Be Living With Irony

In the last six months, I have endured the most devastating and richest time of my life.

I am living through metaphors and irony daily. I should have paid more attention in English Twelve so that I could figure this all out.

Irony, ironic, paradoxical.

Sitting where I am today, I know that I will never be able to ‘make sense’ of my mom’s cancer journey and death.

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But I will look at the irony and beauty that has come from this beast of a year.

The irony that the hard times are when you find your deep friends, the ones that you can never repay, come be at your side, feel free to weep with on a daily basis and organize decorations from 500 kilometres away for mom’s funeral without question.

The letting go of people that just don’t get what you are going through and the deepening of friendships of those that know the profound earth shattering feeling of losing your mom.

The yanking apart of my family so that I could be at Mom’s side.

The incredible pillar of strength deep within my husband so that he could be all things for me and the boys when we needed it throughout this entire journey. Sexy Neck has a deep, deep well. What a gift he has been.

My dad, oh my dad. We were close before we went to war to help mom, but now we have an honesty and camaraderie that makes us teammates and friends.

Sweet victory.

Sad loss.

Richness.

Devastation.

Beauty.

Beast.

Life.

Death.

Light.

Darkness.

Irony.

Living in it, through it, with it, every day!

Be Making a Half Pipe

We went to our Vtown library today.

Cancelled mom’s account.

Had a cry with our wonderful, caring library clerks.

Just a normal day in the hood.

Oh ya, we also got some books.

The boys picked up a skateboard book. They disappeared downstairs into Nana and Papa’s great basement.

While downstairs, they discovered this half pipe photo in the library book.

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My parents have always had plywood boards with cut outs in them to create and play with. We had them as kids, then we gave them to our local elementary school in PG.

A few years ago, my dad made five more wooden boards for the grand kids to make forts, stores, and theatres with.

Today was a first for the boards in the Jenkins’ family – a half pipe.

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I wonder what Nana would say.