With all my heart

The words make me smile softly to myself as I read them.  I find it crumpled up, wet in a school bag days after the winter break has begun.  A piece of art that was tended to with care at the time, forgotten with the excitement of record snowfalls and the anticipation of Christmas.  I place it on the heat register to dry in the night without peaking inside it and remind Noah the following morning that he may have forgotten something in his bag.

It dawns on him when I mention it and he’s immediately concerned about where he misplaced his handmade card.  He makes a start for his school bag, I tell him it’s drying and he stops, relieved that its not lost for good.  Forgotten again for another 24 hours.  Presents, visitors, more snow and the excitement of Christmas morning.

I finally receive the card, hand delivered to me from the heat register after it being moved one or two more times.  Seemingly forgotten and un-important but given to me with a moment of care and pride.

“Here you go Mom, I made this for you…for you and Chris.”

“Thanks Noah.”

A hug and a kiss and he’s gone before I wrap my head around the words.

I read them again and I stare at the printed words on the page and his carefully drawn heart.  I sit and think about how far he’s come, how much he’s lost and how full of love he is today.   Makes me realize just how lucky I am.

Happy New Year to you and yours, may 2013 be full of joy for your family too!

Leslie

Making a Difference...Light the Night

Each year I raise money for the annual Light the Night Walk for Blood Cancer Research, as most of you know it is very near and dear to my heart having lost Mark to Leukemia in 2007.    I waffle as the years slip by as to how I can make a difference without imposing my passion year after year on the same people. 

It became apparent to me today and my apprehension about it was confirmed when a co-worker said to me … What?? (insert “ugh” here) you’re doing that again already??  Co-worker – not smiling… It’s been a whole year??   Long pause…silence.  

Not sure what the appropriate response should have been, but for a change – I was silenced.  No witty response back, no prepared answer.  The feisty part of me that thought of a handful or responses later in my office for the moment was extinguished.  Flattened for the afternoon.  I worked with my door shut as the afternoon sun poured in on me and I thought about what Mark would have said…

“Yep, the husband’s still dead…and it’s been a whole year so, yes, we’re raising money AGAIN so other Fathers can watch their children grow up and don’t have to die.”   Delivered with sarcasm of course.  I chuckled at myself (for a moment) for the shock value that would have delivered.  Then the tears started rolling down my cheeks. 

A small part of me is enraged by the fact that if it was current and in their everyday lives, peoples’ responses wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss it.   It’s easier to make an excuse than to put yourself in someone else’s shoes.   Until it’s real for you, or for someone you love – it’s easier to avoid.

I know I tread the line of polite donations from co-workers and acquaintances as I raise money for the 6^th year in a row, but I feel a drive from within to make a small dent in the race towards a cure.   I have got to hope that someone with the same disease that Mark had in 2006  (AML Leukemia) has a better chance of surviving it today than 6 years ago given the advances in research.  I do have faith that this is the case and this is what I tell my children when we invite others to donate to a cause that has affected us deeply.

If you are one of the people who smiled at my kids while dropping a tooney in their piggy bank this weekend know that you’ve made a difference to them.  ALL of the online donations to date have been cherished and meticulously added up by my budding (Grade 2 and Grade 5) mathematicians.   Their eyes sparkle as they realize that their Dad made a difference and they feel empowered to make a difference too.

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for supporting our family, 

http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=1630398&langPref=en-CA

Leslie, Audrey and Noah

Sunny afternoon in Osgoode

More sun...apples...and pumpkins!

14

The sound of the treadmill motor is comforting as I run to the beat of familiar songs.  The playlist, a surprise as the iPod is borrowed.  Mine lies on the unplugged dock, day 5, still waiting to be plugged in and charged ready for the next run.  I run, leisurely at first enjoying the fresh mix of songs.  I know each one well, but the order is unpredictable.  I like the change.

The window is open and the smell of wet cedar wafts in with the breeze.  It instantly brings me back to another place, another time.  The familiar smell of the West Coast, it’s unmistakable.  The air is warmer than expected for September, not the brisk reprieve I was hoping for as my cheeks grow hotter with each kilometer.

I run and hope that I can steal away 30 or 40 minutes to myself, as predicted the interruptions come, Noah first, then 15 minutes later his sister follows.  I am only mildly annoyed as I expected as much.  I am pleasantly surprised with myself for not over-reacting.   The day-to-day annoyance factor seems dulled tonight.  As long as the day was, I feel a heightened sense of enjoying the moment at hand.   I glance at the treadmills’ green and red lights flickering tracking my heart rate.  The thump of my feet is satisfying as I watch the last kilometer count down.

On the eve of what would have been my 14^th wedding anniversary I find myself smiling instead of crying.   Instead of being short with my kids tonight, I am more patient than I have been in months.  I stare at them in awe at what they have become and I wonder if Mark could have ever imagined them as they are today.

I’m not sad, so much as I am curious.  I wonder if I would be the person I am today if it were not for my marriage, if it were not for the challenges we faced with a diagnosis of cancer…I wonder where I would be if things had been different.  I trace a few possible scenarios in my head but they all seem unlikely given the life changing effect that cancer can have on a family.  It’s as though you can’t undo it.

I find myself thinking about the excitement of that night 14 years ago, wondering what the future held.  The possibilities seemed endless.  I never thought I’d ever have even a spark of that optimism again…I’m glad I was wrong.  

Hopeful feels good.

London calling, yes, I was there too...'An you know what they said, some of it was true!

Happy 45th Anniversary Mom and Dad!!

Dad then and now!!

Serious Easter

Happy Easter!

Lucky 7!

I remember this visit home with you.  We had come back to Ottawa with the kids for a week at the Chase Camp.  We spilled over into the Main Camp and barbequed Keg Steaks to everyone’s delight.   You taught me how to prepare the steaks that day just like they did at work.   A little oil, then Keg spice, they were perfect…as usual.

I remember taking this photograph,  we both laughed at the fact that I was taking a picture of you holding raw meat.  It was just another (perfect) day at the lake.  Good food, friends, family and laughter.

We all miss you...everyday.

My big-kid Noah

My pretty girl

Ready?...

My blog has stood at a stand still for months.  The time between posts over the last little while seems to be stretching, each one growing further apart as time goes on.  I think of sitting to write often, and have even tried over the last little while but my thoughts lately have felt too private, too loaded with effect to share.  Not sure if that makes sense to anyone else but me – but this is where my head has been at.

It’s interesting that as I struggle with new challenges I have become more private than ever before.  Definitely a shift for me as I have always been one to talk or “blog” it out.  Writing and sharing has become second nature to me as a way to cope, as a way to work through emotions but my blog has been quieter than ever before.    

I wonder what it is that is different now and why the reluctance to blog so freely as I once used to?  I have been drawn here many times over the last two weeks as the year drew to a close.  Who doesn’t like to look back with a little bit of nostalgia (and sometimes relief!) and then wonder about the fresh start that lies ahead?  If I look back right here I have done it most every year since I started this blog.  The year ahead always begs to be christened with hope and optimism but I haven’t been able to wrangle that feeling until now. 

Was it simply this annoying holiday cold that did me in?  I’m sure it had something to do with it, but I have found myself preoccupied with other thoughts that the year quietly slipped away and I woke to a new one before I was ready to welcome this one with open arms.   I wasn’t done with the last one yet, almost…just not quite.

I looked at the tree lying on it’s side in the front yard yesterday evening in the cool glow of the LED lights and it was then that I got the first hint that I was done.    As I walked to my car tonight after work I noticed how pretty the freshly fallen snow looked.  It glittered underneath the streetlight, clean and white, undisturbed.   I pressed my boots into the snow as I walked across the empty parking lot and smiled at the sound of my footsteps making their first impression on the New Year.