Hockey in Vtown finished this afternoon. We love the coach, Z! She is the perfect balance of firm, fun and technical skills. She has continued to fuel our boys love for hockey.
We love the midweek connection we have had with papa and nana.
But frankly, I am exhausted. All of this driving, delving back and forth into my old life and how this season of our lives has unfolded.
I am happy/sad. My life is a dichotomy of mixed emotions most of the time, this is just another simple example.
OC got his first stick today:
OC is a star hanging out for two hours while his brothers skate.
In my family of origin, there have been expectations on how to do things. In most cases, ‘Get er done!’ runs supreme. The quicker the better.
Recently the debate has been on about how to finish off our kitchen. I want to leave the cupboards open. I love my jars. People outside my family of boys have strong feelings that the kitchen crap should be hidden away behind a door.
In our household, we have two distinct ways to lode our dishwasher. One of us likes to rinse and stack before putting them in the dishwasher. The other likes to throw em in and ‘Get er done!’. Guess who did this wonderful stacking?
Is there a right or a wrong way? Really there isn’t.
Next CC and I have had a puzzling week. He is a four year old on fire for puzzles. But I noticed something curious. In my family of origin, we always flipped all the pieces over then did the outside edge first. CC always started by putting the pictures and similar colours first and would even flip over pieces as he went.
Is he doing it wrong? Someone might correct him. Not me! I love allowing my children the opportunity to listen to their own ways to do things.
Today in my anger, I had a breakthrough.
In this Post-Industrial Age where we don’t need to be perfect doing the same task over and over and over. I want to experience more freedom on how to ‘Get er done!’ while being cast adrift on my boat of grief.
In light of my letting go of this mentality of having one way to do crap, I think of John Travolta who mispronounced Indina Menzel’s name on the Oscar’s. I heard on the radio the opinion that he shouldn’t have introduced anyone if he couldn’t do it perfectly. Really? Who can judge perfection these days and who hasn’t made a mistake? We are teetering on a fine line when we expect perfection from our families, people around us and celebrities. Let’s stop hiding and realize there is more than one way to do most crap.
I am grateful for good old John for ‘Staying Alive’. Not only did he show his humanness, he introduced me to my new theme song: Let It Go.
Let it go.
The wind is howling.
I couldn’t let it go.
Heavens know I tried.
To be a good girl.
Distance.
Smallness.
No fears.
No right.
No wrong.
No rules.
I AM FREE!
The perfect girl is gone.
The storm still rages.
But I stand.
The cold has never bothered my anyways.
(Song lyrics from the movie Frozen, thank you Disney for letting me paraphrase).
In my grief, I am learning to hold captive to every moment. As winter comes to a close here, I decided to take the boys for one more skate on the outdoor rink.
JC and CC loved racing and playing tag. OC took his first tentative steps on his ‘cheese cutter’ skates.
We all had a blast.
Yup, those are boats in the background. We are skating right beside the lake.
CC with a full mask of snow courtesy of his big brother.
Well, we did until I started painting it white. As I covered over its dark and smoke-filled bricks with freshness, I began to think of my mom’s four hospital stays:
August 5th to 22nd
October 31st to November 3rd
November 17th to 20th
December 14-20
She spent her finally days on earth peacefully at Hospice from December 20th to 26th.
My mom had previously stayed at the hospital twice, once when she gave birth to my sister in 1971 then three years later when she gave birth to me.
This fireplace with all it’s nooks and crannies, tested my patience, bombarded me with emotions and almost made me give up. But like the hospital, my sole purpose was to keep my eye on my goal. My goal at the hospital was to get the best care for my mom and my goal for this fireplace was to get ‘er done.
I can’t say I enjoyed many moments in my mom’s last week in the hospital fighting for mom not to be moved again, fighting for pain medication and trying to enjoy my beautiful mom. I can’t say I enjoyed painting this fireplace. It took FIVE coats of paint and hundred of thousands of dab dab dab’s with the paintbrush.
I told Sexy Neck that the next time this thing needs to be painted I am going to take a sledgehammer and take it down instead.
The boys had fun attacking the fireplace with paint. It was very forgiving. They had fun!
The final product:
The newly painted double-sided fireplace.
I am afraid this painting has shown me that the fireplace may be done but my hospital journey is not.
I will wait.
I will do my work.
I will heal.
I will be back at that hospital making it better for other cancer patients.
I am a voracious reader. Well, I used to be anyways. On average, before mom got sick, I would be reading four books at any one time. Usually one bible study, one non-fiction and two fiction books would be stacked on my beside table.
Last week at mom and dad’s house, I looked on mom’s book shelf beside her bed. On the top of the pile, I found this book I gave her in November which was one of the last books she read.
I picked the book because of it’s title and wintery scene. I didn’t even read the back.
I remember asking mom about it after she read it in two days flat. She said it was a good light read and that I should read it.
Today, I looked at the book summary. It’s about ‘three people at the crossroads of heartbreak and healing’. One of the characters lost her mom and no longer believes in anything. She believes her mom now speaks to her through heart-shaped rocks.
I may have to start reading again.
P.S. Sexy Neck just walked in the room and saw the book on my lap and asked, “Are you reading again?”
Me, I am still at maybe… Not sure my brain can handle it.
I realized as I started painting YET ANOTHER item in our house tonight that my sole purpose of painting is to create new life.
Life without my mom a phone call away.
Life without my mom to negotiate schooling and my boys. Schools aren’t the best places for boys these days!
Life without my mom at our sides reading, laughing, cooking, exploring and painting.
I am not completely sure what this new life here in KCity is going to look like. My grief-filled emotional brain doesn’t know what to do in this new life.
So I paint.
I actually don’t really like painting and haven’t painted before.
BUT as I move my brush back and forth in silence tonight, I felt myself moving forward.
The sense of working out my grief.
Peeling off layers of grief as I add layers of paint.
Create new life in the things around me.
Waiting for God to unfold my new life around me in His perfect timing.
Being in my home.
Completely present with my children.
Changing poops.
Making cushion forts.
Playing cars.
Painting.
Resting.
Being.
One brush stroke at a time.
New life.
(I finished the fireplace tonight and had some extra white paint. I attacked our bedside tables that have been in Sexy Neck’s family for many years and probably are older than us.)
What did you yearn to have in your childhood home?
A cozy place to snuggle and read?
A place to climb?
A home for your dolls and toys?
Since the day we moved into our house last summer, our boys have wanted to build a fort/Maisonnette under the stairs.
A perfect hideaway.
A clubhouse.
A special space.
My heart longs to create a healing home where we can rest. As last week unfolded, I knew our family needed a project for the weekend. I immediately thought of the fort. We must have hit the right moment as the construction gears were in motion on Friday night about ten seconds after I mentioned the fort.
JC and Sexy Neck came up with the design. I cleaned out my stuff from under the stairs. The boys found some wood and they were off.
Here is the finished product on Sunday night:
The boys want to put wood on the sides, add a rope ladder, paint, add a curtain for privacy, a bookshelf and a few more nicknacks will come and go.
The boys were incredible working with their dad. Sexy Neck was amazing at involving the boys every step of the way. The were able to measure and cut wood. Problem solve when the wood wouldn’t fit on the platform. The boys screwed in the floorboard, OC was a natural. Finally, they got to choose everything that they wanted in the fort.
Building self-esteem.
Handwork.
Creating.
Bodies and minds in motion.
Encouraging.
The boys Maisonnette designed and created by them.
OC is a star hanging out for two hours while his brothers skate. 
After practice they had pizza for the players:
"Be" ENOUGH 