Love Letters

We had my family over for dinner on Valentine's Day last weekend, in honour of Valentine's and Family Day and because I hadn't had my family over in ages. It was lovely. The arrival of the little girlie cousins turned the main floor into a mini-kindergym almost instantaneously. We had to take several trips to the basement to dust off some push/ride vehicles to ensure that each child had something to ride. And adding to the ambiance was the incessant roaring of the plasma car on our porcelain tiles as my son did the racing circuit around the kitchen/dining/living room. With the parade of vehicles following his trusty lead.

And just like old times, my Mom brought along something to cook; a 1.5 pound bass and some chicken and ginseng soup. To go perfectly with my sticky pineapple ribs and rice. But then it's always a bit of a smorgasbord when my Mom is involved.

So it was just like old times. Except it was so very different. This, sat empty:



My Dad always occupied this chair whenever he came over. It's a very cushy, comfy chair, perfectly positioned to watch CNN, the Stock Channel, TSN ... and keep a peripheral eye on the grandkids. Also perfectly positioned in the corner such that catching a wink or two while everyone else was partying wouldn't be noticed. Or so he thought.

It's been almost a month now since he's been gone. In some ways it seems like he's on a cruise, or an extended trip to the casino. It's still very surreal.

Whenever I run into people who I haven't seen since I shared the news, or if I meet others that I haven't seen in a while and I bring them up to date, I'm always told that I appear to be so strong, to be handling all this with such grace. I don't know about that. I don't know if I'm dealing with this well at all - do I seem too cheery, not sad enough, too nonchalant? Does my telling of this crazy ride seem too trite, like I've moved on and things are normal already?

Because things, well they are so not normal.

I'll cry in the shower. I'll cry while driving. I'll cry. Whenever I'm alone.

During his last days, all of those closest to him got to spend alone time with him. We came pretty close to losing him so many times in a period of a few weeks before he finally succumbed. But he considered it a blessing that he had the opportunity to say what he wanted to say ... and I tried to take that opportunity to say everything I wanted to say too. Truth be told, I said a lot of it to him while he was asleep in the hospital room, through my heart as I couldn't talk without breaking down in front of him.

The one thing that Dad really wanted was to watch his grandchildren grow. Besides my mom, they were who he was really fighting for. They are so young still, his grandchildren. My boy, his first grandchild, he will certainly remember. But my little G, while she talks about her Gong-Gong now, and she knows he's not here with us anymore, she knows he's in heaven playing with all the good guys (is he with Elvis, Mommy?) ... but these things will fade. The baby girls, unfortunately, won't know him.

But they'll all have a piece of him.

About a week before Dad passed, although very winded and experiencing difficulty breathing let alone talking, he dictated four letters to my sister. One letter for each grandchild, a special message from their loving Grandpa.

And on Valentine's Day this year, my sister gave my kids their letters. It was a happy but bitterweet and emotional evening.

So indeed he was here with us last weekend. In his words, he reminded us that he's in our minds and in our hearts. Where he will always be.

And on that note, I'm off to cry again.

Friday Flashback - Geek

I'll let you in on a secret.

I was a homely kid. Oh I know, I know, you don't believe me ...the gorgeousness that is me, there is no bloody way, right? (all of this coming to you tongue-in-cheek in a MOST sarcastic tone...).

It wasn't so bad here:

But to go from there, to the following in a couple of short years???

Glasses? Check.

Bad hair cut? Check.

Acne at 9 years of age? Check.

No bra required? Check (well, still checking as we speak).

Braces? Well of course -- Check.

Scrawny, skinny, shy ... Checkmate.

Brace yourself:

(don't know why I'm smiling so much in this shot, maybe the braces were coming off soon? It could NOT have been because I was loving my peasant outfit or how my hair flipped just so, maybe I was just in a fog because I couldn't see without my glasses on...)

I thank my lucky stars all the time that my grandparents emigrated to Canada and that my father had good health and dental insurance plans for us while growing up. Because if I were still in China, I would be a lonely old maid right now. Absolutely no doubt about that.

And kids, we all know how cruel they can be.

Fortunately, our boy seems to have taken after his father and appears to be fairly popular, at least at this stage of his childhood. His Dad was the kid with the long hair and tight painter-pants, who knew all the cool music, but would still chat with you on the schoolbus even if you wore homemade clothes (a quote from an old friend of his who likes to tease him...).

Not that being popular is the be all and end all, but it certainly doesn't hurt.

The one thing our boy also inherited, unfortunately for him, are his parents' sets of large chompers. Very large teeth, in a small jaw, means major overcrowding, and nowhere for the adult teeth to go. He's got a cross-bite and over-bite ... two for the price of one. As we both needed orthodontic work, we knew braces were in the future for him (and likely his sister) but I wasn't expecting it to come so soon. He's not even 9 years old.

I brought him to the dentist today for the extraction of his two baby eye teeth. Oooff. Those roots were big. But he did so well, the laughing gas didn't hurt, and he was such a trooper. I was so proud of him. These days they do things preventatively, before the bones harden. So rather than waiting until he's older, like when I was a teen, they're trying to shape things going forward.
He's taking it easy now, after playing Wii fit for about 20 minutes (you CAN'T keep an 8 year old down). And he's warned me, apparently the going rate for the tooth fairy for these mega eye teeth is $20 per tooth!!!!

Uh, I don't think so. Wishful thinking, little guy. The $9.99 Polar Bear Webkinz is gonna have to do, buddy!

For more flashbacks, check out my gal pal at Mommy Always Wins...

They say it's your birthday

(and are these not beautiful, courtesy of my SIL who went all out over T-giving)

It's my birthday too, yeah.

Meh.

So today's the day, and all of Canada is so excited, hopefully they'll go out and vote!

What's on today's agenda? Well, I started out with half and half cream in my coffee instead of 1% milk, I have to do a little work, run a few errands, vote ... but I will treat myself by checking out a newly renovated mall. Sans kids.

Thank goodness for life's little pleasures.

The last few years of birthdays, it hasn't been more than just another day really, another few pounds after a feast with family. This is the problem with having a birthday around Thanksgiving.

Roast beef dinner on Saturday; steak dinner last night with my parents and sister's family; and special birthday dinner with the man tonight. No beef or duck for me, though, as apparently I don't want to be a quack (ancient Chinese rules).

Yes, I am missing my favourite gyrating workout night to go to my fave restaurant in our neck of the woods.

They say that before you hit 45, it is possible for a woman to get rid of an advancing gut with exercise. So thank goodness there are still a couple of years left where there is hope.

Hope starts tomorrow ;).

PS. I did something crazy - well for me - that I just may post in a couple of days. I have to wait until I'm good and drunk to share it though.

The Day is Near

The first day of the school is on September 2 this year. We'll bring the boy to the schoolyard where the rest of the students, all several hundred of them, will congregate. We will look for the big "3" among the sea of heads to find out which placard holder will be his teacher. It will be chaotic.

And then the "other" first day of school, will be September 3. The monumental one. The first day of kindergarten for the little G.

When we decided that it made so much sense for me to stay home with the kids almost four years ago, I was thrilled. To be able to spend such quality time and actually be present for the first big steps in my daughter's life and see firsthand the continuing progress of my little man - what a gift.

But four years goes by so quickly. I hadn't thought much about this upcoming milestone. Perhaps it's because she's always been so independent, wishing that she could like her big brother and hang out with the other big kids. Constantly telling me that she's a big girl now and not my baby. She's never been too much of a baby to me.

*****

Over lunch one day this past week, my boy, the first baby, my sensitive one, asked me:

"Hey Mom, when G's in school, won't you really, really miss her?"
It took me aback a bit. And I replied:

"Well, she's been in preschool a couple of mornings a week, so it won't be such a big change."
"Mom, I know you're used to me being gone for a full 6 hours, but you've been with just G everyday. For three whole years!! I guess it will be different when she's in full-day school."
Little G piped in : "Yeah, 'cuz I'm a big girl and I'll be in kindergarten with my best friend."
The conversation then turned to something completely different. I think it was the weather.

As a mother, I tend to operate more on the "drill sergeant" end of the spectrum. I don't really get too sentimental, I lack patience, and even though I do love to cuddle with my kids and give them spontaneous hugs and kisses, sometimes I feel that I can even be downright cold. At least that's my self-perception.

But after the kids left the table and I was by myself in the kitchen, washing the dishes, seeing the water swirl down the drain ... I started to cry. Just a little.

My baby, my littlest one, will be starting school. She is so excited. She will sail through her first day. She will not look back. She may even forget to say goodbye to me. I know this with such certainty.

There's a part of me that wishes we could just have a little more summer, a little more sun, a little more play.

"On an island in the sun
We'll be playing and having fun..."*



The rush to grow up, it's just starting. I know it isn't nearly as huge as this.

But honestly, right now, this is the most I can handle. And barely at that.

(*Who knew I was such a Weezer fan. I can't get this tune out of my head these past few days...)