Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Cammy is

Writing to advise that she will post pictures soonish - likely next week. I am also writing to announce my frustration at forgetting my camera (especially when I have such a fantastic view from my Montreal hotel room).

Wednesday, June 18, 2008


When I wasn't a parent, I thought a graduation for pre-school (or kindergarten for that matter) was silly but now that I'm a parent I soak it up. I was proud of my sad and crowd-terrified boy today and sad that this chapter is coming to an end.

P.S. The guy in the yellow shirt is Davon, Hunter's best pre-school friend. I don't think either family will have a single picture without the two of them in it. Hunter may go camping with his family this summer - yikes! I'm so not ready for that.

One Day, One Hour, One Moment

At a time. I used to think of this as a mantra for recovering addicts but now I realize it's just an appropriate mantra for recovery. Or for dealing with something that when considered as a whole is overwhelming and is marginally more accomplishable if broken down into smaller pieces. A mantra I am whole heartedly embracing at the moment. The other factor I often attribute to recovering addicts is the idea of acceptance. This one is harder and some days are better than others but I'm trying to embrace it as well. Sometimes, though, I have these moments where I feel like I'm healing but I'm not entirely sure that I'm not just compartmentalizing or denying because sometimes the realization rushes and it's overwhelming all over again. And this is probably where faith comes in - faith that something somewhere has a plan and I just don't understand. This might be the hardest one, and the most necessary. But there have been great moments these last few weeks too - like "Mummy!"and graduation, and hugs and kisses, and spotting an oriole when out for run. And we're hanging in there.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008


One of my favourite things about my blog when I was keeping it up regularly was the dialogue it allowed me to have with my Dad. My Dad and I had always been close - I always looked up to him and prided myself in the ways we were alike. Some of my best conversations were 10 pm chats with my Dad. It was my Dad that I always called if it felt like my world was falling apart and I needed someone to talk to. And today he is gone. And I can't believe it. And I don't know what to do and this feels like a silly exercise because there must be something more productive I could do while waiting for the clothes to be ready to pack so we can catch our flight home to be with my Mum but I just don't know what that is. And I just can't believe he's gone. And I wish I had written that Father's Day letter to him that I wanted to write last year that was so hard to write because words really couldn't capture how much he meant to me. I wish I had written about the incredible strength he provided to us when my brother died. The evenness he brought to enraged teenaged battles. The calm wisdom. And I just can't believe he is gone. And I am so glad I hugged not long ago but God I just wish I had more time.