A Glass Act.

   Being kind has no particular season, it's doable any time of year, any day and most of all, just because it's a wonderful thing to be.   The world always needs more kindness.
 A real class act understands that the something that seems quite trivial to one person, may mean a great deal more to another.  
  Ten years ago Josh's Mom had purchased two glass tumblers from the dollar store, they had Pooh and Tigger on them and Josh quickly became very fond of them.  
Sometime before the great push of Christmas this year, one of those favoured glasses was accidentally broken.   Josh's mom knew while right away this may not be of crisis proportions but at some point in the near future, the lack of these glasses that Josh so adores, could be the centre of great upset and anxiety for him.    Josh is a funny, generally happy go lucky young adult,  with very specific likes and dislikes; those likes actually more very strong fixations.    Josh also happens to be autistic.
  Mom being the wise and proactive thinker she is, went into action.    Reaching out on Facebook to see if there was anyone whom might just have one or two of these rare glasses, which she might be able to purchase, she was met with great response.

  Josh's mom was both very touched and impressed with how quickly and how willingly people; strangers, who didn't know Josh,  jumped in to help, searching online with ebay, facebook marketplace, specialty shops and more. One kind soul in particular drove from Bridgenorth to drop off glasses.  Furthermore,  none of these people were seeking any payment for the glasses.   These people simply understood the need, empathized and wanted to be ensure any such   upset in the loss of these very cherished glasses was avoided.

  With so much happening in the world that readily demonstrates negative human nature, we seek stories of positive human nature.   In this instant it was a most pleasant surprise to have such a positively generous and kind response!   This is just one instance of the warmth and genuine kindness we all possess, and demonstrates the value in believing there is always hope for every one of us.
Be kind, Be a Glass Act!  

Everyone needs a little Silly

Keep a little silly in you, always.   <3 p="">
Remembering our darling Dash.   So loved, so missed.

Paws of the Heart.

Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives.

John Galsworthy

This morning we awoke to a loud silence, while first awakening to the sound of him shaking out his coat and as always, just before an excited leap to the floor in anticipation of his first morning stroll.
It was all imagined of course, well, except for the loud silence and we will be hearing all of those
imagined sounds for some time I am sure.

Yesterday we made what was both the most difficult, while also the easiest decision in the very early hours of the morning.   The most difficult decision in that it is never easy to say goodbye, to let a loved one go and the easiest in wishing to give our beloved Dash the most dignified and pain free means to rest, possible.

It is with very heavy hearts we bid our beautiful golden boy Dash, farewell.   Dash, our golden, wavy haired Dachshund -Terrier took his final breath while in my husbands arms shortly after 9 a.m .

Today all of our daily rituals and routines are changed.   We feel so lost.   You've surely heard it said before, but it is so very true in you are instantly made; painfully, aware, just how much our fur babies are a very large part of our families, of our hearts.

Dash was such a bright, funny, incredibly loving and carefree personality.    To anyone who did not know him well, in first being acquainted with him, he would seem a little curmudgeon perhaps in his vocal approach to one.    He had this "HEY, who are you" bark and "grumble" under his breath way of approaching newcomers to the hood...to his property, front door or entry hall.    Always though, once in, he would follow them into the living room and immediately prop himself in best posture, right next to them as they took a seat.   From that moment on it was stated clearly by Dash, "This is a friend",   His next move might be to gently nudge their hand for a little pet or pleasant scratch of his back or behind his ears.

Well, enough said for now.    You get the picture or at least I hope you do.    Dash entered into our hearts from the moment he stood at our daughters legs and chose us for his family.   She teared up and said, I think he's the one and he most certainly was.     Not as much time as we would have liked at just under eleven years, but then again it could never have been enough time.  We loved him with every inch of our being and he is missed immensely, but still fills our heart with so many wonderful memories from here forward.   You are still with us Dash and always will be.    

Pick yourself up and dust yourself off....go forward..Keep trying.

I'm looking back to my blogs for 2018.    Blogs for 2018....at only 2!   Whaaaat?    This saddens me and once again I'm wondering what the heck has happened to me.

Last year; 2018,  started off with the most difficult time I have ever experienced, in the loss of my Dad.
For that reason alone it seems slightly ironic that I have only written twice in the past year when I have much to write about.
Maybe it's that I have so much to write but also feel it might not be anything anyone cares to read about.   Having said that I hear my inner voice saying, "Who the hell cares if they don't read it?".   I then answer myself; scary, I know, "Just write because you need to let it all out!".    Hmmmm, good answer.

I have found many people along the way very inspirational and through that found myself working to keep looking ahead, plan, persevere, do what you can do, do things you once did, keep living life.   At times I've felt like I needed a roman candle lit beneath me, someone to ignite the spark I know is there, but lies dormant and waiting; for what I don't know.  

Loss hurts, it sucks, though we know death is part of life.   Knowing it comes doesn't make it ANY easier when it comes, if at all only the very slightest because Dad was ready; by his own admission.
If only it were as easy as picking yourself up and dusting yourself off.   All we can do is try and I will try.

Said or Unsaid.

I LOVE YOU.

You don't have to say I LOVE YOU to relay your love for someone.    If someone you are very close to , someone you've been with a long time, someone you've been through a great deal with, it is likely they know how loved they are.    Without even saying the words, it is likely you are already there, the love is greatly felt. I am grateful however to be able to say it out loud, just because.   I'm an emotional being and if I bottle things up it will only come out in an emotional mess....amid tears.

My heart swells up at times in saying "I love you", because I know even saying the words cannot fully convey just how deeply I care for the people I am saying it to.  Each person I share those words with may be loved in a different context, but each one will know they are greatly thought of and cared for.  Even if you've never uttered those words before, your loved ones will feel and know your love through your actions, moments shared, smiles shared and simply through understanding between you.

It's never too late to say I LOVE YOU, so if you feel the desire to, just DO IT.  It's a similar thing to hugging and I make no apologies, but only if you wish...I'm that person too!

Remembering the first time, the last time?

Having a client who enjoys country music I have been keeping a country station at the ready in my car for our outings.    I once listened to country a lot and never imagined not listening to it, but growing through music the kids enjoyed over the years, feel so far behind listening to all the "new country".   Back in the day Randy Travis, Allan Jackson, Garth Brooks and Travis Tritt and Terri Clark were the "New country" and I knew many of the songs by heart.    It's weird to have the music on and NOT know the songs or many of   of the words, like trying to join in a conversation and it's all a foreign language.

Recently returning from a trip to the grocery store a song played that sounded a little more familiar, but it didn't have anything to do with my knowing any of the words, it had to do with the context of the song.   I found myself feeling a little sad and melancholy as it played on.    It saddened me to know just how relatable it was.   I guess, you know, don't cry because it's over but smile because it happened.

We've all heard "there's a first time for everything", one of my Grampa's favourite sayings, but this song was, "A last time for everything", and it really struck a chord!   I could have pulled over to cry, kind of chord!    It made me think, when was the last time I played with my kids, played dressup, or when was the last time my children put cookies out for Santa, when was the last time I went for a drive with my Dad?    I guess there's a reason for keeping track of firsts as opposed to the lasts, we all look back and it's hard enough on the heart and very bitter sweet remembering the firsts, but trying to recall the last can feel a little like trying to swallow that jagged little pill.  Dad hasn't been gone even a month but I suspect I will revisit this feeling and the sentiment of remembering firsts and lasts an awful lot.

The song rings true, there is a last time for everything, but we really don't want to think about those wonderful moments coming to an end.    What we do need to think of is just making the best of every moment and first or last, party on, keep making memories, ride the wave, live in the moment and know you lived it well!   I don't mind the country music and happy to know there are as many upbeat "living is good" songs as there are about that sad breakup or just bummed out by life song.

Country music or otherwise, keep a tune in your heart, keep calm and just keep living that life!

Bibbity, Bobbity, Boobs please!

Apparently my Fairy Godmother never appeared, no bibbity bobbity here, never to grant those wishes I may have lust for in my youth, and perhaps a blessing in not getting what I wanted but not so certain I got what I needed.

As if the pains of starting high school, teenage, and adolescence weren't enough, I quickly realized I was a late bloomer, it was horrific!   Yep, when everyone else seemed to be growing upwards and outwards, I was not and longed for just that with great desperation.  One thing I was happy for were my cute little feet, I liked my feet and they were "normal" looking.

Today, so much different...I am quite content now with what I was eventually endowed with for breasts and scoff at the thought of my immature desire for more.   My feet, well, another part of me that decided to grow late in my growth, when I would have been quite content for them to stay just as they were!    Those once cute little feet are now an 8 to 8 1/2, sometimes 9 and sport some interestingly unwanted changes these past few years that no longer allow me to view them as cute.  My feet; to me, seem more sassquatch in nature and certainly not anything I or anyone would be fawning over.

Had there been a visit from a Fairy Godmother, she obviously tried to teach me a lesson in what warrants wishing for and maybe a little bit of appreciate what you have...or had, or else!

Hmmm, Become a Comic Book Hero or Learn How to Dress...what to do?

The weather is changing again...the temps outside have been up and
down of lately and of one extreme to another.

Speaking of weather systems, holy crow, my internal body is a natural disaster!!      In a flash, no seriously a FLASH, I feel nauseous , too slick to touch, a fear of spontaneous combustion  and greatly panicked like that of someone caught in a fire and wondering where the closest exit is!   Move over Flash Gordon, I may very well steal your title, THE FLASH!!   Yes, I too could be a comic book hero.

Being a comic book hero may not suit everyone, so perhaps someone should create a course for those crossing the threshold into menopause...HEY over HERE, that's ME...I'll sign up!    A course that teaches us exactly how to dress for this new, very special "condition"  we have come to, yes, 101 How to Dress For Menopause in Any Season.    I am torn between continuing to wear summer attire...BENEATH, warm fall sweaters and full length pants; well prepared for a stripping down in dire need.    Perhpas an all cotton linen wardrobe, or join a nudist colony somewhere and only dress at all when travelling off grounds!   Getting dressed can induce great fear in simply having no clue which season to dress for, despite the obvious season presently at hand outside.  Oh the challenges one faces with weather and how to weather menopause and all of it's intriguing effects!

I'm a mess at times but with continued patience and  learning, I will achieve a wearable wardrobe again or become a comic book hero, or a nudist.    I am a survivor and this is the small stuff so I won't sweat it.   Well, yes I will ...a lot.     ;)

...Not Quite so Nearly Naked.

So there I was seeking out a washroom, while strolling short corridors within' the diagnostic imaging department in a fabulously fashionable gown...actually two.   Two gowns.   How wonderful of someone to have finally decided it is not terribly dignifying to wonder about, whilst ones buttocks with their sideways smile, make an unannounced appearance directly behind you, ahead of everyone else.  
Being asked; by random people in a meeting, "Are you looking for your clothes?", made me considerably grateful I was clothed in some degree at that very moment.
Someone was clever enough to initiate the "first gown goes front facing and second gown rear facing" ensemble which gives one the extra layer of security in feeling not quite so nearly naked.
My clothes safely kept in a nearby change cubicle and I, safely kept in two gowns.

The Season made me do it...again!

Saturday morning, showering, changing the towels; retrieved from the linen closet, in the hall, I realize something is happening.    I realize it as soon as I go to closet, then open the door. It begins.
The report to authorities reads like, "I didn't know I was going to do it, it just happened!", I explain and then, "Honestly I have no idea what came over me!".
Clearly the last part of the statement is a lie.    It's a lie, because I know after sooooo many years of seasons arriving and departing, this is not an uncommon occurrence.

Almost officially Autumn and despite being very weary and with soooo many things gnawing at my thoughts, it happens, whether I  really WANT to or not, a rage of epic cleaning proportions occurs. An inner clock of sorts, ringing like there's no tomorrow and it won't stop until I pay it mind, like an unspoken duty only I (suddenly) am made aware of internally.  
Hubby is like, "Had you planned to do this, this morning?".
I reply, "No, no....", feeling on the verge of tears.    I had not planned this.   Like an illness suddenly having taken over my being, by every inch, I am fully involved.   Lost to an unexpected event.   It's like the weather event, the weather forecast didn't actually forecast, it just happened.   It's a love/hate relationship with the change of season.    My body like someone taken over by demonic powers, gives itself over to the deed.
In the end, somehow all is wonderfully zen as I look upon the results of this unplanned takeover.

Once again, the season's change made me do it, but oddly, I'm into it!   Viva la season!!!!

Tying One On.

Since February visions of summer and what it "might be" began to 'dash away'.   The earliest hint of a possible change showing itself before Christmas.

Well, it's nearly summer's end and two months post surgery for my Hubby.   Of course there are a few long term side affects; while not permanent, which he struggles with but he's a trooper and working hard to push past all of that and carry on.

Hubby was diagnosed in February with prostate cancer, following 3 PSA tests and a biopsy.  An especially scary time for him looking ahead, but as well for myself like a recurring nightmare.   The timeline, far too familiar and those words "...well, unfortunately'...",  weighed so heavily upon us both.  Not at all what we had expected; but never what you expect to hear at any rate.

In part of his personal healing process Hubby had his first tattoo!    He has never indicated before that he would like one, but not long after his surgery and beginning to reflect on the experience he announced to me he was going to get a tattoo honouring his victory in the battle!   He sports the two tone blue necktie for Prostate Cancer Canada on his arm and I must say, I find it rather sexy!   His tattoo is a reminder of his strength even when he felt his weakest.  I appreciate how proud he feels in coming through this experience and isn't afraid to talk about it with others, which in turn may just help someone else.    I'm happy to have been his support and caregiver after he was most certainly my biggest support through my own experience; sometimes literally the shoulder I cried on.

And now, we raise a glass to moving forward, healing in our own way, living life, and making more plans, we say BRING IT, we'll take it on!

* As a footnote, Tattoo's are one's personal expression on a canvas that is their own.  For my Husband it means a great deal to have added this design to his person.    His first tattoo and it carries much pride in winning at his fight against cancer!