first set out on with a purpose in mind, were drawing more distant every day. I vaguely remembered what it once was, but was losing touch with that part of me. I’ve been wanting to make my way back, to remember what exactly I was after in the first place, but I didn’t know the way. At least not until, like a loud horn and beacon blazing through a thick fog, I was given a connection back to that place… and hence, a direction to head in.
I was reminded today of an experimental status I did on Facebook one day last year. I used my status as a cancer fundraiser. Except instead of trying to get my network to support me, I asked them for their stories. In exchange for every story shared, I donated $2 to cancer research. The experiment was successful in my books. I had nearly 40 stories shared, and 4 other friends who stepped up to match my pledge. In total we raised close to $500… yep, you read that right. $500 from a Facebook status update.
About 10 months ago, I left my employ with ATCO and started a new adventure with Yelp, a business reviews website out of San Francisco. With this new challenge came a lot less available time for me to keep up many of the online activities I had been doing in my spare time. This, unfortunately, has included blog posts on The Muse and Views. Today, however, I was reminded of why I started the blog with David in the first place. My whole reason for blogging was partially that of healing, inspiring and sharing my ideas and thoughts, and partially in hopes of inspiring and helping others with my posts. I’m not sure when exactly I lost sight of that purpose, but I did. And because I did, it’s made trying to keep up the blog and the new job next to impossible.
What’s so special about today? Well, through a sponsorship we’re doing with Light The Night across Canada, my Facebook status experiment and how well it had worked was at the forefront of my mind. I wanted a way to engage Calgary’s Yelp Community the same way I had engaged my own personal network all those months ago. I recognized my knack for using communication tools in ways many don’t think of at first. It comes so naturally, it’s a part of who I am.
This was the beacon lighting my way back. That connection into myself that I won’t otherwise find. As much as I wish this blog were for you, it’s really, first and foremost, for me. And, with David’s reminder not to waste our talents, I’m making my way back.
davidolinger
Wendy Peters & David Olinger
Wendy Peters
The Muse and Views 