wining, dining and SOME were pining

So, what HAVE I been doing all week?

Ok, I did manage to post once, albeit an overly depressing poem, which, if you must know, was in no way a reflection of the week I had been having. A poem needn't be about me, nor anyone I have seen in the past five years even. It may be an observation or even based on a memory. So never mind chaps, all is well over at The Brave; I seem to be better at tapping in to the depressing aspects of my feeble mind...YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Like I said in a previous blog - my best friend came to visit me last week, and indeed Lauraine, "to have a best friend" truly IS one of "the greatest things in the world". We had so much fun. And laugh! Oh how we laughed. Much of what was exchanged is unrepeatable, both through choice and perhaps censorship laws, but never mind, we had fun.

I don't have many friends in this universe, but those who consider me so....well, I wouldn't trade them for anything. But a best friend, now that is someone special. A best friend can not be announced, such a friendship is established over time and through trials.

One's best friend is someone with whom you can be yourself 100%; someone you can entrust with your deepest fears and secrets, your pains and emotions and your wacko ideas. One can tell, ask or share anything with a best friend, and know that there might be laughter (sometimes unwelcome), perhaps tears, sometimes worry and occasionally frustration and even momentary lapses of anger accompanying that which is divulged... but there is never judgement.

I have missed all my friends from Australia so very much, but to have my best friend visit me in my new land, to see how my children have grown since we last saw each other; where life has taken me and the new life our family has built, and for her to know what I am referring to when I talk about the local landscape, well that is pretty special, and I thank her for going out of her way to visit my family and I.

My best friend currently resides in the sweltering centre of outback Australia, but is US born, with most of her immediate family living in Washington State. This week, after a wonderful time showing her some local Canadian sights, I had the privilege of driving my friend back to her Mum's house in the US.

It was a bit surreal that we were in Canada and the US together, which also caused some major eyebrow knitting at the border. One of the immigration guys just couldn't seem to wrap his head around the idea that the American was the resident of Australia, but the Australian was the resident of Canada and....WHAT THE HELL WERE WE DOING HERE TOGETHER ANYWAY?

We were asked how we knew each other, where we met, did we have men in our lives. Now people, do these questions sound relevant to national security? At no point were we asked if we were hauling drugs over the border, in possession of guns or harboring a family of illegals in the trunk. So, judging by the mirthful faces among the observing male US immigration personnel, it appears it is far more amusing, and important, to take bets on whether the two 30-something women travelling men-less, are lesbians, as opposed to devious evil-doers plotting to take-over the world. Anyway.....

I spent the night at the home of my friend's Mum and Step-Dad. I have met them before and they are always so very nice to me - wonderful people really, and very talented, the both of them. My friends Mum is a fabulous quilter and seamstress and her cooking is so good. I certainly didn't knock back some of her cookies to take on the drive back to Canada - Boy were they good!

And you should see J's woodwork - stunning! He made his lovely wife a gorgeous heart shaped candy box for valentines day - how sweet is that! He also makes beautifully sculptured jewellery boxes, in all kinds of interesting woods....I really appreciate that kind of thing, as my Dad is also into wood work. He also made the heart shaped basket pictured here. It collapses flat, so you can use it for setting down hot dishes and the like. He told me he had seen one once and simply "worked out" how to make one like it, in his own style. It was such a cool piece, and I was lucky enough that my friend bought me this one - (there better have been an exchange of money). Some people have all the talent - sheesh!

The other wonderful thing that happened on the trip was my meeting, for the first time, a friend of my best friend's family. I guess I met her first through blogger. Kathleen is just as lovely in person as she is over the Internet - if not, lovelier. I remember the first time I read her blog and commenting that it would be so great to be part of her family, since they sounded so dear to her, and for a moment yesterday, she made me feel that I was. It was so great to meet her and I hope to see her warm and cheerful face again.

It started to snow just as I was preparing to say my goodbyes to everyone. My desert dwelling friend stood huddled and shivering in PJ's and an overcoat, with a shower of glittering diamonds falling about her and tiny, glistening stars in her hair, "let this be your last image of me", she said. And with that befitting image frozen in mind, I hugged her, stepped into my car and left; chased all the way back to Canada by a clenched fist of black sky.

After a week of chatting with a much loved friend, meeting and catching up with great people, driving around like a tourist, shopping, wining and dining...I guess it is back to reality for me. Man I sure needed that! No wonder I feel SOOOOO much better.

the nest

I have two kids, one is four and my daughter will be three next month.

My first pregnancy was not planned.

In fact, I hadn't planned on ever having kids.

The very thought of becoming a mother was an utterly terrifying concept to me, and one I hoped never to entertain. Harsh I know.

Until I became a mother, I had not one moment of prior experience. I had held one baby once...my bosses, and the baby was kind of thrust into my inwardly refusing, quivering arms, with me awkwardly holding the baby at arms length and, no doubt, with an expression of complete and total fear, smeared across my horrified face.

It was not that I disliked children, I just felt that I lacked experience, was totally clueless and would probably be a screw up as a parent, and didn't want to be held responsible for my own child's misery; besides...I had plans, and a career to plunge into.

I graduated from university 7 months pregnant.

Only one person in my graduating class knew I was pregnant, which is a bit surprising, not to mention insulting, that no one happened to notice the protruding belly (ha ha), but I didn't want anyone to know. I thought I might be discriminated against, in my pursuit of a career. Yes, career, career, career...that was all I thought and dreamt about.

Once I had my baby boy, I was a nervous, unconfident, puddle of insecurity, but I coped, and I learnt - that is all you can do really - mothering is the ultimate, on-the-job-training experience. I lacked support, from extended family and friends. I really was alone, and though everyday I felt I had fallen short, as a parent (and mostly still do), I wasn't the total screw up I thought I might be.

I had a second baby straight away, deluded that I should get the reproductive phase of my life over with, so I can get on with that blessed career, that somehow kept eluding me.

The second baby was a dream child, and at the time, my husband was feeling rather disillusioned at work and so we were talking about doing a role reversal thing - he stay at home with the kids, and went after that career I had been longing for....it didn't work out.

I went for the dream job. I got to the final cut...but I didn't get it. Then opportunities came up for my husband to work in Canada. He was successful in his bid, we moved, and ironically, I have visa restrictions preventing me from working in my field.

It is funny how fate works sometimes...(NOT funny "ha ha"), and I have spent many years coming to terms with the why's of all this....

My children are older now...still young, but older. My eldest will be starting kindergarten in the fall and my youngest will be starting pre-school. I have decided to put my sensitive, panicky and, at home, dominating son in an afternoon kindergarten class, so his sister gets as much focus and concentration from me, regarding her morning pre-school class. I could have placed them both in morning classes and took the 2 hour break - the first in 5 years- but I think it is more important that my youngest gets her needs met, as she commences this new level of independence.

If you allow me to digress just a little....I have gotten to know one family here in town. They have a son who attends pre-school with my son. They also have a daughter, who will be in pre-school with my daughter. The boys, along with the girls, both get along quite well. Although my daughter is still pretty shy with others and clings to me a bit, just for reassurance until she feels comfortable - its normal behaviour.

I have gotten to know the Dad a bit. He is a stay at home Dad, and like me -the foreigner, he doesn't really fit in with the clichey local mothers. He is nice, and I have gotten to know his lovely wife now, too.

My son has gone over to this family's house for play dates, and their son has come over to our house for the same. I even had the little girl over for a couple of hours while the boys were in pre-school.

Tonight however, I got a call from The Dad, asking if my son would like to go over on Friday, for a play date, and perhaps stay for dinner. My son would definitely love that, he did go over for dinner with the family once before and had a ball...I missed him though. Then The Dad extended the invitation to my daughter, who has never been to any one's house by herself. Man, I could feel the tension in the wholeness of my being. Every morsel of myself was screaming "NOOOOOO, don't take my baby".

I started spluttering and back peddling like I was on a moped careering toward a pack of sleeping lions. I told him I would have to "think about it" - boy, in hindsight that was really rude. It is not that I don't' trust the family, it is just that...I (pathetically) don't know what I am going to do with myself for all that time, by myself! I haven't allowed myself to think of my future beyond full time care, yet. There was no point. I have let my career aspirations drift away. I am no longer that same person. I am a changed person due to my parenting experience...for the better I think...And secondly, I am just not ready to let my baby go just yet...not for all that time, anyway.

So I think I am going to retract my acceptance of the invitation for Mister to stay for dinner, and suggest he and his sister play for a few hours, and I pick them both up at 5pm. It would make me feel more comfortable, and I will still have to find something to do with myself during those few hours, but it won't be for as long.

It is ironic that I had once thought the idea of me as a mother totally abhorrent, and now I can't let them go...I love them.

the drawing potential of snow

I love snow in Vancouver. We don't get a whole lot in the city. Generally, one needs to venture into the mountains to have a decent experience. There have been some notable exceptions though....

One needn't travel two hours to Whistler to enjoy a spot of skiing, although Whistler is regarded as THE place to go.

Vancouverites can enjoy a spot of winter sport and fun in one of three mountians, all within 30 minutes of the city: Mount Seymour; Grouse Mountain, which requires one to journey to the summit via gondola (excellent, but quite pricey); and Cypress mountain.

What I enjoy about snow in Vancouver, is its apparent ability to recapture ones youth and draw out the inner child, even when no snow was ever present in our pasts. I find that quite an incredible phenomenon.

Yesterday was a nice clear day; the best weather day forecast for the entire long weekend. Consequently, we decided to bundle up the kids and head for Mount Seymour.

On the way we stopped into Canadian Tire to scoop up a couple of the few remaining "toboggans" of the season. Yep, winter has just begun, but we have learnt that winter accessories really need to be purchased in early November. Nevertheless, the toboggan, though basic, worked as well as anything else, so who cares!

No one in our family has ever tobogganed before - remember we are Aussies and come from Adelaide, a place where the locals shudder and shiver if the thermostat hovers in the low teens CELSIUS.

We began our day by experimenting on a piddly patch of snow with an inclination of about 10 degrees. It helped us all gain confidence. It was fun. Much laughter was interwoven with screams of exhileration and glee. And as I looked around at other participants on the mountain yesterday, I noticed a majority of happy, shining, smiling faces and hundreds of families enjoying time together.

This vision of adults and children laughing and playing, made me realise the gift that snow is.

Many family experts and discussion boards speak of the importance of quality family time and play, and snow appears to offer the perfect opportunity to get out there, spend time together and let loose.

I saw a mother and her 13 year old son tandem tobogganing. They were travelling rapidly down the more thrilling slope, we eventually graduated ourselves to. At the bottom, they crashed hard into a snow wall barrier and fell into a heap of tangled arms and legs. After a brief moment, they gathered themselves together, looked into each others eyes with a surprised expression and then collapsed into a roared of laughter. "That was the BEST ride of the day, WOOOO!" said the mother. Her son agreed, and they began their ascent toward the top for another slide down...another joyful experience.

We also had a lot of fun. Our 4-year old, is normally quite a timid fellow, but by the end, he was very willing to slide down by himself, running back to us each time, enthusing,"did you see me, did you see that!" Of course we did.

I took our 2-year old down. Once, my hat fell over my eyes obstructing my vision. I felt us travel up the curved snow wall barrier at the end. I was holding her....we stopped motionless.....then we tipped and rolled. I landed on my side, and lifted my hat up so I could see. Our 2-year old was face down in the snow. When I picked her up, she appeared to be covered in little frozen diamonds. Her face was red from the cold, but her eyes twinkled and she wore an expression of sheer delight, which prompted a big hug from me. "Was that fun? I asked, knowing the answer. Big nods of the head followed before she ran off to repeat the experience.

I know you don't need snow to enjoy time with family, but there is something magical about the snow, and it could be my lack of experience talking, because we are rarely inconvenienced by it, unlike other communities.

Even still, whatever fate shall bring me, and however long my life, I reckon these snowy family experiences will shine out in memory like lanterns on a bleak night.

fullness in the emptiness

The last Christmas I spent in Australia was a sad one.

My Grandpa died on the evening of December 20th 2004, and was not laid to rest until after the holidays, almost a week later.

At that point, we weren't to know that it would be our last Christmas in our former home, but there it is...that was the last Australian Christmas we had.

Everyone who attended was understandably, a little shell shocked.

My Grandpa suffered a brief unprecedented bout with cancer....and was suddenly gone.

My Mum had planned a great big family Christmas at her house, that year. "It would be the first year that everyone, on both sides of the family, would be there" - she had enthused.... but it wasn't to be.

In the end, given the circumstances, the Christmas she had planned, was cancelled. The family she longed to unite and see celebrating, never arrived. Instead, we all broke off into out immediate family groups, and had our Christmases separately.

My house became "the venue" for our family. Everyone in attendance that day, had recently lost a pivotal male figure. My Gran - her husband; My Mum - her Father; my Dad - his Father who had also died earlier in that same year; my brother and myself - a wonderful pair of Grandfathers; my children - Great Grandfathers.

And so, on that day, a day for familyand celebrating; for fullness and love; a day of plenty and of joy; we also felt the very contradictory, yet overwhelming, feelings of emptiness, strangeness, sadness and in a way, paralysis.

The pendulum of life swings back and forth with even consistency. And with every journey that pendulum takes, at one point, it always must return to centre; neither back... neither forth, but momentarily is relieved of all momentum, and is balanced.

Sometimes the heavy aspects of life seem to dominate. Sometimes the lighter moments of joy appear so unreachable and distant, that we can draw no strength; no hope and no inspiration from its memory or influence. But the lighter moments do still remain, just wait until the pendulum swings forth once again, as it inevitably will.

There will be many an empty chair at family dinner tables these holidays, but where there is emptiness there is also a potential to see fullness - look a little harder, a little deeper...perhaps try widening the perspective.

2004 was also the year my daughter was born.

As long as we remember those who are not physically present, then in some small way, we open our grieving hearts wide enough, to let our lost loved ones share in and enjoy a place at every celebration. For once claimed, no one can truely escape our open heart.