The reinvention of Mom.
Or grasping at straws……… mid life crisis or mid-mania survival….
It could be many things, this latest phase I have fallen into. But none the less, here I am.
As far as we’ve come in our grieving process, I am still very much, stuck.
I’ve been filled with pure joy, adding Gabs (Gabrielle that is) to our family. And with high hopes and positive thoughts I started a brand new job at the end of my maternity leave; with a huge organization, with many future possibilities. Perhaps I could upgrade my education over the years, or bump around the organization trying new things, really there were a lot of options.
However, after a number of months I’ve realized I am doing nothing more than treading water.
Putting in time, for a huge organization that is just that… a HUGE organization. I was a number. A number at the bottom.
I’ve recently come to the realization that my socialization has really screwed me over. A daughter of the modern ages, I’ve been taught I can do anything boys can do, AND all that my mother did.
Having never really know who I was or what I wanted I only clung to one truth.
I wanted a family. A family that included a cozy home, with children, relatives and friends we called relatives that came and went freely.
A bit idealistic to be sure but not entirely out of reach. Not beyond reality. I wasn’t dreaming of being an astronaut or brain-surgeon (I hate math).
Unfortunately reality being what it is, girls have to bend and break their daydreams to fit reality.
Where am I going with this you wonder?
I’ve decided that although I may never find a true career, that makes me jump out of bed in the morning and desire to work long days; at least I can make the rest of my life extra meaningful and fulfilling to make up the difference.
Which brings me to SRDL.
What is God’s name is SRDL? What is MummyAnge up to now?
WELL! I believe I have found my tribe. At the very least I’ve had an epiphany!
SRDL stands for Saskatoon Roller Derby League. Yes, roller, as in roller-skates; and, no, I have never done this before. Although I had looked into it a few years ago I was unsuccessful in finding any information about the local league. As happenstance would have it, at a Ladies Night at the local Dundurn bar, a woman announced that this league did in fact exist and we were welcome to come on out and try.
First, if you know me, and this is the first you are hearing of this, you are likely shocked. I am not athletic by any stretch of the imagination. In addition, to go try something new, potentially (STRONG potential) to embarrass and injure myself, goes against everything my anxiety-prone personality would typically allow. But I’m doing it.
I decided I needed something for me; something that my daughters can respect and perhaps aspire to. Something to stop my mind from thinking about all the issues we are having at home, with grief, with challenges with our children, with work, with council and community commitments and on and on.
I feel myself mesmerized by the skill, grace and confidence of the senior members of the SRDL. It's inspiring, and intimidating. I imagine in those moments of awe, I'm feeling what Reece felt when she'd watch kids on Barney sing & dance or hear a piano playing- completely absorbed in the moment and wondering "how can I do that?".
My hope is that by entering into a new and positive ‘obsession’ I can honor Reece by being a better mom, partner and person.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Monday, January 4, 2010
What you can't know
Things are not always this bad...however, truth be told- it's always somewhere just under the surface. Grieving the loss of a child, is a pain that lays in wait. Waiting for your weakest, quietest moments. And in those times, when I've been run down, tired, fed up with the day-to-day - it takes hold.
This is what I think about in those moments:
You can't know the pain that makes me sick to my stomach, late at night when the house is quiet and I am struck, with the very real fear that I may forget her smell.
You can't know what I grieve for late at night, when my girls sleep and I am terrified someone's God will steal them too.
You can't know the terror I feel late at night, when I realize that the world around me has moved on, and never remembers her, and who she'd be right now, what she'd be doing, how she'd be playing, how she would be loving all of us.
You can't know what it is to loose the star of the show, the light of my life, my reason for being.
You can't know this pain. Mother Nature will not allow it. It runs too deep. Your world would stop. You wouldn't forget.
You can't know how alone this is, and how much on these nights, I would give everything to be with her for just one moment.
Just one.
And as much as I beg and plead for that one moment, I can't have it.
I feel her slipping further away and there is nothing I can do. Nothing you can say.
Because you can't know.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
A Complaint Free World
I read today; an idea.
What if THIS is heaven?
I thought about this briefly and my first instinct was to panic a bit about how little time I may have here... and also the thought of - "then what"?
The question came from a book I've been reading about positive thought. The author was thinking aloud about the idea that life is what you make it.
Which I find refreshing considering the source. The author from what I understand is a preacher from a Christian Church in the United States. And I felt comforted, I suppose, that even someone with a strong belief system still questions the 'hear after'; and basically suggests "you better make this life really great, cause this could be all you have".
I've had a difficult time being positive since losing Reece. It certainly would be difficult for me to accept that this life I have had, has been my self-created version of heaven.
As far as I'm concerned, the past couple years have held more heart ache and pain then any version of hell I'd ever imagined.
After thinking a bit more I called my mother-in-law to come sit with the kids while I went to sit with Reece at the cemetery.
It's the most beautiful day.
Sunny, breezy and clear.
Her cemetery is the ultimate 'prairie experience'- a wide open expanse, defined by a hedge and surrounded by farmland. Nothing but blue sky going on and on forever.
There are a dozen or so pink roses in her vase on the monument. They all hang their head. As if they too feel as gutted and empty as I do in that moment.
When I first sat down (after first feeling offended by the state of the grass and large dandilions gone to seed) I intended on writing.
But instead I placed some small bright-yellow daisy-like flowers in with the sad pink roses.
A stark contrast.
The symbolism was not lost on me.
Reece was the sun in my life.
I cried and for the first time since I was a child I spoke to 'God'. I asked for a sign. Something tangible.
Some way of knowing that I'll see her again.
That 'this' isn't IT.
My thoughts turned immediately to Gabby and I thought perhaps that, that is my only sign. Maybe the sign that things will get better is that I am still here, despite my many pleas for God to take me too; so I could be with her.
I am still here and therefore, I must make it better myself.
Now, as I type this a few weeks removed from when I wrote it originally, I'm left to still wonder, what if this is it- I'm empowered now to make 'THIS" better but have not given up the small hope that there is something after this world.
What if THIS is heaven?
I thought about this briefly and my first instinct was to panic a bit about how little time I may have here... and also the thought of - "then what"?
The question came from a book I've been reading about positive thought. The author was thinking aloud about the idea that life is what you make it.
Which I find refreshing considering the source. The author from what I understand is a preacher from a Christian Church in the United States. And I felt comforted, I suppose, that even someone with a strong belief system still questions the 'hear after'; and basically suggests "you better make this life really great, cause this could be all you have".
I've had a difficult time being positive since losing Reece. It certainly would be difficult for me to accept that this life I have had, has been my self-created version of heaven.
As far as I'm concerned, the past couple years have held more heart ache and pain then any version of hell I'd ever imagined.
After thinking a bit more I called my mother-in-law to come sit with the kids while I went to sit with Reece at the cemetery.
It's the most beautiful day.
Sunny, breezy and clear.
Her cemetery is the ultimate 'prairie experience'- a wide open expanse, defined by a hedge and surrounded by farmland. Nothing but blue sky going on and on forever.
There are a dozen or so pink roses in her vase on the monument. They all hang their head. As if they too feel as gutted and empty as I do in that moment.
When I first sat down (after first feeling offended by the state of the grass and large dandilions gone to seed) I intended on writing.
But instead I placed some small bright-yellow daisy-like flowers in with the sad pink roses.
A stark contrast.
The symbolism was not lost on me.
Reece was the sun in my life.
I cried and for the first time since I was a child I spoke to 'God'. I asked for a sign. Something tangible.
Some way of knowing that I'll see her again.
That 'this' isn't IT.
My thoughts turned immediately to Gabby and I thought perhaps that, that is my only sign. Maybe the sign that things will get better is that I am still here, despite my many pleas for God to take me too; so I could be with her.
I am still here and therefore, I must make it better myself.
Now, as I type this a few weeks removed from when I wrote it originally, I'm left to still wonder, what if this is it- I'm empowered now to make 'THIS" better but have not given up the small hope that there is something after this world.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
reality strikes
re-typed from a journal entry written Sunday May 31.
It's a sunny day. 12 noon. The town is buzzing with activity. Out my breezy bedroom curtain I can hear Aiden running around the house, the porch door banging in the wind, a few lawn mowers working away, our dog's collar tags jingling as he runs through our yard. I lay on my bed tears streaming watching Gabby sleep on my bed.
Again today reality hit me. Reminding me of what I have lost. Kathy- Grant's Mom, who lives a block away found a box of Reece's clothing and other items (a Dora doll etc) in her garage. Grant and I looked through it quickly, most of it was new clothes that she had not worn yet. Most still had the tags on. I could barely remember the items. But there was a pair of light blue jeans and a light aqua blue t-shirt, that I thought I could remember her wearing. I often dressed her in blues because of her amazing blue eyes- like nothing I'd seen before. Like she could see through you.
In the faint hope of holding on to her in some small way I smelled the shirt.
I can barely write this as I now know how painful it was in that moment, and is now, to realize her smell was not on that shirt. Then I cried with the realization that all trace of her existence here in our home here in our world has been erased by time. I can barely remember her smell.
Right now I look at Gabby and with that I could hold her the way I would hold Reece. Her head nestled into my neck her hand on my shoulder, with her blankie in hand....
I know there's no use.
It's not the same.
I'll never have that back.
I told Grant this morning that I had done such a good job keeping it 'together' over the past month but now faced with another reminder of what we've lost I can't fake my happiness, my strength or my 'normalcy' today.
Today I am weak.
I am sad.
I am angry.
I am grieving.
It's a sunny day. 12 noon. The town is buzzing with activity. Out my breezy bedroom curtain I can hear Aiden running around the house, the porch door banging in the wind, a few lawn mowers working away, our dog's collar tags jingling as he runs through our yard. I lay on my bed tears streaming watching Gabby sleep on my bed.
Again today reality hit me. Reminding me of what I have lost. Kathy- Grant's Mom, who lives a block away found a box of Reece's clothing and other items (a Dora doll etc) in her garage. Grant and I looked through it quickly, most of it was new clothes that she had not worn yet. Most still had the tags on. I could barely remember the items. But there was a pair of light blue jeans and a light aqua blue t-shirt, that I thought I could remember her wearing. I often dressed her in blues because of her amazing blue eyes- like nothing I'd seen before. Like she could see through you.
In the faint hope of holding on to her in some small way I smelled the shirt.
I can barely write this as I now know how painful it was in that moment, and is now, to realize her smell was not on that shirt. Then I cried with the realization that all trace of her existence here in our home here in our world has been erased by time. I can barely remember her smell.
Right now I look at Gabby and with that I could hold her the way I would hold Reece. Her head nestled into my neck her hand on my shoulder, with her blankie in hand....
I know there's no use.
It's not the same.
I'll never have that back.
I told Grant this morning that I had done such a good job keeping it 'together' over the past month but now faced with another reminder of what we've lost I can't fake my happiness, my strength or my 'normalcy' today.
Today I am weak.
I am sad.
I am angry.
I am grieving.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Motherhood is a blessing. And a curse.Like the famous quote says: becoming a mother is to forever thereafter watch your heart walk around outside of your body.
This is true.
As our finale fundraiser for the Reece Ryde Memorial Park Fund we are selling tickets to a Mother's Day Buffet supper to be held on Sunday May 10th @ 5 pm at the Dakota Dunes Casino. Tickets are $15/person and you must of course be over 19 to attend. We will be giving out a couple door prizes. The Grand prize being the signed Anika Soremstan tour golf bag donated by Callaway. This is a valuable prize as Anika has now retired from the sport!
Please contact our friends/family or email or call us @ home to get tickets. What better way to thank your mom for a job well done- than a great supper! And skip the line-ups at the busy restaurants!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Where We Stand
This is just a quick note, for all our friends, family and blog followers :) To let you know just where we are with regard to the Park development and Reece Ryde Memorial Park Fund.
Once the ground thaws, we have one small addition to make to the main play structure. All equipment has been paid for and is in place. We currently have a few golf-related items that were generously donated last year, that we will be raffling off (tickets will be ready to go in March- see sidebar for more info). I expect to meet with volunteers in Spring to discuss what will go in the park for landscaping items. This will largely be decided by the school, as they have already met with a landscaper last year for their own purposes of improving the look of the elementary school grounds. I believe she provided them with a list of appropriate plants, trees and shrubs that would do well in our climate and soil. After the landscaping/planting etc is complete, I would assume we will have some funds left over.
There's been much debate on what to do with the remaining funds. Initially we had hoped to be able to purchase a piece of equipment or pay for some kind of training (if wanted) for the Dundurn and Area's First Responder's however, it seems the only thing they are in need of is a new fire hall :) and now perhaps a new firetruck, from what I overheard at the last Town Council meeting... unfortunately we won't have THAT much left over ;) ha
Most importantly the money must be spent in a way that improves the lives of preschool children in Dundurn. That has always been the goal.
If you have any suggestions please do not hesitate to contact us! And we will keep you posted on any further developments! Hope we see you in the park :)
Once the ground thaws, we have one small addition to make to the main play structure. All equipment has been paid for and is in place. We currently have a few golf-related items that were generously donated last year, that we will be raffling off (tickets will be ready to go in March- see sidebar for more info). I expect to meet with volunteers in Spring to discuss what will go in the park for landscaping items. This will largely be decided by the school, as they have already met with a landscaper last year for their own purposes of improving the look of the elementary school grounds. I believe she provided them with a list of appropriate plants, trees and shrubs that would do well in our climate and soil. After the landscaping/planting etc is complete, I would assume we will have some funds left over.
There's been much debate on what to do with the remaining funds. Initially we had hoped to be able to purchase a piece of equipment or pay for some kind of training (if wanted) for the Dundurn and Area's First Responder's however, it seems the only thing they are in need of is a new fire hall :) and now perhaps a new firetruck, from what I overheard at the last Town Council meeting... unfortunately we won't have THAT much left over ;) ha
Most importantly the money must be spent in a way that improves the lives of preschool children in Dundurn. That has always been the goal.
If you have any suggestions please do not hesitate to contact us! And we will keep you posted on any further developments! Hope we see you in the park :)
Monday, February 2, 2009
Live in the Moment
Finally! I think I am learning to live in the moment.
I've found I've always 'wished' my time away. Always focusing on what was to come and not taking the effort to focus on today.
This was especially true for the time I spent with our girls when they were babies.
When they were newborns, I wished for them to be a couple months old, so they would be sleeping through the nights and beginning to be more 'interactive'. Then when they were a few months old, looking forward to when they would start solid foods, and start 'talking'.
I realize now, I was wishing away my precious time with them. Although I of course have fond memories of all of those stages with the Aiden and Reece, I don't think that I really took the time each day to appreciate it for what it was.
Thankfully, whether it is due to my age, or just circumstances being what they are, I'm truly enjoying each and everyday with Gabby, and taking it all in. I have caught myself thinking and saying that I don't want her grow up! That I'm enjoying our time together. I love our middle of the night feedings and cuddles. I often find myself frozen in a snuggle long after her bottle has been finished! And I think, "It's late! I should go to bed!" but I can't move! I just want to listen to her little baby breathing and her self-soothing sighs she makes.
This 'living in the now' thing is a hard change for me to make. I often am tempted to take on projects and jobs that I find interesting, without initially realizing it will take time away from what is important to focus on TODAY. Now that I realize I do this, I'm hoping that I'll now be able to recognize when I'm ABOUT to do it. But this comes with maturity and practice I suppose.
I'm thankful that although, some lessons are learned late in life, they are not learned too late.
I'm posting a video Grant took of Gabby and I enjoying some time together the other day. She has been trying so very very hard to communicate with us. Yesterday while watching the Superbowl with her Daddy, she copied some of his "oohs". A proud moment for Daddy :)
I added the following video the day after the original post. Gabby loves talking with her Dad!
I've found I've always 'wished' my time away. Always focusing on what was to come and not taking the effort to focus on today.
This was especially true for the time I spent with our girls when they were babies.
When they were newborns, I wished for them to be a couple months old, so they would be sleeping through the nights and beginning to be more 'interactive'. Then when they were a few months old, looking forward to when they would start solid foods, and start 'talking'.
I realize now, I was wishing away my precious time with them. Although I of course have fond memories of all of those stages with the Aiden and Reece, I don't think that I really took the time each day to appreciate it for what it was.
Thankfully, whether it is due to my age, or just circumstances being what they are, I'm truly enjoying each and everyday with Gabby, and taking it all in. I have caught myself thinking and saying that I don't want her grow up! That I'm enjoying our time together. I love our middle of the night feedings and cuddles. I often find myself frozen in a snuggle long after her bottle has been finished! And I think, "It's late! I should go to bed!" but I can't move! I just want to listen to her little baby breathing and her self-soothing sighs she makes.
This 'living in the now' thing is a hard change for me to make. I often am tempted to take on projects and jobs that I find interesting, without initially realizing it will take time away from what is important to focus on TODAY. Now that I realize I do this, I'm hoping that I'll now be able to recognize when I'm ABOUT to do it. But this comes with maturity and practice I suppose.
I'm thankful that although, some lessons are learned late in life, they are not learned too late.
I'm posting a video Grant took of Gabby and I enjoying some time together the other day. She has been trying so very very hard to communicate with us. Yesterday while watching the Superbowl with her Daddy, she copied some of his "oohs". A proud moment for Daddy :)
I added the following video the day after the original post. Gabby loves talking with her Dad!
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