oy!

Hello from edmonton... and the conference with like 350 screaming, horny teenagers... I have such a headache!
Hope you are all well! I am checking in but have little time to comment!
Love you all,
S

Okay, Gyspy, here it is...

The day I wrote this was Mother’s Day 2006.

I watched my friend Karen with her two-year-old daughter walking down to the garden at the bottom end of our property.
They were walking hand in hand, little Trinda with her plastic blue shovel, ready to help mommy. It is planting day, and there is much lawn work to be done as well.
I have often had moments when I miss what could have been with my own daughter. But usually, they are on her birthday and the anniversary of her death.
Today is the first Mother's Day when I have missed her so keenly. Is that strange? To not have missed her on Mother's Day prior to this year? I guess having my sons here and healthy has always filled that void.
Today, I watched as my eldest son, who is 16, hold the hand of Karen's son Brandon, four, and walk with him to the riding mower to get started on the grass. My heart swelled with pride and love as he carefully placed Brandon in front of him on the seat so he could give him a ride. My youngest boy, 13, is in the garden, helping with planting. He, too, makes me burst with love. They are truly the lights of my life.
Yet I so miss my daughter.
She was so determined to live. She outlasted all of the doctors' predictions for life expectancy. But her sweet little heart just was not strong enough. She died in my arms, nestled against my heart.
I have rare moments of deep despair when I wonder if somehow it was my fault she was so sick. I know that is not the case. I have studied all the genetic research I could find about her condition, and I know it was just the luck of the draw.
Nothing I did could have caused or changed anything. And what it all comes down to is how blessed I was to have her in my life at all.
But I wonder what she would have looked like, had she been healthy enough to stay. She would be 10 years old now, 11 this July. Would she look like me? Would she have had blond hair or red by now? Her eyes were an amazing blue.
Perhaps that is why I love so intensely. The knowledge that we can lose those we care about so quickly makes me afraid to not love them while I can. I think that was her gift to me. Arlyann. Her name was Arlyann, after my best friend, whose own little girl is now one, and an absolute delight.
I am not sure what message I am attempting to convey this sunny, peaceful day. Perhaps it is just as simple as never be afraid to tell those you care about how you really feel, never miss an opportunity to spend time with them, always live each day to the fullest. A message perhaps directed inward as well as outward.
Never be afraid to love, or to change, or to not change.
My dearest David (Bouchard) wrote to me the other day when I told him I felt my path in life was not longer as clear as it once was, with our children getting older and my focus on working with youth taking a larger role that I originally planned it to.
He said, “My old friend, let your teacher guide you. Your heart is your compass. She is there, watching over you, telling you the right decisions.”
Best go. The sunshine calls me, the earth in my flowerpots and little garden near my deck begs to be turned and worked with my bare hands. I will sink my fingers in and feel the promise of life, the energy of the earth and all her power. I will honour the memory of my daughter by loving my sons, and the few tears I will allow will be mine to cherish alone.

Wanna be my therapists? LOL!

Okay, so I guess I am just really sort of exhausted right now, mentally, physically and emotionally. I have two conferences in the next two weeks, one in Edmonton (four days) and then one in Cornwall Ontario (four days). I have so much work to get done before and in between I can't even conceive of how I will get it done, and on top of it all, Ian and I have been at odds for a while. Mind you that part of the stress is getting easier. Things kind of came to a head last week, and the crazy part is, both of us really needed to talk to the one person in the world that is always there for us, our best friends, and for him that is me, and for me that is him.
I just wanted to run to him and cry and rage and pour my heart out about my boyfriend, and he is my boyfriend. The reverse is true for him. In a weird way, it is very heartwarming to know we care so deeply about one another on so many levels.
I am feeling underappreciated, over worked and certainly underpaid, and just sort of too tired to do either of my jobs, but far too broke to really take a vacation.
Wah wah wah. Cowboy up girl! I wish I had a copy of the song "When The Going Gets Tough" by Billy Ocean. I think that will be my theme song for awhile!
Okay, now I have told you in a nutshell some of what is bothering me, and I got my glasses from Gypsy, so it is time for me to get up and keep going!
Thank you all for being so supportive right now... it means a lot to me.

Taking a break.. I think

all is not well in blogland... at rather real-land just now. Need Gyspy's glasses more than ever. I think am going to take a break. I mean, I don't know if I will have the energy to be happy and flip and chipper for awhile, so better to just avoid posting at all. But who knows, maybe I will feel better later.
So, in case I am gone awhile, talk with you all soon. I will be ghosting past your blogs though... got to keep an eye on you all...
xxx
Stevie

Well, imagine my shock...

So I go to Sir Ian's blog, only to find his avatar has posted a note saying "off painting." Well, thinks me, that is fine. I ask Ian about his day and meander back to my blog.
Imagine my shock when I see MY avatar, who just this morning was an adorable if flirty Maid Marionesque lass, dressed now in a British invasion tee, drinking out of the same blue cup as you know who, and... with her face painted!
What is up with that?
Ian, what have you to say for your lad??

feeling blue...

all sorts of blue... waiting for the tea to boil, feeling weary of heart, soul and body.
Spring has begun to arrive, I think, I hope... with melting, melting, melting everywhere. I await her arrival with longing, with despair, with a need for life to refresh me in all things natural. I feel as though I have been holding my breath underwater for ages too long, and soon I will break the surface and inhale... moist earth, fresh buds...
I ache for it...

Tagged....

Thanks for the tag Rache!
Sorry to all of you for being so absent of late. Had rather a full plate lately...

so, the name of the book is Freedom in Exile: the Autobiography of the Dalai Lama (by the Dalai Lama of course).
Page 123, five sentences in, the next three are: "I also urged my people to adhere strictly to the principles of the Seventeen-Point 'Agreement'. I told them of my talks with Nehru and Chou En-lai and of how, during the first week of February that year, Chairman Mao himself had publicly acknowledged that Tibet was not yet ready for reform. Finally, I reminded them of the Chinese claim that they were in Tibet to help Tibetans."
I adore the Dalai Lama.
Anyone not already tagged, consider youself so!
love,
s