Wednesday, March 18, 2015
En Garde
I have been recently giving this concept some thought and I actually had a discussion around it with a male friend of mine. And just what the implications are. Now,"en garde" is generally used in fencing and it is a call for the fencers to get ready and assume their fencing stances. But digging a little further, I found some more. En garde literally means "on your guard" and it means to assume a defensive stance ready to be attacked. 
But here's the thing, for us women, this is how we live. And it came to my attention when I was at work. I was downtown doing my beer tasting and a gentleman who referred to himself "as a gay guy" remarked on how whenever they have tasters come into the shop the security guys hit on them without any regard to the personal space of the taster and how he. as a gay guy, found it amusing to watch. Now bear in mind, tasters are usually women. So as my shift played out, I was the recipient of exactly what that gentleman said. Two out of the three security guards, not only hit on me but pursued it to the point of wanting my phone number and one being somewhat touchy-feely. Which brings me back to how I started this blog: en garde. It's not something restricted to fencing. This may be an extreme example but you can find it anywhere.
Everywhere women go we are subjected to attention from males, wanted or not. Thus we live in a perpetual state of being "en garde." Constantly having to watch our back and be prepared to find a new, more convincing way to stave off unwanted attention; be that cat-calls, whistles, rude remarks or physical contact (yes I have been the recipient of all of the above). So apart from perhaps our own homes, when we venture out into the world, our mental/emotional/physical state is geared up, in a defensive stance against attack, in this case male attention. This is an exhausting way to live. Not only are we geared up to find a way to verbally stave off attention but it affects our physiology as well. Our physical bodies tighten up as a low level of flight/fight kicks in. And depending on the circumstances, that flight/fight mechanism can be stronger adding more stress to our system which will manifest physically/emotionally/mentally.
Although I have some theories, I am not about to wax on about what I think are the causal factors as to why men think this is appropriate. That is a different blog for a different day. However, I do know this: the toll that it takes on women is enormous and taxing. All because we are women: we live "en garde."
Monday, June 18, 2012
Grad Again
If any of you are following me, I havent udpated in who knows when. There has been a ton of stuff taht has been going on, most of which I need to keep clutched to my breast, unfortunately. At least for now.
However, there is one thing that I don't have to keep quiet and that is the grad of my beloved girl Missy. I remember back when Jeff graduated. She was terrified and upset and literally devastated. Why on such a glorious occasion? Well for her, Jeff's grad from Hope Lutheran School meant one thing: she was now the eldest Schwanebeck in the school and she did not feel up to the task. And yet, here we are, she is graduating Grade 8 leaving Jamie (well that is not entirely true, she is going to Hope High but that is on a different campus).
Now, she (and truthfully, I) wished that my boyfriend, Ron Dana, could have been there but alas, such was not to be. So instead, he did a crazy thoughtful thing. He ordered and delivered to her a wrist corsage and a bouquet.
And in true form, I took a ton of pictures of her (and the boys, they were all dressed up in their finery I wasn't going to miss that!) And you can see all of that here. And don't be surprised if your Christmas picture this year, is the one of all three of my kids. I think they look gorgeous.
But for Missy, I was able to get her hair done, I did her make-up and the dress she is wearing is one of the bridesmaid's dresses from my wedding. She got many compliments but I will let you be the judge becasue as we all know, she is my girl, so I believe she is the most beautiful girl anywhere!!! LOL But here is a teaser of a pic for you!
Congratulations my sweet princess!!!!
However, there is one thing that I don't have to keep quiet and that is the grad of my beloved girl Missy. I remember back when Jeff graduated. She was terrified and upset and literally devastated. Why on such a glorious occasion? Well for her, Jeff's grad from Hope Lutheran School meant one thing: she was now the eldest Schwanebeck in the school and she did not feel up to the task. And yet, here we are, she is graduating Grade 8 leaving Jamie (well that is not entirely true, she is going to Hope High but that is on a different campus).
Now, she (and truthfully, I) wished that my boyfriend, Ron Dana, could have been there but alas, such was not to be. So instead, he did a crazy thoughtful thing. He ordered and delivered to her a wrist corsage and a bouquet.
And in true form, I took a ton of pictures of her (and the boys, they were all dressed up in their finery I wasn't going to miss that!) And you can see all of that here. And don't be surprised if your Christmas picture this year, is the one of all three of my kids. I think they look gorgeous.
But for Missy, I was able to get her hair done, I did her make-up and the dress she is wearing is one of the bridesmaid's dresses from my wedding. She got many compliments but I will let you be the judge becasue as we all know, she is my girl, so I believe she is the most beautiful girl anywhere!!! LOL But here is a teaser of a pic for you!
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Mother's Day
Well, it has been awhile since I last updated. Today some things have been on my heart. It is Mother's Day and I have lived the outside extremes of Mother's Day. I have lived the home grown Mother's Day where dad helps kids make the breakfast in bed, then gone to extended family celebrations to honour the adult's mothers. And I have done the Mother's Day where I have to do it myself and pretend that the kids did a wonderful job puling it off all by themselves and how happy I am that they did. I have also done ALL the parenting on Mother's Day. The breaking up of the fights, the stepping in between the arguments and mediating and ensuring that everyone understands the position of the other and we all come to a happy resolution. In fact if there was one consistent theme for my Mother's Day, married or not, that was it.
And today arrived. And today started out the same and ended entirely different. Today I got breakfast in bed.
A few things didn't make it into this picture: the heart shaped pancakes and the Reese's Peanut Butter toast (courtesy of Jeffrey). And as you can see I have enough food to feed an army. So we sat on my bed and enjoyed breakfast, I opened my cards and my gift and had a morning with my kids.
And then my Mother's Day became unlike any other I have had. After a leisurely breakfast, Mother's Day ended. And we got ourselves together and took ourselves outside. The rest of my day was spent mowing the lawn (which by now had turned into a forest), finding a garden in and amongst the trees, clipping, trimming and clawing my way to a back yard that can actually suitably be called a backyard.
To give you some perspective. When we moved in here in November, there was no lawn mower. So our grass had not been mowed since last summer. I'm sure you can imagine the length it was. To give you a concept, each mowed strip you make too for runs over it before it was a suitable length. So this year, my Mother's Day was anything but relaxing. In fact it was so much work that by the end of it you could not tell where the grass ended and my feet began. But it was one of the best Mother's Day I have had!!!!
Let me explain. Today was different for me for a number of reasons. First, Ron was here which contributed to a sense of "family" Now, I know that many of you will state or believe or think that a family is what you make it and in this day and age, a family doe not necessarily need two parents together. And for the Christians reading this, who consider that for a broken family with an absent father, the easy answer is that God will show up and be father. Well, I am beginning to understand what that means, and it in no way means the pat answers that we as Christians think it means.. Many time it is told to a single mother that God will be Father to the kids and husband to the mom. I think that that is our nice Christian pat answer for something we don't know how to process. I also think that it is a way out for a lot of Christians who are uncomfortable with the idea of single parenthood. Because I can be the first to attest, God has never showed up to mow my lawn or change my tires. That is a different post though, I admit, I digress.
Back to today. It was a "work day." But it was the best Mother's Day. Why? Because we were all here. Ron, myself and the kids. We were all working to a common goal. Beautifying our home and the yard. Formulating a back yard, a garden together. We were a community, a family, working to something we all want to have, that we will all enjoy. Working together, with games and jokes and breaks and sweat and tears (there were some fights). But we all were together, in our yard, working hard for something that we will all enjoy. It felt like a home. It felt like a family. And for a single Mom, who remains guilt ridden that she destroyed any sense of family for her kids,, it was the best gift I could ever receive, or give.
For today, we were not a single mom with kids ( insert pity, misunderstanding, guilt and zero compassion here).......
Today, on Mother's Day, we were family!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And today arrived. And today started out the same and ended entirely different. Today I got breakfast in bed.
A few things didn't make it into this picture: the heart shaped pancakes and the Reese's Peanut Butter toast (courtesy of Jeffrey). And as you can see I have enough food to feed an army. So we sat on my bed and enjoyed breakfast, I opened my cards and my gift and had a morning with my kids.
And then my Mother's Day became unlike any other I have had. After a leisurely breakfast, Mother's Day ended. And we got ourselves together and took ourselves outside. The rest of my day was spent mowing the lawn (which by now had turned into a forest), finding a garden in and amongst the trees, clipping, trimming and clawing my way to a back yard that can actually suitably be called a backyard.
To give you some perspective. When we moved in here in November, there was no lawn mower. So our grass had not been mowed since last summer. I'm sure you can imagine the length it was. To give you a concept, each mowed strip you make too for runs over it before it was a suitable length. So this year, my Mother's Day was anything but relaxing. In fact it was so much work that by the end of it you could not tell where the grass ended and my feet began. But it was one of the best Mother's Day I have had!!!!
Let me explain. Today was different for me for a number of reasons. First, Ron was here which contributed to a sense of "family" Now, I know that many of you will state or believe or think that a family is what you make it and in this day and age, a family doe not necessarily need two parents together. And for the Christians reading this, who consider that for a broken family with an absent father, the easy answer is that God will show up and be father. Well, I am beginning to understand what that means, and it in no way means the pat answers that we as Christians think it means.. Many time it is told to a single mother that God will be Father to the kids and husband to the mom. I think that that is our nice Christian pat answer for something we don't know how to process. I also think that it is a way out for a lot of Christians who are uncomfortable with the idea of single parenthood. Because I can be the first to attest, God has never showed up to mow my lawn or change my tires. That is a different post though, I admit, I digress.
Back to today. It was a "work day." But it was the best Mother's Day. Why? Because we were all here. Ron, myself and the kids. We were all working to a common goal. Beautifying our home and the yard. Formulating a back yard, a garden together. We were a community, a family, working to something we all want to have, that we will all enjoy. Working together, with games and jokes and breaks and sweat and tears (there were some fights). But we all were together, in our yard, working hard for something that we will all enjoy. It felt like a home. It felt like a family. And for a single Mom, who remains guilt ridden that she destroyed any sense of family for her kids,, it was the best gift I could ever receive, or give.
For today, we were not a single mom with kids ( insert pity, misunderstanding, guilt and zero compassion here).......
Today, on Mother's Day, we were family!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Monday, March 26, 2012
Is there really justice anymore?
I find myself in a very difficult position. In principle, as a therapist, I have been always about rehabilitation. And I have suffered many injustices. Despite that, I have still chosen a place of forgiveness where I really want to see rehabilitation. I want to see people healed and restored. That is my heart's desire. That is one of the premises that I practice my career. And then the unthinkable happened. Despite the fact that I have suffered far too many injustices on a personal level, most of which people would think was unthinkable, it got worse. My son was assaulted. And we reported to the police. And crown pressed charges. And today was the day. Today was our court date. And as I sit and type this, tears constantly stream down my face, and as soon as I wipe those away, more follow.
And the crux of this is my status as a therapist. For as I sat in the courtroom, in a place of high anxiety all day, and the end of the day, "mental illness" was the status quo. And that's how it all came down. And I wonder how I reconcile all this. The very fact, that our justice system chooses to overlook the damages that my son sustained and sides in favor of someone who has potential mental illness. And rules in favor of that. And I might believe it, I just might........
...........until I saw him smirk at me as we walked out. And in that moment, I knew that he knew what he did. And I knew that he knew he got away with it. And I knew he knew the damages he caused. And I knew that he rejoiced in the fact that he got off, with nary a slap on the wrist. And what came down for him will not matter, it will not change him, nor will it change what he does or does not do. And all of this means nothing to him. I saw that in him as we walked out.
The crown tried really hard to convince us of our safety. Convince my son that this isn't just a paper thing. That there really is meat to it. I sat all day during court. I watched him. He sat there, spinning his chair, looking completely dumbfounded. Then he took the stand, and "couldn't remember" what had happened. Although he remembers punching my son in the head. And then his dad spoke, although I never got a chance to. And pleaded bullying and ADHD. But my son's bullying? His suicidality as a result of the assualt? None of that was spoken about. I didn't get to enter that as evidence. I didn't get to speak of the impact that this has had on my family.
And we came home, we cry in shock as we try to assimilate this information. And we google all the martial arts courses in Poco, because my son wants to carry a knife now, to protect himself. He won't but he wishes he could. And I remember his smirk as I walked out. I remember the look he shot me. And in that look, I saw that he knew, ..he knew exactly what he did, and he knew how he played it out. Whether or not he fools his parents, I don't know. What I now know, is that he uses his diagnosis to get away with murder. It wouldn't surprise me if he had his parents fooled. He knew he was guilty and he knew he played the ADHD card and he knew his parents would buy in hook line and sinker. He knew the judge would buy in. And the judge did. What was the recommended sentence was dismissed. Instead, a sentence in favor of his "illness" was decreed. I know the system, I am in it. I work with youth and I know what goes down. And I know that the sentence is and meant nothing with nothing behind it.
And so arises my dilemma..........how do I as a therapist, who believes in rehabilitation and restoration, come to terms with this? How do I reconcile this? It was a good principle in theory, until it hit me right in the gut and wrenched the knife in my heart with a good solid twist or two. When I see my son frustrated, scared, angry and fearing for his safety? When I see him trying to come to terms with what happened and how it affects his self perspective? When I see him doubt his goodness, his validity, his very being? Knowing this assault has impacted things? Knowing this assault has caused further questioning? Knowing his pain? Wrestling with him to ensure his safety? Arguing with him that there is a reason, we need to believe and trust, it will work out for good? Guarding him through the night to ensure he remains alive tomorrow? How do I reconcile this? How do I reconcile that rehabilitation is a good option? That there is something in every person worth my fight? When I lie awake at night, sneaking into my 17 year old's bedroom to make sure he breathes in his sleep before I go to bed? When I stand guard over his life night and day? And I remember the smirk on the face of that child. The child who knew what he did, who knew the damage he caused, who felt no remorse for his actions and in fact gloried in the fact that he got off with less than a slap on the wrist.
That expression is forever burned in my brain.
And the bigger question, how do I forgive? How do I teach my son to forgive? My son has issues. He has been bullied, he has suffered, far more than this child. For he has suffered abuse and he has suffered the loss of a parent. And yet, although, on the surface my child's suffering outweighs that of this child, my son would never hurt someone else. My child would never take his pain out on someone else. So how do I teach him to forgive? How do I teach him to have compassion on his assailant, who has not suffered the depths of pain my son has? Yet my son will not hurt others because of his pain? How do I teach him to forgive this child, who hurt him so desperately? When, my son, who has suffered greater depths of pain, would never take that out on an innocent? How do I teach him to look for, to find the goodness in people? How do I teach him to release and let go of his anger? To forgive, because for him that is the better option? How do I trust, that what goes around comes around and that on some level, justice will be served. How do I teach my son this, when I,. myself barely believe it anymore?
Lord have mercy on us. Because that is all I have left to hold onto............
And the crux of this is my status as a therapist. For as I sat in the courtroom, in a place of high anxiety all day, and the end of the day, "mental illness" was the status quo. And that's how it all came down. And I wonder how I reconcile all this. The very fact, that our justice system chooses to overlook the damages that my son sustained and sides in favor of someone who has potential mental illness. And rules in favor of that. And I might believe it, I just might........
...........until I saw him smirk at me as we walked out. And in that moment, I knew that he knew what he did. And I knew that he knew he got away with it. And I knew he knew the damages he caused. And I knew that he rejoiced in the fact that he got off, with nary a slap on the wrist. And what came down for him will not matter, it will not change him, nor will it change what he does or does not do. And all of this means nothing to him. I saw that in him as we walked out.
The crown tried really hard to convince us of our safety. Convince my son that this isn't just a paper thing. That there really is meat to it. I sat all day during court. I watched him. He sat there, spinning his chair, looking completely dumbfounded. Then he took the stand, and "couldn't remember" what had happened. Although he remembers punching my son in the head. And then his dad spoke, although I never got a chance to. And pleaded bullying and ADHD. But my son's bullying? His suicidality as a result of the assualt? None of that was spoken about. I didn't get to enter that as evidence. I didn't get to speak of the impact that this has had on my family.
And we came home, we cry in shock as we try to assimilate this information. And we google all the martial arts courses in Poco, because my son wants to carry a knife now, to protect himself. He won't but he wishes he could. And I remember his smirk as I walked out. I remember the look he shot me. And in that look, I saw that he knew, ..he knew exactly what he did, and he knew how he played it out. Whether or not he fools his parents, I don't know. What I now know, is that he uses his diagnosis to get away with murder. It wouldn't surprise me if he had his parents fooled. He knew he was guilty and he knew he played the ADHD card and he knew his parents would buy in hook line and sinker. He knew the judge would buy in. And the judge did. What was the recommended sentence was dismissed. Instead, a sentence in favor of his "illness" was decreed. I know the system, I am in it. I work with youth and I know what goes down. And I know that the sentence is and meant nothing with nothing behind it.
And so arises my dilemma..........how do I as a therapist, who believes in rehabilitation and restoration, come to terms with this? How do I reconcile this? It was a good principle in theory, until it hit me right in the gut and wrenched the knife in my heart with a good solid twist or two. When I see my son frustrated, scared, angry and fearing for his safety? When I see him trying to come to terms with what happened and how it affects his self perspective? When I see him doubt his goodness, his validity, his very being? Knowing this assault has impacted things? Knowing this assault has caused further questioning? Knowing his pain? Wrestling with him to ensure his safety? Arguing with him that there is a reason, we need to believe and trust, it will work out for good? Guarding him through the night to ensure he remains alive tomorrow? How do I reconcile this? How do I reconcile that rehabilitation is a good option? That there is something in every person worth my fight? When I lie awake at night, sneaking into my 17 year old's bedroom to make sure he breathes in his sleep before I go to bed? When I stand guard over his life night and day? And I remember the smirk on the face of that child. The child who knew what he did, who knew the damage he caused, who felt no remorse for his actions and in fact gloried in the fact that he got off with less than a slap on the wrist.
That expression is forever burned in my brain.
And the bigger question, how do I forgive? How do I teach my son to forgive? My son has issues. He has been bullied, he has suffered, far more than this child. For he has suffered abuse and he has suffered the loss of a parent. And yet, although, on the surface my child's suffering outweighs that of this child, my son would never hurt someone else. My child would never take his pain out on someone else. So how do I teach him to forgive? How do I teach him to have compassion on his assailant, who has not suffered the depths of pain my son has? Yet my son will not hurt others because of his pain? How do I teach him to forgive this child, who hurt him so desperately? When, my son, who has suffered greater depths of pain, would never take that out on an innocent? How do I teach him to look for, to find the goodness in people? How do I teach him to release and let go of his anger? To forgive, because for him that is the better option? How do I trust, that what goes around comes around and that on some level, justice will be served. How do I teach my son this, when I,. myself barely believe it anymore?
Lord have mercy on us. Because that is all I have left to hold onto............
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Court and Police and too much of both
So the end of this week turned out to be rather difficult. For you see, based on the events of last year, me and the kids have two outsatnding court dates. For both of those we were hoping that there would be plea bargaining and early settlements in play. But as it turns out, not so much. And I wondered why. In both instances, it would be far less anxiety provoking if things were just settled out of court. But it looks like that is not to be the case. And in fact, in some instances, I know that that is not to be the case.
The first one happened on Thursday morning. I had a conference call scheduled with the BC Human Rights Tribunal and with a representative from Kenson Realty. The purpose of the call was to set trial dates, as the respondant had submitted a form 3 wanting the case to be dismissed, As he (we) learned on Thursday, he will have to submit his application for dismissal by April 6. I am hoping he does not manage to get it done in time. And to date, they have not managed to submit anything on time. Additionally. the letter that I received as a response is packed with lies, from one end to the other. So as the call progressed, it appeared that we were headed toward trial and should that be the case, we will have a 5 day trial in December. That said, we may have an early settlement mediation meeting. That has yet to be determined. If so there is a chance that this could be settled outside of court. If that proves not successful, then we go to a lengthy trial. I am not sure which I prefer.
The second meeting on Thursday involved the Crown Counsel. And likewise we were hoping for a plea bargain. Alas, that is not to be the case. This one involves Jeffrey and the other child who assaulted him last April. We (including the Crown) were hoping that they would settle outside of court but that child has chosen to maintain that he is not guilty. The crown however, has looked at the evidence and has assured us that as far as he is concerned this kid is guilty. So Thursday afternoon, we went to a mock trial. The Crown sat with Jeffrey and ran him through all the questions that Jeffrey will have to face on the stand. It was nerve wracking to say the least. And that was just in the office. The trial is set for this Monday and it is going to be a very trying day. We are scheduled for 9:30 but the Crown has asked us to be there 9:00 am. The Crown has a total of 4 witnesses to call. This could be a long day. So prayers would be much appreciated. For the outcome to be in Jeff's favour and for justice to be served.
Last year was a year of one injustice after another against my family. And in fact, my own life has been that of one injustice after another. And now here we sit, with two court cases, neither of which appear to be able to be settled outside of the courtroom. And yet, I feel there is a purpose to it. As I was requesting prayer from my church, the thought popped into my head that there was a reason that these weren't settling out of court. That reason being that God is going to use them to turn the tide for my family and use these to usher in justice when to date justice has been scarce. I just have this feeling that this is the beginning of redemption for me and mine and justice will be our legacy. I ask that you would join me in praying this through.
As for Monday? Well, that will be one more "trial" both literally and figuratively. I am preparing for a mentally and emotionally exhausting day. Please cover us and most especially Jeffrey. This is quite a anxiety provoking ordeal for a 17 year old to have to walk through. Please pray favor and God's peace that passes all understanding to encompass us.
Thank you
The first one happened on Thursday morning. I had a conference call scheduled with the BC Human Rights Tribunal and with a representative from Kenson Realty. The purpose of the call was to set trial dates, as the respondant had submitted a form 3 wanting the case to be dismissed, As he (we) learned on Thursday, he will have to submit his application for dismissal by April 6. I am hoping he does not manage to get it done in time. And to date, they have not managed to submit anything on time. Additionally. the letter that I received as a response is packed with lies, from one end to the other. So as the call progressed, it appeared that we were headed toward trial and should that be the case, we will have a 5 day trial in December. That said, we may have an early settlement mediation meeting. That has yet to be determined. If so there is a chance that this could be settled outside of court. If that proves not successful, then we go to a lengthy trial. I am not sure which I prefer.
The second meeting on Thursday involved the Crown Counsel. And likewise we were hoping for a plea bargain. Alas, that is not to be the case. This one involves Jeffrey and the other child who assaulted him last April. We (including the Crown) were hoping that they would settle outside of court but that child has chosen to maintain that he is not guilty. The crown however, has looked at the evidence and has assured us that as far as he is concerned this kid is guilty. So Thursday afternoon, we went to a mock trial. The Crown sat with Jeffrey and ran him through all the questions that Jeffrey will have to face on the stand. It was nerve wracking to say the least. And that was just in the office. The trial is set for this Monday and it is going to be a very trying day. We are scheduled for 9:30 but the Crown has asked us to be there 9:00 am. The Crown has a total of 4 witnesses to call. This could be a long day. So prayers would be much appreciated. For the outcome to be in Jeff's favour and for justice to be served.
Last year was a year of one injustice after another against my family. And in fact, my own life has been that of one injustice after another. And now here we sit, with two court cases, neither of which appear to be able to be settled outside of the courtroom. And yet, I feel there is a purpose to it. As I was requesting prayer from my church, the thought popped into my head that there was a reason that these weren't settling out of court. That reason being that God is going to use them to turn the tide for my family and use these to usher in justice when to date justice has been scarce. I just have this feeling that this is the beginning of redemption for me and mine and justice will be our legacy. I ask that you would join me in praying this through.
As for Monday? Well, that will be one more "trial" both literally and figuratively. I am preparing for a mentally and emotionally exhausting day. Please cover us and most especially Jeffrey. This is quite a anxiety provoking ordeal for a 17 year old to have to walk through. Please pray favor and God's peace that passes all understanding to encompass us.
Thank you
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
We wear pink
Today, we wore pink. My kids and I. We all wore pink. Today is an especially meaningful day for my family. For you see, my son, was the target of harsh bullying. He suffered everything from text messages indicating he was going to be hunted down and killed, to name calling, to erasers pegged at his head, to his clothes thrown in the toilet, glasses stolen and the worst of it all: caught in the circle. What's the circle? Well it is when the victim is put in the middle of a circle while the kids stand shoulder to shoulder, encircling him and taking turns to beat on him.
That was my son's experience. It was done repeatedly before it was seen. Why didn't he speak up you ask? Because when you are a victim of bullying you are continually haunted but the silent threatener. You know the one of whom I speak. That threat that looms over head, dodges your every step, haunts your back and filters every word form your mouth. The threat of "if you say a word, what you will then experience is ten times what you have already experienced."
It was finally seen and a stop put to it. During the bullying and during the aftermath, my son seriously began contemplating suicide. For his take home message was: "I am worth shit" so in his mind that led to "why live?" We have worked very hard on stabilization for him and have come huge leaps and bounds ahead. The bullying has stopped. In fact, it stopped 3 years ago. But the aftermath still lives on. I didn't lose my son to suicide as a result of being bullied. Other parents have not been so fortunate. But that experience still haunts us?
How, how can it still haunt us? It was three years ago. My son should just move on, right? Unfortunately it is not that easy. For you see, he still, three years later, daily struggles with his worth. His bullying experience left such a huge imprint on him, that he still wonders as to what his value is.
I saw this flash mob. It has been going around the internet. Perhaps you have seen it. If you have, please watch again. If you haven't, please watch. As you watch, please listen to the lyrics. Everytime I hear this song, I cry. I cry for how it effectively communicates why bullying must stop. I hope and pray that after you read this: you will stop, watch and listen. To what is going on around you in your world. Is there a parent, telling their child that they are an idiot, stupid, lazy or fat? Are you witness to schoolyard teasing? If so, I beg of you to stop and intervene. So that one parent, may not have to lose one more child.
Be Blessed.
K
My Beloved Son
That was my son's experience. It was done repeatedly before it was seen. Why didn't he speak up you ask? Because when you are a victim of bullying you are continually haunted but the silent threatener. You know the one of whom I speak. That threat that looms over head, dodges your every step, haunts your back and filters every word form your mouth. The threat of "if you say a word, what you will then experience is ten times what you have already experienced."
It was finally seen and a stop put to it. During the bullying and during the aftermath, my son seriously began contemplating suicide. For his take home message was: "I am worth shit" so in his mind that led to "why live?" We have worked very hard on stabilization for him and have come huge leaps and bounds ahead. The bullying has stopped. In fact, it stopped 3 years ago. But the aftermath still lives on. I didn't lose my son to suicide as a result of being bullied. Other parents have not been so fortunate. But that experience still haunts us?
How, how can it still haunt us? It was three years ago. My son should just move on, right? Unfortunately it is not that easy. For you see, he still, three years later, daily struggles with his worth. His bullying experience left such a huge imprint on him, that he still wonders as to what his value is.
I saw this flash mob. It has been going around the internet. Perhaps you have seen it. If you have, please watch again. If you haven't, please watch. As you watch, please listen to the lyrics. Everytime I hear this song, I cry. I cry for how it effectively communicates why bullying must stop. I hope and pray that after you read this: you will stop, watch and listen. To what is going on around you in your world. Is there a parent, telling their child that they are an idiot, stupid, lazy or fat? Are you witness to schoolyard teasing? If so, I beg of you to stop and intervene. So that one parent, may not have to lose one more child.
Be Blessed.
K
My Beloved Son
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Moon over Manhattan
ok.......maybe not Manhattan............maybe Vancouver......
I was driving home today from a long day at two jobs. As I was doing so, the moon was breaking over the horizon. It was beautiful! It was low to the horizon, and as such it carried a yellow tinge. Not the harvest moon orange, but a definitive yellow. And it reminded me of a light bulb. Not the new style of energy saving florescent bulb, but the old yellowish bulb. As I drove and stared at the beauty, it occurred to me, with all man's capability, we cannot begin to create something as glorious as God has. Yes we have light, but our meagre comparisons cannot begin to touch the glory that is God's created light. The moon carried a glory to it tonight, I was not the only one who saw that. And even though we can create a source of light, it lacks that quintessential glory. There is an intangible quality to it.
These thoughts drew me back to my sessions today and how there is that same intangible quality to each and everyone of us. It is very easy to think we are all the same, we are all people after all. We all cry wet tears, we all bleed red blood. We are, after all, all human. And so begins the comparison game. We are all human but he has this quality and she has that one. What sets me apart? What makes me different. After all, she can do this better and he can do that.
Trust me, I have been there and often visit that miry swamp. And it shakes me to the core because the things that I have dreamed of being or becoming simply have not happened.
The topic of nurturance came up for me recently. I was asked the question, how do you like to be nurtured. I could not answer that. Why? Because, as a child, I was not nurtured. I was a) left to nurture myself, and b) obligated to nurture those around me, including my parents. I have been doing that for as long as I can remember. And in doing so, I lost me. Somewhere along the line, I lost, maybe never knew or found me. I had to get external sources to tell me who I am. Take off my various hats, and I am identity less. I do not know.
And tonight I saw the moon, and I saw the glory that exists in the moon. The same glory that exists in the moon, that man cannot replicate, exists in each of us, God's creation. Just as He infused glory into the sun, stars and moon that makes each of us look on with a sense of awe, exists in each of us.
He placed the same glory in each of us, that same unreplicable glory. When was the last time that you looked at the person next to you, with a sense of awe as to who they are? I know for me, there are a number of people that for various reasons make me stop short. Some are my clients who despite having every reason to hate the world and everyone in it, choose to live their lives out of a place of empathy and compassion,
........And some I am fortunate enough to call my friends.
I was driving home today from a long day at two jobs. As I was doing so, the moon was breaking over the horizon. It was beautiful! It was low to the horizon, and as such it carried a yellow tinge. Not the harvest moon orange, but a definitive yellow. And it reminded me of a light bulb. Not the new style of energy saving florescent bulb, but the old yellowish bulb. As I drove and stared at the beauty, it occurred to me, with all man's capability, we cannot begin to create something as glorious as God has. Yes we have light, but our meagre comparisons cannot begin to touch the glory that is God's created light. The moon carried a glory to it tonight, I was not the only one who saw that. And even though we can create a source of light, it lacks that quintessential glory. There is an intangible quality to it.
These thoughts drew me back to my sessions today and how there is that same intangible quality to each and everyone of us. It is very easy to think we are all the same, we are all people after all. We all cry wet tears, we all bleed red blood. We are, after all, all human. And so begins the comparison game. We are all human but he has this quality and she has that one. What sets me apart? What makes me different. After all, she can do this better and he can do that.
Trust me, I have been there and often visit that miry swamp. And it shakes me to the core because the things that I have dreamed of being or becoming simply have not happened.
The topic of nurturance came up for me recently. I was asked the question, how do you like to be nurtured. I could not answer that. Why? Because, as a child, I was not nurtured. I was a) left to nurture myself, and b) obligated to nurture those around me, including my parents. I have been doing that for as long as I can remember. And in doing so, I lost me. Somewhere along the line, I lost, maybe never knew or found me. I had to get external sources to tell me who I am. Take off my various hats, and I am identity less. I do not know.
And tonight I saw the moon, and I saw the glory that exists in the moon. The same glory that exists in the moon, that man cannot replicate, exists in each of us, God's creation. Just as He infused glory into the sun, stars and moon that makes each of us look on with a sense of awe, exists in each of us.
He placed the same glory in each of us, that same unreplicable glory. When was the last time that you looked at the person next to you, with a sense of awe as to who they are? I know for me, there are a number of people that for various reasons make me stop short. Some are my clients who despite having every reason to hate the world and everyone in it, choose to live their lives out of a place of empathy and compassion,
........And some I am fortunate enough to call my friends.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Descriptive paragraph-an exercise in writing
The room sat at a comfortable temperature, yet an eerie
chill hung in the air. It was the type of chill that gripped at the deepest,
marrow of your bones, one you could not escape or recover from. Although a
mundane situation, it was a grisly scene that viscerally attacked one’s core. A
quick scan revealed nothing abnormal; simply an operating room filled with
standard medical equipment. A steel gurney stood in the center of the room,
draped by a crisp cotton sheet. To the left sat a silver cart with each medical
instrument carefully placed on top. A bowl filled with water sat beside the
instruments. Despite the room temperature sitting at a comfortable 18 degrees, a
thin sheet of ice began to creep over the water’s surface. At the head of the
gurney he stood, simply preparing for his nightly routine. He snapped on his
gloves, adjusted his goggles and set to work. Standard fluorescent lights lit
the room, but the overwhelming intensity was so powerful it seared the images
onto the retinas. Sheer blinking could not dislodge these permanent etchings.
The surgical room was encased by stark medically white walls. The pairing of
the white lights and white walls highlighted the ghoulish glint of the surgical
steel instruments, invoking a gruesome beauty into the room.
Ignoring the deafening buzz of the fluorescent
lights, he worked on in silent solitude. He picked up a scalpel and as the
stinging point kissed the thin veneer of sunken flesh the caustic ripping of
sinews exploded throughout the room. The shrill screech of metal on metal as he
put his instruments down molested the eardrums. Reaching into the corpse for
the organs of the deceased, a nauseating slurping tickled one’s eardrums.
As if
to mock of the morbidity of the scene, the sterile scent of antiseptic echoed
the white desolate walls. The powdery stale odour of rubber hung at the edges.
Shadowing the cutting of flesh, the putrid stench of rancid carcass permeated
the rectangular confines of the room and assaulted the very crux of one’s
being.
In this ghastly death scene the
presence of a lone shadowy apparition hovered over the soulless corpse. Not
seen, felt, nor heard, his demanding presence was simply known as he sought for
his final legacy.
With one final breath, the
surgeon respectfully stitched together the cadaver. Positioning the body for the
last dressing, he stepped toward the door. He quickly flicked off the lights,
and opened the door to leave. Halting mid-step, he turned, as if beckoned by
some invisible presence desiring his last farewell.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Justice and my fight for it!
So, if you know me, I have this thing for justice and ensuring it occurs. I believe this is largely due to the fact that my own life carried so little of it and I often fell prey to the hands of injustice. And as such it annoys me, irritates me and infuriates me. And it isn't simply my own injustices, it is many that I hear about. I think of one dear friend whose entire family is struggling to cope with injustice at the hands of our medical system. However, due to their confidentiality, I will not disclose who they are.
Rather, I speak of my own injustice. I guess this came to a forefront, back in August of 2011 when I was refused a rental house due to family status. Essentially what that means, is that they told me, after they had assured me that I was first in line and likely to get the house, that they rented the house to someone that DID NOT have children. Yes, you read that right. DID NOT have children.
So at that point, I acted. I was granted both a radio interview and a television interview. While on the radio, I met an individual from the Human Rights Clinic who encouraged me to file a complaint with the Human Rights Tribunal. This is essentially the same as a court proceeding.
The second injustice I encountered was with my current rental and their refusal to bring the rental up to liveable standards, of which I have since done myself, hoping to recoup the cost.
The third injustice was during the end of last year when a miscommunication happened between student loans and myself. Despite many phone communications, student loans chose to start debiting my account collecting money and then pinning me for interest after I stopped payment. Well, being a single mom, barely enough to pay bills, feed and clothe my children 650.00 coming out of my account certainly was not what I needed. And in fact, that was money I had set aside for Christmas. As you can well imagine, Christmas proved to be very difficult.
Well I don't tend to take things sitting down. I filed the Human Rights Tribunal case. Today I found out that my complaint has been screened and accepted. GOOD NEWS!!!! What does this mean? Well, potentially I get an advocate (I am applying for one as we speak) who will represent me and fight for my case. The nuts and bolts of what that means is, I can be awarded monetary recompense for damages, as well as the difference in current rent and what would have been my rent for the period of the lease which in this case was a year.
Current rent, well that didn't amount to much except a token amount for the cost of paint.
Student loans: Well after numerous phone calls and speaking to managers and supervisors who would not listen to me, I phoned my MP's office. Today, they got back to me. My MP has called NSLC and they have returned the debited amount to my account as well as waived the accumulated interest.
I am also in contact with my MLA who will be ensuring that the same occurs with my BC student loans.
Why do I write all this? Well, I have been intensely criticized for my desire to see justice done. I have been lectured, I have had support withdrawn and I have been told that I need to smarten up and grow up and swallow the injustices. I sought a new place to rent, in order to provide a safer living environment for my children. I was told at that point to suck it up and swallow it and live in a shithole because by becoming a single mom, this is what I brought to my children. And this from family.
So I guess I write this to say/show that despite all that, justice can prevail. If done with a right heart, God will honor that and bring justice. It wasn't easy by no means an easy road, especially then to be lectured (when my family lectures that really means a derogatory yell fest). But I stayed true to what I thought was right and so far, justice appears to being served.
Rather, I speak of my own injustice. I guess this came to a forefront, back in August of 2011 when I was refused a rental house due to family status. Essentially what that means, is that they told me, after they had assured me that I was first in line and likely to get the house, that they rented the house to someone that DID NOT have children. Yes, you read that right. DID NOT have children.
So at that point, I acted. I was granted both a radio interview and a television interview. While on the radio, I met an individual from the Human Rights Clinic who encouraged me to file a complaint with the Human Rights Tribunal. This is essentially the same as a court proceeding.
The second injustice I encountered was with my current rental and their refusal to bring the rental up to liveable standards, of which I have since done myself, hoping to recoup the cost.
The third injustice was during the end of last year when a miscommunication happened between student loans and myself. Despite many phone communications, student loans chose to start debiting my account collecting money and then pinning me for interest after I stopped payment. Well, being a single mom, barely enough to pay bills, feed and clothe my children 650.00 coming out of my account certainly was not what I needed. And in fact, that was money I had set aside for Christmas. As you can well imagine, Christmas proved to be very difficult.
Well I don't tend to take things sitting down. I filed the Human Rights Tribunal case. Today I found out that my complaint has been screened and accepted. GOOD NEWS!!!! What does this mean? Well, potentially I get an advocate (I am applying for one as we speak) who will represent me and fight for my case. The nuts and bolts of what that means is, I can be awarded monetary recompense for damages, as well as the difference in current rent and what would have been my rent for the period of the lease which in this case was a year.
Current rent, well that didn't amount to much except a token amount for the cost of paint.
Student loans: Well after numerous phone calls and speaking to managers and supervisors who would not listen to me, I phoned my MP's office. Today, they got back to me. My MP has called NSLC and they have returned the debited amount to my account as well as waived the accumulated interest.
I am also in contact with my MLA who will be ensuring that the same occurs with my BC student loans.
Why do I write all this? Well, I have been intensely criticized for my desire to see justice done. I have been lectured, I have had support withdrawn and I have been told that I need to smarten up and grow up and swallow the injustices. I sought a new place to rent, in order to provide a safer living environment for my children. I was told at that point to suck it up and swallow it and live in a shithole because by becoming a single mom, this is what I brought to my children. And this from family.
So I guess I write this to say/show that despite all that, justice can prevail. If done with a right heart, God will honor that and bring justice. It wasn't easy by no means an easy road, especially then to be lectured (when my family lectures that really means a derogatory yell fest). But I stayed true to what I thought was right and so far, justice appears to being served.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Entering 2012
We had a very weird entry to 2012 on a number of levels. Shortly after midnight in the first few minutes of 2012, my children ran out into the street to yell Happy New Years! etc... Now this year, we stayed home. Jeff had his first shindig which included three of his friends. At midnight they and my other 2 were outside. Within minutes, they were back home plus one. While they were outside celebrating, they found a dog that was spooked by the fireworks, running loose, he ran into a fence and fell over. Well with my bleeding hearts crew, that was not going to stand. We HAD to rescue this poor pup. He was going to starve or freeze, don't you know. And he had to be on the deck else he may run away. And he had to be in the doghouse else he'd freeze. So I told the boys to bring the doghouse up to the deck but it was too heavy. So MOM he HAS to be in the house or he'll freeze. So in he came and when I saw that Honey and Kesler would going crazy with playing, down to the no longer needed puppy room he went. So he stayed there all night and morning came. And now we have to feed him, and walk him and etc etc. So we did, he refused food, and I proceeded to try and figure out what I was going to do with him. He had a license tag (thank goodness) but the phone number took us to the tax office. Plum out of luck and what was I going to do?
I tried the SPCA no answer. Then I remembered. Down on Prairie Ave. by the dyke, is an animal rescue operation. Out of nowhere else to go, I phoned them. They were open!!!! I was calling to see if they could take him, but they fortunately had his license on file and could phone the owner. So they did and I received a phone call. Not long after, Magnum's owner came to pick him up and gave me quiet a handsome reward.
If this were a dream............
In other news, right after the New Year I had to visit my bank. While I was at the teller, I asked a casual question. The next thing I know I am being ushered into the office of the small business manager. We sit and chat, she hears my story and decides that I am her girl. She quickly gets my business name through the search and registration, and tells me to come back when I get the confirmation approval. So I wait and with two days, the confirmation email came in. They have approved my first choice of business name. In I go and the next thing I know she is registering my business. Now my minimal funds were inaccessible and my visa was maxed. So my banker says: how about I put it on my Visa, you go withdraw the money and give it to me. WOW, I though and off we go. As I sit here, I am currently waiting for the small business to be registered and I will be a small business owner. Many long awaited dreams are coming to pass.
If this were a dream..............
The last thing that has kicked started my new year. This year has already been a year full of creative favor. In one day, two sets of lyrics were written, I have a meeting to co write a screen play, a third set of lyrics is brewing and opportunity seems to be presenting itself. Creativity is something that I have delved in for all of my life. And since my camera was stolen, it has been very heavy on my heart. I have had some prophecy around writing but my creative bent seems to encompass more than that.
If this were a dream..........
And lastly, I am sitting here listening to a Bethel sermon, which is full of prophecy for the new year. The prophecy spoken was this: "This is a year of breakthrough and favor. It is a year for the Body." If you know of the horror of my last year, then you know that this is a year when I need breakthrough and favor. So Lord, as I begin this year, I receive Your word that this year will be one of breakthrough for me in all areas; finances, relationships, family. And that I stand in your favor. Thank you for all you have done and all you are doing.
I tried the SPCA no answer. Then I remembered. Down on Prairie Ave. by the dyke, is an animal rescue operation. Out of nowhere else to go, I phoned them. They were open!!!! I was calling to see if they could take him, but they fortunately had his license on file and could phone the owner. So they did and I received a phone call. Not long after, Magnum's owner came to pick him up and gave me quiet a handsome reward.
If this were a dream............
In other news, right after the New Year I had to visit my bank. While I was at the teller, I asked a casual question. The next thing I know I am being ushered into the office of the small business manager. We sit and chat, she hears my story and decides that I am her girl. She quickly gets my business name through the search and registration, and tells me to come back when I get the confirmation approval. So I wait and with two days, the confirmation email came in. They have approved my first choice of business name. In I go and the next thing I know she is registering my business. Now my minimal funds were inaccessible and my visa was maxed. So my banker says: how about I put it on my Visa, you go withdraw the money and give it to me. WOW, I though and off we go. As I sit here, I am currently waiting for the small business to be registered and I will be a small business owner. Many long awaited dreams are coming to pass.
If this were a dream..............
The last thing that has kicked started my new year. This year has already been a year full of creative favor. In one day, two sets of lyrics were written, I have a meeting to co write a screen play, a third set of lyrics is brewing and opportunity seems to be presenting itself. Creativity is something that I have delved in for all of my life. And since my camera was stolen, it has been very heavy on my heart. I have had some prophecy around writing but my creative bent seems to encompass more than that.
If this were a dream..........
And lastly, I am sitting here listening to a Bethel sermon, which is full of prophecy for the new year. The prophecy spoken was this: "This is a year of breakthrough and favor. It is a year for the Body." If you know of the horror of my last year, then you know that this is a year when I need breakthrough and favor. So Lord, as I begin this year, I receive Your word that this year will be one of breakthrough for me in all areas; finances, relationships, family. And that I stand in your favor. Thank you for all you have done and all you are doing.
Leaving 2011
So 2011 is over and I must say I am more than pleased. Let's be real, it was a crazy tough year for me and my little crew. I have been doing a lot of pondering as this new year has dawned, about life and our lives and where it is headed and what is left behind. I knew I had to write something and yet I didn't know exactly how to start. So I think what I am going to do in this post is a thankful list, instead of a rehashing of the horror we lived. Throw in some what 2011 gave us and showed us.
1) The first very obvious: a new house, under horrific circumstances but 2011 gave us a new house.
2) The ability for Missy to enter a girls empowerment course, which brought new friends.
3) Jeff turning 16, which brought new maturity levels and responsibility
4) A deepening and vitally important relationship with my love
5) A sense of family for my children over Christmas
6) A sense of family for my children day to day
7) A male role model that my children can be mentored by
8) A lack of creativity causing a burst in the New Year
9) Missy turning 13, and my ability to give her a party of her dreams
10) Jamie re-entering acting
11) The kids being able to have puppies and an adorable new furfriend in our family
12) The reawakening of old friendships
13) Testing of my moral integrity with victory over some critical battles.
I am sure there are/were more when I originally thought of this post, but at this point this is all I can think of as there have been many things happening in 2012 already which will be my next blog.
1) The first very obvious: a new house, under horrific circumstances but 2011 gave us a new house.
2) The ability for Missy to enter a girls empowerment course, which brought new friends.
3) Jeff turning 16, which brought new maturity levels and responsibility
4) A deepening and vitally important relationship with my love
5) A sense of family for my children over Christmas
6) A sense of family for my children day to day
7) A male role model that my children can be mentored by
8) A lack of creativity causing a burst in the New Year
9) Missy turning 13, and my ability to give her a party of her dreams
10) Jamie re-entering acting
11) The kids being able to have puppies and an adorable new furfriend in our family
12) The reawakening of old friendships
13) Testing of my moral integrity with victory over some critical battles.
I am sure there are/were more when I originally thought of this post, but at this point this is all I can think of as there have been many things happening in 2012 already which will be my next blog.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Dear Jesus,
So I don't even know how to start this. I know that some people reading this will assume that I have been negligent or irresponsible with what you have given me, and maybe that's true. But right now? Right now, I am asking that you look past the sins of the forefathers and look to the wishes and desires of my children's heart. And maybe some Christians will condemn me and say this is simply what I rightly deserve having left their dad, and yet, both you and I know that if I stayed there I'd be dead right now.
But here's the thing. It's Christmas. And due to circumstances beyond my control and despite me having done the just thing, I am without family to celebrate Christmas with. Despite my carefully laid plans of ways to gain some extra cash to help make ends meet, I am still left without the ability to pay off bills, buy food, finish buying presents and no family to celebrate Christmas with.
I was invited to spend Christmas with a family in AB. It would have been a wonderful Christmas. We would have had snow on Christmas morning, and people to celebrate Christmas with, people that cared and celebrated who my children are. People that would have showered my children in the love and affection that they don't rightly get from their own blood.
But I cannot give them that. I can barely give them food for the table and a roof over their head. I can barely meet their day to day needs, let alone give them a dream.
And so Lord, I ask that as you look down on us this Christmas, can you see a way to make a Christmas dream come true for my kids? I promise in the New Year, I will put my shoulder back to the grindstone. I will sacrifice myself in order to make up for this.
I guess, Lord, what I am asking is for some grace and mercy here. And a Christmas miracle.
Thanks,
just me the single mom
But here's the thing. It's Christmas. And due to circumstances beyond my control and despite me having done the just thing, I am without family to celebrate Christmas with. Despite my carefully laid plans of ways to gain some extra cash to help make ends meet, I am still left without the ability to pay off bills, buy food, finish buying presents and no family to celebrate Christmas with.
I was invited to spend Christmas with a family in AB. It would have been a wonderful Christmas. We would have had snow on Christmas morning, and people to celebrate Christmas with, people that cared and celebrated who my children are. People that would have showered my children in the love and affection that they don't rightly get from their own blood.
But I cannot give them that. I can barely give them food for the table and a roof over their head. I can barely meet their day to day needs, let alone give them a dream.
And so Lord, I ask that as you look down on us this Christmas, can you see a way to make a Christmas dream come true for my kids? I promise in the New Year, I will put my shoulder back to the grindstone. I will sacrifice myself in order to make up for this.
I guess, Lord, what I am asking is for some grace and mercy here. And a Christmas miracle.
Thanks,
just me the single mom
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Christmas and Birthdays
For those of you watching my fb account, you will see a number of pictures of Christmas in my new house. All of them include stockings hung by the chimney with care. There is a reason for my insanity. You see, when I was little, we read and were read "The Night Before Christmas." Our book had beautiful pictures of tow headed children in onesie pajamas with the button flap at the bum reaching on tip toe to hang their stocking on a fireplace that housed a roaring, snappping, crackling fire. This was my version of Norman Rockwell. And so it was birthed in me. My dream to have that picture, for me and as I got older for my children.
Christmas was always a magical time for me. Yet don't think, that it was without trauma. One Christmas we woke to news of a beloved friend's passing, unjustly I might add. One Christmas, saw a major war between my parents that resulted in anger and yelling and screaming and tears and the inevitable silent treatment and tension thick enough to slice with a knife. And yet, Christmas remained magical.
And now as an adult, come Nov 1, Christmas music plays at my house. Come the first Sat in Dec, we have a tree decorating day and night with movies, music and treats. My children are somewhat sick of it all, at least some of them are, but I make them participate? Why? Because Christmas is magical for me.
And now I digress for a bit. The magicalness of Christmas is mirrored in birthdays for me. Many of you have seen pictures on my fb of the somewhat insane birthday parties I throw for my kids. And yet again, there is a method to my insanity. I have hosted such birthday parties as: Jedi knight training party, sword and the stone party, a live version of Clue, a Mani Pedi party, a wine and cheese party, a backwards party, a princess party, a limo driven night on the town party a survivor party. Many times people look at me and shake their heads at me, thinking I am simply crazy without a cure. Again, all done intentionally with purpose.
For you see, when I was but a wee one, birthdays and Christmas were my days. And by that I mean that they were the only days I got to be somebody. For 2 days, out of 365, I was celebrated, I was rejoiced in, I was honoured, I was loved. The other 363 days I was hurt, abused, emotionally beat on, used for whatever purpose saw fit at the time, downtrodden, ignored, devalued, terrorized, bullied, forgotten and un-noticed. I was a nothing. Except for two days. For two days I was a something.
And so my insanity is two fold. From a wee one, I learned to live in the quiet celebration of those two days. I say quiet because the days leading up met with the descriptives above. But internally, I was anticipating, dreaming, fantasizing, and celebrating. I created my own internal anticipatory celebration of the two days I got to be a SOMETHING. And then the day, the magical, wondrous, dreamlike day arrived for me!!! I got to BE!!!!!
And I carried this with me. Yet now, as an adult, my celebration does not have to remain hidden and internal. I run my house and so, I can celebrate externally, I get to hold onto the fact that I get to BE!!!! Until normalcy sets in and I go back to being a nothing.
And I do it for my kids. I want them to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they ARE! And who they ARE is beyond descriptive words. And so I plan their parties with them and the anticipation grows and they see the effort I put in and they KNOW. They are SOMETHING!!!!! They are VALUABLE and WORTHY and LOVED BEYOND MEASURE!!!!!!!!!! They see me plan Christmas, with anticipation of their joy. And they KNOW. THEY ARE SOMETHING!!!! Part of this comes from my stuff. I know that. Part of it does come from what I never got to experience and yet, part of this comes from me trying to ensure that the good in their lives stays and the bad falls away. I know we are not supposed to, as parents, live vicariously through our children. But I can't help but wonder, if in this case, is it such a bad thing?
Christmas was always a magical time for me. Yet don't think, that it was without trauma. One Christmas we woke to news of a beloved friend's passing, unjustly I might add. One Christmas, saw a major war between my parents that resulted in anger and yelling and screaming and tears and the inevitable silent treatment and tension thick enough to slice with a knife. And yet, Christmas remained magical.
And now as an adult, come Nov 1, Christmas music plays at my house. Come the first Sat in Dec, we have a tree decorating day and night with movies, music and treats. My children are somewhat sick of it all, at least some of them are, but I make them participate? Why? Because Christmas is magical for me.
And now I digress for a bit. The magicalness of Christmas is mirrored in birthdays for me. Many of you have seen pictures on my fb of the somewhat insane birthday parties I throw for my kids. And yet again, there is a method to my insanity. I have hosted such birthday parties as: Jedi knight training party, sword and the stone party, a live version of Clue, a Mani Pedi party, a wine and cheese party, a backwards party, a princess party, a limo driven night on the town party a survivor party. Many times people look at me and shake their heads at me, thinking I am simply crazy without a cure. Again, all done intentionally with purpose.
For you see, when I was but a wee one, birthdays and Christmas were my days. And by that I mean that they were the only days I got to be somebody. For 2 days, out of 365, I was celebrated, I was rejoiced in, I was honoured, I was loved. The other 363 days I was hurt, abused, emotionally beat on, used for whatever purpose saw fit at the time, downtrodden, ignored, devalued, terrorized, bullied, forgotten and un-noticed. I was a nothing. Except for two days. For two days I was a something.
And so my insanity is two fold. From a wee one, I learned to live in the quiet celebration of those two days. I say quiet because the days leading up met with the descriptives above. But internally, I was anticipating, dreaming, fantasizing, and celebrating. I created my own internal anticipatory celebration of the two days I got to be a SOMETHING. And then the day, the magical, wondrous, dreamlike day arrived for me!!! I got to BE!!!!!
And I carried this with me. Yet now, as an adult, my celebration does not have to remain hidden and internal. I run my house and so, I can celebrate externally, I get to hold onto the fact that I get to BE!!!! Until normalcy sets in and I go back to being a nothing.
And I do it for my kids. I want them to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they ARE! And who they ARE is beyond descriptive words. And so I plan their parties with them and the anticipation grows and they see the effort I put in and they KNOW. They are SOMETHING!!!!! They are VALUABLE and WORTHY and LOVED BEYOND MEASURE!!!!!!!!!! They see me plan Christmas, with anticipation of their joy. And they KNOW. THEY ARE SOMETHING!!!! Part of this comes from my stuff. I know that. Part of it does come from what I never got to experience and yet, part of this comes from me trying to ensure that the good in their lives stays and the bad falls away. I know we are not supposed to, as parents, live vicariously through our children. But I can't help but wonder, if in this case, is it such a bad thing?
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Walking Dead
Before I post this, I need to post a preface. There are a few of you that will understand on a very integral level what exactly this means. To the rest, I hope that these words strike a chord and give you hope!
Walking Dead
We walk amongst the living
Flesh wrappings are our dress
We look and speak and sound the same
Our hearts no longer in our chest
We are the walking dead
Living, breathing lies,
Fleshly robes around us,
Emptiness in our eyes
Should you listen carefully,
Take notice of our words
You'll find although we speak the same,
Our meanings are not heard
Should you stop and look
You'll see we look like you
But if you dig down deep enough
There's nothing further from the truth
For you see our chests beat empty
Bloodied tears fall from our eyes
If you listen carefully
We're walking, breathing lies.
Walking dead
Walking Dead
We walk amongst the living
Flesh wrappings are our dress
We look and speak and sound the same
Our hearts no longer in our chest
We are the walking dead
Living, breathing lies,
Fleshly robes around us,
Emptiness in our eyes
Should you listen carefully,
Take notice of our words
You'll find although we speak the same,
Our meanings are not heard
Should you stop and look
You'll see we look like you
But if you dig down deep enough
There's nothing further from the truth
For you see our chests beat empty
Bloodied tears fall from our eyes
If you listen carefully
We're walking, breathing lies.
Walking dead
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Acting an all things creative
Now we have been in this game many times before. It's an interesting "hurry up and wait" scenario And can be very frustrating but that's when it pays to be a "reader." It's interesting, this business and the politics that go with it. For those of you that know Jamie, he is quite a charismatic soul. And he is the clown of our family. So it makes a natural cross over to acting. But as soon as you do this, the warnings come about child actors. Don't let them do this, make sure they don't do that.
I really do understand the concern. It's a dangerous world and a lot of that, for whatever reason becomes centralized in the film industry. So I really do understand the concern. One thing I am curious about though, is how everyone who gives the advice must think I am a complete moron and incompetent parent to not know the dangers in the industry. But I guess it is what it is.
Well, Jamie and I were watching a movie, a kids movie although I forget what it is at the moment....hold on checking with the kids.......Starstruck is the title. So Jamie and I were watching Starstruck and he turns and says to me. Mom...don't ever let that happen to me. I don't want all that.
I had not prompted this, but suffice it to say, I was thrilled and proud to hear him say it. In a sense, Jamie saw some of the dangers of this business and asked to be kept from it. Which makes me realize my son is a little wiser than I thought, and makes me a little more confident about entering this business.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Throw Away Girl
Throw Away Girl
She looked at him with pleading
eyes
Would he see through
her disguise?
One moment when her
guard was down
The pasted smile to
hide the frown
Chorus: She’s a throw
away girl
That
no one sees
A
throw away girl
A
living disease
Externally, she’s light
and bright
Nothing to betray her
fight
She laughs and giggles
life away
Hoping praying someone
would stay
No one sees gut
wrenching tears
From her heart that
bleeds her fears
A life of charm, the Midas
touch
No one knows her hidden
crutch
Will you be the one to
know?
The life of hell
beneath the glow?
Will you be the one to
stand?
Walk beside, hold her
hand?
©Kristie de Jong Nov. 2011
Monday, October 31, 2011
My House, my home...
So it is 2011 and I sit in the kitchen amidst a million boxes, the sun pouring in, my first cup of coffee and a head full of dreams.My dog is whining at the porch door, my cat is on the back of my chair. Oftentimes, there are two yearly points that people will stop and assess their life: New Year's being the obvious one and then September when the kids go back to school. But, as par for the course of my unusual life, I don't stop on those two points, in fact, I don't think I ever ponder at those two points. Rather it is moments like these when I think, when I ponder.
This year has been full of a number of things, some good, mostly bad. It started off with my being falsely accused of embezzlement. That particular episode started at the end of last year and rung in my new year. Not a great note to start on. This lasted a few months and ended with a severing of relationships as a result.
Next came my one vacation in 6 going on 7 years. It was a mini weekend escape. It was a time I remember with fondness. Upon arriving back home, I discovered that we had been robbed and stripped of nearly everything of value. This was followed by an assault and attempted robbery on my eldest son. The court case for this is still pending.
Summer was somewhat uneventful. I gave my daughter a brilliant 13th birthday. August was marked by a human rights tribunal complaint due to discrimination because I have children. That is still under investigation.
Then September hit and so did the Gang Task Force Invasion. You can read about that here. This was followed by more police involvement, another robbery. I believe I counted about 10 traumatic events in 20 days. And thus the more intentional search for a house ( which we found).
And then we had puppies and I had to paint and clean one house, while packing and cleaning the other house. And then we moved.
So here I sit, among unopened, and opened boxes, in a house that is partially painted and partially cleaned. And apart from being terribly sleepy, I think I am content (unless that's just the sleepiness kicking in.)
And I ponder. And dream for the good things in this house. For you see this house is already something of a dream. No, I do not own it. I wish I did. But it has many things I've dreamed of. I grew up with a wood burning fireplace. Here there are now banned unless you have a house with one in it already. And now? Well, I have two! I have a large master bedroom with two closets and a half bath ensuite. More things I have wished for. I have a house with lots of windows so the sun can get in everywhere. The front of the house faces east, the back west. I have enough bedrooms for the kids and a great rec/games room. I have a big back yard. I have a wrap around deck for summer barbeques. I also have an unfinished room that I hope to turn into an office. I have a house, but more importantly I have a home.I have a park right next to me.
So as I sit this morning and looik at the mountains outside, I ponder and I wish. I wish for many things in this house. I hope to be remarried. I hope to hear the pitter patter of baby feet once again. But most of all, I wish for peace and safety for me and my kids.
My little guy looked up at me as he drowsily fell asleep and said to me two things: I trust this house Mommy, I trust it because I slept it in and it was good. And then he said, Thank you Mommy for getting us a house that is safe....
This year has been full of a number of things, some good, mostly bad. It started off with my being falsely accused of embezzlement. That particular episode started at the end of last year and rung in my new year. Not a great note to start on. This lasted a few months and ended with a severing of relationships as a result.
Next came my one vacation in 6 going on 7 years. It was a mini weekend escape. It was a time I remember with fondness. Upon arriving back home, I discovered that we had been robbed and stripped of nearly everything of value. This was followed by an assault and attempted robbery on my eldest son. The court case for this is still pending.
Summer was somewhat uneventful. I gave my daughter a brilliant 13th birthday. August was marked by a human rights tribunal complaint due to discrimination because I have children. That is still under investigation.
Then September hit and so did the Gang Task Force Invasion. You can read about that here. This was followed by more police involvement, another robbery. I believe I counted about 10 traumatic events in 20 days. And thus the more intentional search for a house ( which we found).
And then we had puppies and I had to paint and clean one house, while packing and cleaning the other house. And then we moved.
So here I sit, among unopened, and opened boxes, in a house that is partially painted and partially cleaned. And apart from being terribly sleepy, I think I am content (unless that's just the sleepiness kicking in.)
And I ponder. And dream for the good things in this house. For you see this house is already something of a dream. No, I do not own it. I wish I did. But it has many things I've dreamed of. I grew up with a wood burning fireplace. Here there are now banned unless you have a house with one in it already. And now? Well, I have two! I have a large master bedroom with two closets and a half bath ensuite. More things I have wished for. I have a house with lots of windows so the sun can get in everywhere. The front of the house faces east, the back west. I have enough bedrooms for the kids and a great rec/games room. I have a big back yard. I have a wrap around deck for summer barbeques. I also have an unfinished room that I hope to turn into an office. I have a house, but more importantly I have a home.I have a park right next to me.
So as I sit this morning and looik at the mountains outside, I ponder and I wish. I wish for many things in this house. I hope to be remarried. I hope to hear the pitter patter of baby feet once again. But most of all, I wish for peace and safety for me and my kids.
My little guy looked up at me as he drowsily fell asleep and said to me two things: I trust this house Mommy, I trust it because I slept it in and it was good. And then he said, Thank you Mommy for getting us a house that is safe....
Monday, October 24, 2011
SWA (Superwoman Anonymous)
Hi! My name is Kristie de Jong and I am NOT a Superwoman. Although I suppose I look like it at times. BUT I am NOT superwoman. In fact, all I am is a simple girl with big dreams. However, I can see how some might think I am.
Let's recap: in the last five years I have survived, overcome, kicked and screamed through, gritted my teeth and held on while (insert favorite descriptive here) more crises than most people know exist.
I have: separated from an abusive husband who raped me
-re-entered University
-graduated with my BA in Honors Psychology
-raised three children
-taught said children HOW to have a healthy relationship with aforementioned ex
-fought through numerous career crushing rumours
-managed through numerous social services investigations disproving all rumours and accusations
-nearly obtained my MA in Counseling Psychology (thesis outstanding)
-survived rape while in University
-sold my marital home
-made an urgent move to a new address after the rape
-started a few different businesses (including my private practice)
-having to call 911 at various points to ensure my children's safety
-continuing abuse from my x
-accusations from a guy I "dated" that included my stalking him and B & E in his house
-ongoing estrangement from family because I will not subscribe to their mental/emotional abuse
-family siding with x
-having my life blogged about with blogs being laced with accusations, lies. rumors, slander and libel enough to upset my chi children
AND THIS YEAR ALONE:
-survived two robberies
-had my son assaulted
-waded (and still wading) through a human rights complaint
-discriminated against because I have children
-threatened with legal action
-accused of fraud and keeping funds for self gain (is that rightly called embezzlement?)
AND SINCE SEPTEMBER
-gang task force and SWAT descending on my property
-children trapped in the house whilst said SWAT and GTF were active on property
-police called on me for no reason
-verbal attacks by neighbors due to said SWAT and GTF (insert second roobery)
-son's accused floating on the outside of our lives (despite a no contact order)
-another urgent move (due to aforementioned GTF and SWAT)
-CSI investigation on property
-guns trained on my house during said SWAT and GTF investigation
-family members continuing to abuse by telling me that I have no right to fight for myself or my children, we should expect discrimination and suck it up and live in a shit hole because I am NO princess and deserve nothing better
-fighting with the current landlord to not enter my house without me there
-my dog being beat
-fighting with future landlord over safety concerns with the new house
-cleaning and painting new house
-packing and painting
-working two jobs
-managing the mental health of my children
(that's all I can remenber)
(and that's only the last couple years)
BUT
I
AM
NOT
SUPER
WOMAN
in fact, I am just a simple girl. I cry........ALOT. and I am weak. and I wish for someone to come along and help me with things. But no one offers. So I go it alone. I wish it were different and if it were me, I likely would go it alone. For you see, I am nothing more than those family members suggested. But my children are better. They are not THAT. They are amazing and they deserve the best of the best and so I fight for their sake. They have unheard of and untold hell as their life experience and yet their spirits are beautiful and amazing and joyous to be around. And so for them, I fight. For they deserve all those amazing things. And I die inside because I have nothing left. People "hear": and "see" my life but no one stands with me. They all remain outside observers with no one thinking that maybe, just maybe I cannot manage. Maybe, just maybe I need a hand. But everyone has lives, everyone has an issue or a something that prevents them from reaching out. And I will not ask,. I will NOT be a burden. I may not be superwoman, but I will not be a burden.
And so I keep going.
I cry.
I fall apart.
I scream.l
I stop functioning.
But all that needs doing gets done. For my kids. I show up to their field trips even if it means 5 sleepless nights to ensure the rest gets done.
And then I crash.
Cry
Weep
Bleed
Die
and although I look like Superwoman, I am NOT
Hi!
My name is Kristie de Jong
And I am NOT superwoman......
Let's recap: in the last five years I have survived, overcome, kicked and screamed through, gritted my teeth and held on while (insert favorite descriptive here) more crises than most people know exist.
I have: separated from an abusive husband who raped me
-re-entered University
-graduated with my BA in Honors Psychology
-raised three children
-taught said children HOW to have a healthy relationship with aforementioned ex
-fought through numerous career crushing rumours
-managed through numerous social services investigations disproving all rumours and accusations
-nearly obtained my MA in Counseling Psychology (thesis outstanding)
-survived rape while in University
-sold my marital home
-made an urgent move to a new address after the rape
-started a few different businesses (including my private practice)
-having to call 911 at various points to ensure my children's safety
-continuing abuse from my x
-accusations from a guy I "dated" that included my stalking him and B & E in his house
-ongoing estrangement from family because I will not subscribe to their mental/emotional abuse
-family siding with x
-having my life blogged about with blogs being laced with accusations, lies. rumors, slander and libel enough to upset my chi children
AND THIS YEAR ALONE:
-survived two robberies
-had my son assaulted
-waded (and still wading) through a human rights complaint
-discriminated against because I have children
-threatened with legal action
-accused of fraud and keeping funds for self gain (is that rightly called embezzlement?)
AND SINCE SEPTEMBER
-gang task force and SWAT descending on my property
-children trapped in the house whilst said SWAT and GTF were active on property
-police called on me for no reason
-verbal attacks by neighbors due to said SWAT and GTF (insert second roobery)
-son's accused floating on the outside of our lives (despite a no contact order)
-another urgent move (due to aforementioned GTF and SWAT)
-CSI investigation on property
-guns trained on my house during said SWAT and GTF investigation
-family members continuing to abuse by telling me that I have no right to fight for myself or my children, we should expect discrimination and suck it up and live in a shit hole because I am NO princess and deserve nothing better
-fighting with the current landlord to not enter my house without me there
-my dog being beat
-fighting with future landlord over safety concerns with the new house
-cleaning and painting new house
-packing and painting
-working two jobs
-managing the mental health of my children
(that's all I can remenber)
(and that's only the last couple years)
BUT
I
AM
NOT
SUPER
WOMAN
in fact, I am just a simple girl. I cry........ALOT. and I am weak. and I wish for someone to come along and help me with things. But no one offers. So I go it alone. I wish it were different and if it were me, I likely would go it alone. For you see, I am nothing more than those family members suggested. But my children are better. They are not THAT. They are amazing and they deserve the best of the best and so I fight for their sake. They have unheard of and untold hell as their life experience and yet their spirits are beautiful and amazing and joyous to be around. And so for them, I fight. For they deserve all those amazing things. And I die inside because I have nothing left. People "hear": and "see" my life but no one stands with me. They all remain outside observers with no one thinking that maybe, just maybe I cannot manage. Maybe, just maybe I need a hand. But everyone has lives, everyone has an issue or a something that prevents them from reaching out. And I will not ask,. I will NOT be a burden. I may not be superwoman, but I will not be a burden.
And so I keep going.
I cry.
I fall apart.
I scream.l
I stop functioning.
But all that needs doing gets done. For my kids. I show up to their field trips even if it means 5 sleepless nights to ensure the rest gets done.
And then I crash.
Cry
Weep
Bleed
Die
and although I look like Superwoman, I am NOT
Hi!
My name is Kristie de Jong
And I am NOT superwoman......
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Justice is an interesting beast.
I am not sure what I am going to write.l I know I am a vibrating mess. The last month and a half in my first ever home that I felt safe in, my world got turned upside down. We have had SWAT teams, gang task force, gunshots, neighbours calling police on me, people following my daughter and more stuff that slips my mind right now. Suffice it to say, it is time to move on. So after the human rights tribunal debacle, I found a new place. It's a bit more than I am paying now, however it is a nominal amount. And the good news? It is big, with a big yard, and four bedrooms, and two wood burning fireplaces (something my heart has desired forever). I am very excited. BUT it requires a TON of work. I have had to clean the entire place and it was DISGUSTING. I can't even describe the filth except to say that I have a commercial grade cleaner and it took washing the kitchen ceiling 3 times before it was clean. The carpets were soo dirty, nothing would clean them, and the place badly needed a paint job. So the deal we made with the rental company is this: they would clean the place before we painted, I would paint (they would cover up to $300.00) and they would replace the carpets.
They renigged on the cleaning. And the walls could NOT be painted in the state they were in. It would peel in about 3 months. I explained this to them and they held firm. So I cleaned. And then I went to paint, well so far I am at about 500 and I have a ton left to go. So likely the paint bill will be close too 1000.00 that I do not have. The carpets come in on Monday.
What I have since discovered (still have to verify) is that in BC there is a law that states that a landlord renting a place has to clean it, paint it and repair damage. All of that except the carpets I have had to deal with myself. So my intention is to go ahead and do the work, clean the house, paint the house and then work to recoup the cost of the paint, not the labor just the paint cost. It is illegal for them to do this to me, and so I am looking to recoup the cost of the paint and supplies.
So my dad phones tonight and asks how things are going. I tell him the state of the house and how things are progressing. Dad asked who is paying for all of this and so I explained about the cleaning and painting and the carpets and all hell breaks loose. I catch shit for trying to recoup my cost and he tells me that I should not be doing that and that I'm wrong. I should not be taking things to the level that I do and why the hell do I do that and think I can do that. I have no business taking things to this level ( the government) and he definitely does not agree with me. And why don't I just live somewhere else then. So I replied that I cannot afford anything else. He replied that I should stay where I am and why don't I? So I said that I am not going to continue to live in a place where the SWAT team descends upon my house and gun shots go off. His reply? Well that's all you can expect when you are only willing to pay 1500 and you should just suck it up and deal but definitely NOT fight this.I also told him that he doesn't have to agree with me but I am a 37 year old woman and quite capable of making my own decisions. He said I disagree. I said well I have raised three kids by myself for five years and have been doing it well. He said I don't want to hear all that. Through all this nattering about the take home message?
You are fkd up and I don't agree with what you are doing.
I told him numerous times that I did not have the energy to argue about this and if that was his intent then this conversation would have to happen another time. He said fine. So I said,k I love you dad, have a good night and good bye
He said bye.
He hung up.
They renigged on the cleaning. And the walls could NOT be painted in the state they were in. It would peel in about 3 months. I explained this to them and they held firm. So I cleaned. And then I went to paint, well so far I am at about 500 and I have a ton left to go. So likely the paint bill will be close too 1000.00 that I do not have. The carpets come in on Monday.
What I have since discovered (still have to verify) is that in BC there is a law that states that a landlord renting a place has to clean it, paint it and repair damage. All of that except the carpets I have had to deal with myself. So my intention is to go ahead and do the work, clean the house, paint the house and then work to recoup the cost of the paint, not the labor just the paint cost. It is illegal for them to do this to me, and so I am looking to recoup the cost of the paint and supplies.
So my dad phones tonight and asks how things are going. I tell him the state of the house and how things are progressing. Dad asked who is paying for all of this and so I explained about the cleaning and painting and the carpets and all hell breaks loose. I catch shit for trying to recoup my cost and he tells me that I should not be doing that and that I'm wrong. I should not be taking things to the level that I do and why the hell do I do that and think I can do that. I have no business taking things to this level ( the government) and he definitely does not agree with me. And why don't I just live somewhere else then. So I replied that I cannot afford anything else. He replied that I should stay where I am and why don't I? So I said that I am not going to continue to live in a place where the SWAT team descends upon my house and gun shots go off. His reply? Well that's all you can expect when you are only willing to pay 1500 and you should just suck it up and deal but definitely NOT fight this.I also told him that he doesn't have to agree with me but I am a 37 year old woman and quite capable of making my own decisions. He said I disagree. I said well I have raised three kids by myself for five years and have been doing it well. He said I don't want to hear all that. Through all this nattering about the take home message?
You are fkd up and I don't agree with what you are doing.
I told him numerous times that I did not have the energy to argue about this and if that was his intent then this conversation would have to happen another time. He said fine. So I said,k I love you dad, have a good night and good bye
He said bye.
He hung up.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Dear Mr. Thief
so, I thought that I'd write to you, not that you will ever see this but that matters not. I have now been affected and been your target twice. And so I thought I would share some of my thoughts with you. The first time we crossed each other's paths, was back in April. I took my kids away for vacation for the Easter long weekend. It was our first "vacation" in six years. And trust me it wasn't much of one. One of my girlfriends invited us up to her house so that we could get away and we went. So it wasn't a vacation in the truest sense, it was simply a bit of time away. We has a wonderful time and came back semi refreshed and ready to carry on. But you see, we came home to a house devastated with our few precious things gone. You chose to take my children's jewellery, their game system, our computer monitor, my jewellery..nothing that would net any great source of income, but things that were precious to me and my children.
Now, I am a single mother, barely making ends meet as it is. So really, nothing has been replaced My dad gave my kids an xbox 360 but apart from that, I have had not the income to be able to replace everything. I guess you thought that I had insurance and that I could replace things and so you would strike again. And this time? This time you took the last 3 remaining things that had any value. You took my laptop, my kids new xbox and my camera with which I make a living.
Can I ask you one question Mr Thief? Are you done now? Have you satisfied your lust for money, drugs and power? Are you done with robbing me?
I ask, not because I am mad at you. I ask because you stole things far more important than our stuff. And I ask because I need to know how to keep my children safe. For you see, you didn't just take our material possessions. That is the least of what you took. You took our safety, our sense of well-being, our faith and trust in mankind and you took the innocence of my children as they have had to wrestle with the knowledge that there are people in this world who think so selfishly that they would bring harm to another person. You took our sleep, as we wake many times through the night at whatever noise is outside, wondering hoping and praying that we stay safe.
You see, I raised my kids to know something different. I raised them to believe in the goodness of man. I raised them to trust that good people exist and that leading a good life, an honest life of integrity is the right way to do things. I raised them to not lie. I raised them with integrity. And in one selfish act you have shaken, and perhaps shattered everything that I have taught my children, who now question some of life's most core and fundamental principles.
They grieve the things they lost. I grieve the childhood you stole from them.
But Mr. Thief, I have chosen to bear you no ill will. And I have chosen to teach my children the same thing. Rather, we have decided to bless you. I don't know why you chose to do this., I don't know why you chose to inflict this suffering on us. But I have my suspicions. I believe that it is because you wanted drug money.
But you see, that makes me ache for your pain. Why? Because I know that drugs is a numbing agent. And for you to need drugs to numb must mean you are destroyed by the pain you carry. It is this thought combined with the thought my the fear my children now live with that causes me to cry myself to sleep at night and wake up crying through the night.. And so, Mr. Thief, I hope for you, I pray for you. I hope that one day something stirs in your heart that allows to know in a deep and tangible way something of the intangible things you stole from my children. But most of all, Mr. Thief, I hope and pray for your redemption, your freedom and your happiness.
While I cry, Mr. Thief, may you be blessed.
Now, I am a single mother, barely making ends meet as it is. So really, nothing has been replaced My dad gave my kids an xbox 360 but apart from that, I have had not the income to be able to replace everything. I guess you thought that I had insurance and that I could replace things and so you would strike again. And this time? This time you took the last 3 remaining things that had any value. You took my laptop, my kids new xbox and my camera with which I make a living.
Can I ask you one question Mr Thief? Are you done now? Have you satisfied your lust for money, drugs and power? Are you done with robbing me?
I ask, not because I am mad at you. I ask because you stole things far more important than our stuff. And I ask because I need to know how to keep my children safe. For you see, you didn't just take our material possessions. That is the least of what you took. You took our safety, our sense of well-being, our faith and trust in mankind and you took the innocence of my children as they have had to wrestle with the knowledge that there are people in this world who think so selfishly that they would bring harm to another person. You took our sleep, as we wake many times through the night at whatever noise is outside, wondering hoping and praying that we stay safe.
You see, I raised my kids to know something different. I raised them to believe in the goodness of man. I raised them to trust that good people exist and that leading a good life, an honest life of integrity is the right way to do things. I raised them to not lie. I raised them with integrity. And in one selfish act you have shaken, and perhaps shattered everything that I have taught my children, who now question some of life's most core and fundamental principles.
They grieve the things they lost. I grieve the childhood you stole from them.
But Mr. Thief, I have chosen to bear you no ill will. And I have chosen to teach my children the same thing. Rather, we have decided to bless you. I don't know why you chose to do this., I don't know why you chose to inflict this suffering on us. But I have my suspicions. I believe that it is because you wanted drug money.
But you see, that makes me ache for your pain. Why? Because I know that drugs is a numbing agent. And for you to need drugs to numb must mean you are destroyed by the pain you carry. It is this thought combined with the thought my the fear my children now live with that causes me to cry myself to sleep at night and wake up crying through the night.. And so, Mr. Thief, I hope for you, I pray for you. I hope that one day something stirs in your heart that allows to know in a deep and tangible way something of the intangible things you stole from my children. But most of all, Mr. Thief, I hope and pray for your redemption, your freedom and your happiness.
While I cry, Mr. Thief, may you be blessed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)