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Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Let the heavens sing

Cinder

And now for something completely Different!

CRAFTS!  What is that you say?  Crafts on Carol's Crafty Corner?

MADNESS!

I know.  But I've been knitting up a storm to keep myself sane and my children alive (kidding, mostly)

Here are some of my most recent items.

My Kyna Shawl

Zombie Vixen Fingerless gloves

Hell or Highwater Cowl



Star Crossed Slouchy Beret

Dionne Slouchy Hat
Cap'n Crunch

I'm super proud of myself.  I've made a couple pairs of socks too.  One for a friend and one for me.  The Cap'n Crunch went to a friend out in BC so I don't actually have a picture of the Finished project.  I'll survive.  It looks awesome on her.

I'm making myself another pair of fingerless gloves because the oldest has stolen the zombies.  I knew it would happen.  She kept coming in and taking them from me.  I'm enjoying the process of zoning out and doing nothing with my brain.  I need that dead time.

I've also finally (chorus of angels) learned how to read charts.  Now when I have to read a pattern that isn't charted I get flustered.  Funny isn't it?

I'm doing okay.  I wish I was better, but it's always been one day at a time.

Love to anyone out there still.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

It's taken some time.

I thought I should come and speak of the good days.  I have done a lot of venting of the crap that has gone on.  I've not mentioned much of why I was there in the first place.

That first moment that I saw you, when you walked into Donna's back yard...and stole my breath.  You were so beautiful.  It was a chilly summer and you didn't hesitate to take off your jacket and cover my legs.  It's funny now that I know how cold you are all the time.


It was such a sweet gesture and it stuck with me.  We became fast friends.  Donna was "in love" with you so out of respect, I let it go.  My friendship was worth more than any guy.  Little did I know.

Time went on and almost a year passed and it happened.  We happened.  I don't know that I've ever been so happy.  You were gentle and sweet, so kind and loving.  So happy to make me happy.  I've never had that.

When my dad had his heart attack, you dropped everything to come with me to the hospital.  Who wants to meet their girlfriends father, their girlfriend of only a few months in that situation?  You came because you supported me.

When I didn't get the job I wanted, you came to my workplace and brought me a gift to cheer me up.  You always did anything and everything to make me happy.



Maybe I abused that but I don't really think so.  That isn't who I am.  I'm pretty easy going and giving myself.  I always thought we worked so well together.

And then your drinking got out of control.

Was it the kids?  Was it me?  Was it both?

I will never know.

It's really hard for me to no longer have any contact.  It was harder still to pretend that I was okay watching you fade away.  Watching you circle the bowl as it were.  From this sweet gentle man who didn't even raise his hand to defend himself in a fight (I took care of it) to someone who thrums with barely concealed anger at all times.

Who is this man?  Where did he come from?  Was he always there?  Was he hiding from me?  From us?  Did something happen to set him loose?

I don't think I will ever know.

I will mourn the man I loved.  I will mourn my marriage.  I will mourn my forever.  I will mourn my sunset walks, hand in hand with my husband who is wrinkled and grey.

Instead I will walk alone, strong and tall.  I will teach our children that to work hard is more important than anything else.  That personal responsibility is vital to society and each other. I will show them all the love that they have lost in not having a dad.

I will continue to invite you into our lives.  I will no longer expect you to be there.  And for that, I mourn.

Good bye my love.  I am so sorry we couldn't make it work.  More than you will ever know or understand.  I am so, so sorry.





Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Funny...Not

It's strange how the human mind works.  You go about life being brave and strong on the outside.  On the inside you're paddling madly to stay on top of the water.

Nobody sees that.  Nobody wants to see.

This past little while, I've been struggling to deal with my own self and with himself as well.  On a bad day, I can shove my clouds back and find the ray of light to bask in, to find the warmth.  On a good day, I bank that light for when I need it most.  For those darkest of dark days when I can't find the ray.

When you have your own mental illness to deal with, dealing with someone else who is unmedicated or unbalanced is stressful at the least, dangerous at the most.

Not only is it taxing on my system, it pushes me closer and closer to mental and physical exhaustion. Think of an electric wire.  Looks nice and calm, but inside that wire thousands of volts are constantly humming, or the Duck on the water, calm on the surface, but under, paddling madly to maintain that calm.

Toss some kids into the mix and it's like battery acid on the flames.

I do what I can to keep going with a smile on my face.  I smile because for the most part, it could be worse.  I smile because if I see even one face who shows pity, I might snap.

The think that echoes in my head lately is how completely and utterly alone I am.  My biggest fear in life has always been that I would be alone.  I am not lonely by any stretch of the imagination.  There is always someone with me, be it a kid or an animal.  But I'm missing that connection with another human in a way that allows you to sit quietly and do nothing.  Where you can just sit side by side on the sofa watching movies.  When you both get up at the same time and do the kitchen dance where one gets snacks and one gets drinks.

It pains me deeply that I'll probably never have this again.

Fatalistic?  Probably.  Realistic?  Yes.

My mother was 42/43 when she left my father.  She was never with anyone ever again.  I was 35 when my marriage shattered.  Broken promises and false hopes have been laid at my feet for five years.  I've woken up to the reality that I've spent the past five years waiting for someone who will never be better.  Someone who will never put us first.

That hurts.  Hurts so deeply that my spiral has taken me to places I've not seen in years.  I reach out blindly to those near me for sustainment and that isn't fair.  Fair to them or to me.  They don't know what it is I need and I don't know that is what I'm doing until it's too late.

The ache in my soul when I sit quietly in my home at night deepens every day lately.

I don't know where to turn to come back to the surface this time.  I'll just have to float and hope that eventually I'll return and can stop faking it.  It is a shame that I've become so good at faking it...

Monday, September 16, 2013

Growing up.

Kindness comes in all forms.  Doing something nice for others because you want to.  Doing something for someone because you know they need it. A simple gesture or words.

I've been out of sorts lately.  The five year anniversary of "the incident" hit me hard.  More so because we had had such a lovely day.  The kids and I.  To come from such a high and to have the cloud yanked out from under us, or me, so abruptly left me in a tail spin.  The week long barrage was nothing short of horrific.  I've never come so close to letting it all go since I was in high school.

That scared me. I have been so distracted and distant from my own self it's alarming.  My internal panic at my situation has me cutting my ties with myself and I'm worried.

Or was...

I went out with some friends on Friday.  I wasn't in the mood to go.  Not in the mood to be around people at all really, but I had promised to bring one friend to the gathering.  I got ready and went.  An old friend asked that simple question that almost brought me to my knees.  "Are you okay?"  I lied and said yes but we all know I'm not.

I will be.

I know I've said that a million times before, but I need it to be true.  For me and mine.  The fear in my heart at how low I got, I don't ever want to get there again.

I need help to get there.  But I need to find the right help rather than searching blindly in the dark for any source of strength.

I can do this.  I know I can.  If not for me, for them.

Friday, September 6, 2013

Another Year...

Another year and the kids are back to school again.

Grades 5, 3 and 1.

Where was I in fifth grade.  I was starting at Claude Watson.  Huge change for me.  Getting tiny wings in taking the bus so far from home to school each day.  Learning that I wasn't just "Linda's little sister".  Learning that I have talent on my own.

I look at Bean and I marvel at how much like me she is.  How utterly and achingly like me she is.  So strong in her personality, and how deep in her own self doubt.

I don't know how to help her.  Even less when I'm so deeply mired there still.

In grade three...I have fuzzy memories of my teacher constantly telling me how Linda did things better than I did.  Grade one, only memories of Ms. Brown having us all in a circle reading us stories.

I should be grateful that I have those memories at all.

It's been five years that we've been on our own.  Five years of struggling to be both mom and dad.  Five years of trying to not mention him in conversations.  Five years of not badmouthing where they can hear.

I found out a few weeks ago that he doesn't do the same.  On the few times that he does spend time with the kids, he spends that time saying nasty things about me.  It hurts.  Hurts bad.

I hold my share of the blame in what went wrong.  I could have done things differently.  I could have gotten out earlier I suppose.  I could have done anything else but call the police when he attacked me...

Bottom line is, what is done is done.  I can't change the past.  But I can change the face of the future.  I can see my horizon and change my course.

I need to stop living in the land of what if's and self loathing.  I know that might be shocking to a lot of people, but it's true.  I don't really like myself most of the time.  I'm uncomfortable in my skin.

I need to make broad sweeps on the canvas of my life.  I need to do this soon before I fall over the edge.

I love my 5, 3 and 1st graders enough to give them more than I had.  That should also include a happy mother.  Something that I still don't have.

Starting today...
Happy anniversary of becoming one.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Days go on and on and on...

I've had issues coming back here.  The pain of losing my baby girl was so intense I couldn't look at pictures, couldn't see her dish, couldn't admit she was gone.

It has been over a year and life has changed.

My boys (Sunny and Thomas) are bigger and sweeter and we've added a dog to the mix.

Bear is funny and stupid and lovable and I worship him.

I'm lucky that I work from home.  A gift that I recognized for my children.  When we got the dog in August, it was a godsend.

He keeps me company all day where the boys are aloof.  He sleeps on my toes and gazes at me with love and adoration.  He follows me everywhere like Smudge used to do.

He also makes me be more active.  He needs walks and play time.

We are soon to be adding another dog to the mix.

Keeping track?

Two dogs, two cats, the turtle (who has still not caught one of her feeder fish) and three female beta fish.

Yes it is a zoo.  Yes it is chaos.  Yes I get frustrated at time but I would not change anything about it, other than having my girl back.

Life continues.

I knit more.  I have taken up sewing again.  I'm making random bracelets because it makes me happy.

Life is about joy.  Life is about fun.  Life is to be lived and I am doing my best every day to make that apparent to my kids.

Thank you for being along for the ride.

I miss you, my only reader.  I promise to try to be better.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Goodbye my love

Once in a lifetime you are given a gift.

Everyone has pets.  Everyone loves their pets.  Some are even lucky enough to have pets with such personality that they capture their hearts in such a way as to become not just pets but family.

My pet, my cat, my child was so much more than that.

My baby, my sweet sweet baby was so so much more.

Sweet Smudge was a gift.

I can clearly recall the call from a friend saying her cat Taya was giving birth and she was freaking out.  See Taya and Bobo were brother and sister and she didn't even know that Taya was pregnant.  There were three kittens and what was she supposed to do?

I went over and there were three tiny balls of fluff.  One orange, one with Himalayan colouring, and one grey.  These tiny balls of fluff, so sweet.

Days pass and she calls again.  The grey one's eyes aren't opening.  What should she do?  I tell her not to worry, I will take her.  I will take the poor sweet blind kitty.  I'll take her sister as well, the one who looks Himalayan.

Well Smudge's eyes opened eventually, just late, but she never did meow a day in her life.  That was just one of her gifts.

Her beauty and grace, how dainty she was, how sweet she was, how she would snore so softly into my ear, how she would be so standoffish with the kids until they fell asleep and then snuggle up and keep them warm......

17 years, my love.  I kept you safe and loved for 17 years.  I wish it could have been more.  I wish I could have made your last days better, free of suffering.

I did what I could for you my love.

Know now and forever, that you will be in my heart and part of my soul.  You will forever be my special baby girl.

Thank you for being my child.  I will miss you terribly.  You will never ever be replaced.

Rest easy my love.

March 14 1995 - May 13 2012