Celebrations and early morning ponderings..

Up bright and early this morning as teddybear had a course this morning. The house is quiet save the sound of the rippling water in the fish tank.  It's been a while since the house has sounded so calm and still.  Of course it could just be that I haven't been awake early enough to witness it. I can hear our birthday girl calling it stupid-o-clock and I cannot help but giggle a little bit. 

Caryn pictured here with baby Sasha a number of years
ago. Sadly Sasha passed away just this past week at the
age of 16.  This is one of my favourite photos of
Caryn. 

Our eldest daughter, 'Carebear' (she prefers Cayrbear), 'baby girl' turns 27 today and I can't help but notice that she is now the same age I was when I moved out here 22 years ago and became their "Teemy-Mommy," stepping into the role of custodial stepmom to a crew that was just 2, 4 and 5 at the time.  Fast forward to today and our beautiful little girl is all grown up with a babe of her own -- who just happens to be the 4 years old that she was when I met her. 

I will never forget the sweet smile of a little girl who had crawled up on my lap at her brother's birthday party whose only request

for her birthday was that I come back for her party in January.  I remember feeling a little panicked.  I had no idea how I could possibly make that work but I promised to try and for the moment that was enough. 

When I went home after that visit, I couldn't help but miss them. We'd had a lot of fun during my visit.  

There were several conversations about how we might make another trip work.  There came a point where childcare became an issue, and it was affecting employment.  I'd facetiously offered to come and lend a hand.  I was a little past having had ovarian cancer, and a 2nd surgery for a benign cyst.  I'd been looking at courses that were wait listed and I was not really doing much at the time.  

To be honest, I was mostly being my cheeky self.  We'd all been chatting on the BBS networks for some time and the offer came easily - I'd even surprised myself.  I'd joked that with James working at the college I might get a discount on the courses I was after and could do them by distance Ed while watching the kids - win win for everyone.  In a year or two, I'd return home and "IRL" would resume. Talking always came easy, we just meshed.  I honestly never thought it would become reality, it was a thought thrown into the mix -- a half-baked one at that, but before too long the cookies became a bakery and I was on my way. 

Telling Dad would be the hardest part.  He was not happy that I would leave him.  My promise to come home in a year or so was met with skepticism and attitude.  My sister had thrown a big fit that I couldn't leave as her birthday was coming and I had to be here to celebrate.  As it happened, I booked my trip for the day after my sister's birthday to accomodate and still arrive for Caryn's birthday and as it turned out, my Dad and I spent the evening together as my sister was a no-show.  

January 22nd became known as our "Brockville Birthday" and for many years it was celebrated as the day we officially became a family, and the "Familyzoo" was born.  

On the day of Caryn's birthday party, sitting on my lap I'd told her that I had a special surprise for her before whispering in her ear that I wasn't going home this time.  She'd squealed and wrapped her arms around my neck so tight.  It is a moment I'll never forget.

I never planned to come, and I certainly didn't plan to stay.  For years my Dad would call me a liar because I didn't come home. I remember an early conversation with Dad telling me that this wasn't my responsibility and I could come home any time among other choice words.  I'd said something about our kids and he'd informed me that I hadn't dropped them so they weren't mine. The kids all laughed their heads off when I got off the phone and one by one picked each of them up and dropped them on the floor (they were standing up at the time so they landed on their feet).  I then told them they could call Grandpa Wilson so they could tell him that I had in fact dropped them all, so that was the end of that.  Dad had laughed too. He told me I was nuts and I'd laughed and said "just like my Daddy!"  

I could never have predicted that that simple request of a child would lead me here.  I often wonder if that little girl knows the impact that her birthday wish has had on my life.  A little leap of faith, and I was transported into a world I'd only ever seen in dreams.  There were a few nightmares too, but overall I would do it again in a heartbeat.

There are many things I'd like to think I'd do a little differently now, hindsight brings clarity to so many things, but at the end of the day we're all human -- doing the best we can until we learn a better way.  There is no manual and there are many MANY days when as you close your eyes at night and everybody is still alive, you call it a win. Becoming "Teemy" was the biggest (often hardest) and most rewarding challenge of my life. I didn't always rise to the challenge gracefully, but nobody can ever say I didn't try.  


Even through all the med-crap, and the teenager years, I always knew I had something worth fighting for.  I got to come home to 3 amazing kids, and a wonderful man.  It's the stuff that dreams are made of.   It's not always easy, but nothing worth having ever is.  I can only hope you know how much I love you all. 

And today, on Caryn's birthday..  I find myself thinking about where we've been and where we're going..  it has been an interesting ride to say the least. 

As tough as the teenager years could be, and for all the times we quipped about eating our young, you did a great job in making it up to us when you made us Grandma and Grandpa -- no greater gift was ever given. Good luck ever topping that one. 

With the granting of one simple wish, my life has been forever altered.  I am both blessed and grateful. It was your birthday, but you gave me the biggest gift of all. 

Happy Birthday Caryn! Love you!! XO

Longing for Someday ~ Someday is no longer a day of the week..

It is oddly amusing to me that a day that by its own definition should bring much happiness and merriment to all -- simply does not -- In fact, quite the opposite it has long-since been a source of sadness and a stark reminder of all that had been taken from us.

Live Every Day As It's Your Last ~ One Day It Will Be

One of my favorite pics of Dad ~ At the Highland Games years ago :)

We were sitting here talking about how tomorrow would have been Dad's birthday and marveling at how surreal it is that it's already been 3 months, and how it feels like just yesterday and ages ago all at the same time that I was talking to Dad on the phone and plotting to come out for a visit in a few weeks’ time.  How we got from there to here is mind-blowing.  None of anything went as planned, and there are still many days that it feels like I’m stuck in a bad dream and I can’t seem to wake up.

About that time a friend of mine messaged all excited about a new purse she just bought on sale for $700 -- it is important to note it was regularly over $900!!  And I just about laid an egg..    I've had CARS that I've paid less than that for, and drove them for multiple years!!  The image of my friend sitting on her purse expecting to get somewhere tickles my funny bone.. but I digress..

It's much more than that though - When I think of the good I could do with that kind of money ~ That's several month's groceries,  it's car payments for a couple of months.. it's so many things..  but just a purse.. that doesn't even make my list..  Now I should say here that I mean in no way to disrespect my happy shopping friend ~ honestly, she’s one of a number of ladies that have discovered the joys of pricey purses lately, and I’ve had the same conversation to my shoe-collecting friends as well.  We all have our habits and vices right?  Mine lives in my craft room.. <Grin> 

Given the timing of the conversation, I found myself laughing.  If I'd ever told my Dad I'd spent that kind of money on a purse I think he'd have had me committed.  He probably would have driven me there himself.. likely in a flurry of conversations surrounding the phrases “F’n dummy” and “Easy come easy go eh?”, two of his very favorite sayings. 

Even so, I just cannot wrap my brain around spending that much on something to throw my crap in.. LOL     Guess I'm not much of a girly girl..   it's all Dad's fault I suppose..  he always called my sister and I his sons..  It became somewhat of a family joke.  He always wanted a son.  He and Mom had a son before me, but he died as an infant and after that Mom gave him two girls.  He proudly told everyone that we were his sons, and we’d laugh and call him our Mom – Daddy-Mom, actually.  Since for most of our lives he filled both roles having taken over when our Mom ran away from home.

I was remembering how Dad had insisted that if I was going to drive a car that I had to know how to take care of it.  He bought me my first car at 16.  I had to learn to check the oil, and tire pressure and such before I was ever allowed to drive it.  Don’t even get me started on my learning to drive -  Dad had some pretty interesting methods of making sure his student kept their mind on the road while driving.  He always stuck a roll of toilet paper in the glove box “Just in case”; I think he just wanted to throw us off of our confidence and make sure we paid attention.  Crazy bugger.  I remember stopping at a red light and having him quietly pull on the hand brake or slipping the car into neutral and laughing himself silly while you panicked as the light went green.  I will never forget the day he reached over and cuffed me in the back of the head and when I asked what that was for, he said that one day I’d have my boyfriend in the car and he’d be talking to me, and feeling up my leg and I’d have to keep my mind on the road.  I quipped back Yeah right Dad, like you’re ever gonna let me have a boyfriend!  We both laughed all the way home..    

When other girls my age were out shopping with their moms or hanging out at the mall, I was learning how to change the oil in the car, piling wood for the wood stove,  helping Dad with the tow truck just to name a few. At 10..11..12.. , I was making business calls, and answering business calls and calls for the Union (Dad was a shop steward for a time) .  I learned to cook, and clean house, and helped out with my little sister.  We moved around quite a bit, and Dad always drove us to school and picked us up.  At times I felt robbed of what others were doing that I wasn’t allowed to.  It took me a long time to realize the gifts that he’d given me early in life that many don’t learn til much later – some never learn them.  

He was fond of saying that I was going to grow up strong like him. Ford Tough, he’d say..   whenever something bad would happen he’d say “Don’t worry kid, you’re a Wilson! You’re tough, like me!  Ford Tough” and we’d laugh..  

A few months before he fell ill we were talking on the phone and he said something I will never forget.  He told me he had no brains anymore that he’d given them all to me.  I thought that he was just being his jokester self, but he insisted he was serious that he’d taught me everything he knew so that he didn’t have to think anymore.  At the time I didn’t know it, but we’ve come to realize that Dad had been ill for a lot longer than he let on.  I think he wanted to make sure that he let me know that he loved me.  He didn’t often say it – he was the king of “me too”, when he actually said it, it was a very big deal.  Over the last year he’d become fond of saying “I miss you more than the world”, “I love you more than the world”.  I just hope he knew that to me, he was the world.  He was the one person in my life that was always there no matter what.  It didn’t matter what had happened, or what was needed; if he couldn’t fix it he did his very best to find us someone who could. 

He was never hung up on looks or age and didn’t care that having a teenage daughter would tell the world that was old.  He’d come to my band concerts in his jeans and vest, and afterwards he’d crack jokes and we’d all laugh about all the people who got all dressed up to put on airs at a kid’s concert. I can think of very few times when I called on Dad for help and didn’t get it.   In my teens and twenties friends were very jealous of my ability to make a phone call and say “Daddy it’s broken, come get it” and before too long a tow truck would be coming down the road to the rescue.  Everybody should have that kind of security in their lives. 

When he was in the hospital this past year,  he told me that I was the best thing he ever did and that he was proud of me.  Now to most that wouldn’t seem like a very big deal but my Dad was never a very touchy feely sappy kinda guy..   His way was more to tell me how screwed up I was or what I’d done wrong – perhaps some effort to make me work harder.  I could clean the whole house to surprise him, but then he’d come back and notice a sock under the couch, or some other trivial item – oh there were days I wanted a bugs bunny mallet!!  -  but then I’d heard from other people how he’d praised me or how proud he was of me.  So this direct statement was very unexpected, and a very precious gift.   I had no idea at the time that it would be one of the last times I’d hear his voice as he was intubated not long after, and though we were able to “talk” afterwards,  his words were no longer audible.  The nurses marvelled at the fact that we were carrying on complete conversations while many of them couldn’t be bothered to put in the effort to try to make out what he was trying to tell them. 

I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s been gone 3 months already.  I keep expecting the phone to ring and hear that familiar voice telling me he’s got a job for me, wisecracking and joking around.  Someone will say something, or something will happen and I’ll think Oh wow.. I’ve gotta tell Dad – and then it hits me and I find myself feeling like an idiot – how could I “forget” something so important.  The other day I reconnected with a girl from our old neighborhood we haven’t talked since we were kids,  crazy that we live about an hour apart and both some 4000 miles from “home”.   My first thought was to call Dad and tell him who I’d “found”.  It still doesn’t feel real and I’m not entirely certain that it ever will.

When I think of all the times we put off the “What if” conversations as if we had all the time in the world.  Truly, we always take for granted what we have until we don’t have it anymore.  I never dreamed I’d be saying good-bye to Dad so early in life, I was pretty sure we had many many years to drive each other crazy left to explore..   I guess it’s true what they say.  You just never know..   

Live every day as though it may be your last.  One day, it will be.

Love you Daddy.  Miss you