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!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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............

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

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

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.

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. 

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.