"Man who waits for roast duck to fly into mouth must wait very, very long time." - Unknown
For all of you regular readers, you know that I generally put some sort of quote that relates to how I'm feeling in my blog. Today's quote has nothing to do with how I'm feeling - or so I thought....
My first thought was "Yeah, every wife could say this to their husband at some point!" But then I did this weird thing...I started looking at the "deeper meaning" behind this Confucious-esque quotation. And I think...I think that what it might actually be telling me is "Shelley, if you want something done, get off your ass and do it, no one else is going to do it for you!"
I have a vein in my forehead. This isn't like any other vein in my body. This vein will actually "pop out" of my forehead when I'm pushed far enough. Generally this frustration has built up over time while I have been waiting for someone else to get something done. "Can you take a look at this document and provide me with revisions, please?" "Can you take out the garbage, please?" "Are you able to...." and I wait.
My husband was actually very good at this game. He would wait until he saw the vein start throbbing before he would do something I asked of him. Then, right before it was about to blow, he would get up and get started on whatever was required of him. (The solution to this of course is to actually let the vein pop out and unleash a holy terror of expletives and feelings of under-appreciation - I completely recommend this avenue to anyone)
Let me be honest though, I don't typically ask a lot of people. I am a firm believer that if I think that I am going to do it better than someone else, don't ask them to do it. There is nothing more cruel that you can do to someone then ask them to do something and the redo it after they've done it. It does nothing to build trust or self esteem in any relationship - and since I generally have a good idea in my head of what I want done, I don't ask for someone else to do it for me.
The flip side of that, however, is that I am ridiculously accommodating, if someone asks me to do something, I'll do whatever I can. Even when I tell someone I don't have the time or resources to lend to a project, if they come back to me and word it even just a little bit different, I'm likely to find time in my schedule to accommodate the request. Even if it makes my vein pop out.
The problem with this, is that I have sort of created my own monster. People have come to rely on me, in fact they rely on me to the point where I feel taken advantage of. Perhaps they know they are taking advantage or perhaps they don't know.
What I do know is that I am more than willing to roast my own duck. The question is...are you?
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
"You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection." - Buddah
I have been loathing myself the last couple of weeks. While I was away on vacation, I caught a bug and haven't worked out in two weeks. I'm pretty discouraged, but I will say that Jo has remained in close contact and has continued to be a source of encouragement - who could ask for a better friend and trainer?
I have really struggled with putting this particular blog together and I'm not sure why. I wonder a little if it is the on-going struggle that women have as a whole accepting that they are deserving of love and affection and more importantly that it's okay to love ourselves and treat ourselves with dignity and affection.
When did we learn to put ourselves in second place? Who taught us that our feelings were not as important as someone else? Why is it so hard for us to love ourselves?
I was always afraid of being alone. That if I said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing I would be left by myself. I defined myself with the company of others and was always devastated when they didn't value the relationship as much as I did.
When I was 18, I met this most amazing boy. Handsome, popular, confident, he was everything that I thought I wanted - and incredibly, he seemed to be in to me too! We crashed together and blew apart in epic proportions for two years. When he moved away to Grand Cayman. I followed him there with the idea that we would be together forever. When I got there, he told me about his girlfriend on the island, the stewardess that would fly in every couple of weeks, and of all things, the fiancee he had back in Calgary!
What happened next was really amazing. I was scheduled to be on the island for 3 weeks. I packed up my bags after five days and moved in with a bunch of guys that ran a local dive shop. I wound up staying on the island for 5 months and turned into a completely different person. I worked at the dive shop, got PADI certified and spent every day on the ocean. Cathartic, perhaps, what I know is that one night, at 2am in the morning wheeling my luggage down a broken paved road, wild pack dogs following me as I walked along the beach to my new home, I had taken ownership of me. I wouldn't be defined by someone who didn't value me and I never would again.
I confess it's not been an easy road and my occasional love/hate relationship with me has been challenging, but at 37 years old, 17 years after that life-defining moment I can proudly say that I have the voice to put myself first when I need to, I have the esteem to stand up for what I believe in, and I love myself enough to know that I can stand alone if I have to.
I'm just really glad I don't.
(as an aside, I ran into "that boy" two years later, the day after I got engaged to my now husband of 13 years. As Garth Brooks once said "sometimes I thank God, for unanswered prayers.)
I have been loathing myself the last couple of weeks. While I was away on vacation, I caught a bug and haven't worked out in two weeks. I'm pretty discouraged, but I will say that Jo has remained in close contact and has continued to be a source of encouragement - who could ask for a better friend and trainer?
I have really struggled with putting this particular blog together and I'm not sure why. I wonder a little if it is the on-going struggle that women have as a whole accepting that they are deserving of love and affection and more importantly that it's okay to love ourselves and treat ourselves with dignity and affection.
When did we learn to put ourselves in second place? Who taught us that our feelings were not as important as someone else? Why is it so hard for us to love ourselves?
I was always afraid of being alone. That if I said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing I would be left by myself. I defined myself with the company of others and was always devastated when they didn't value the relationship as much as I did.
When I was 18, I met this most amazing boy. Handsome, popular, confident, he was everything that I thought I wanted - and incredibly, he seemed to be in to me too! We crashed together and blew apart in epic proportions for two years. When he moved away to Grand Cayman. I followed him there with the idea that we would be together forever. When I got there, he told me about his girlfriend on the island, the stewardess that would fly in every couple of weeks, and of all things, the fiancee he had back in Calgary!
What happened next was really amazing. I was scheduled to be on the island for 3 weeks. I packed up my bags after five days and moved in with a bunch of guys that ran a local dive shop. I wound up staying on the island for 5 months and turned into a completely different person. I worked at the dive shop, got PADI certified and spent every day on the ocean. Cathartic, perhaps, what I know is that one night, at 2am in the morning wheeling my luggage down a broken paved road, wild pack dogs following me as I walked along the beach to my new home, I had taken ownership of me. I wouldn't be defined by someone who didn't value me and I never would again.
I confess it's not been an easy road and my occasional love/hate relationship with me has been challenging, but at 37 years old, 17 years after that life-defining moment I can proudly say that I have the voice to put myself first when I need to, I have the esteem to stand up for what I believe in, and I love myself enough to know that I can stand alone if I have to.
I'm just really glad I don't.
(as an aside, I ran into "that boy" two years later, the day after I got engaged to my now husband of 13 years. As Garth Brooks once said "sometimes I thank God, for unanswered prayers.)
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
"This, this is about my own some-day daughter. When you approach me, already stung-stayed with insecurity, begging, “Mom, will I be pretty? Will I be pretty? , ” I will wipe that question from your mouth like cheap lipstick and answer no.
The word pretty is unworthy of everything you will be, and no child of mine will be contained in five letters. You will be pretty intelligent, pretty creative, pretty amazing, but you will never be merely “pretty.” - Katie Makkai (see the entire poem at http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pretty-19/)
I was an unfortunately ugly child. I can say this with some authority since I was there, and I remember everything that ever made me feel less than beautiful. The short boy-cut hairstyles that my aunt used to give me, the glasses that were so thick and heavy they pulled my ears forward like cab doors, the hand-me-down clothes that never fit quite right or were given to me just as they went out of style...
I was four the first time my parents took me to Hawaii. For those of you who have never been, in Hawaii, you are often greeted with a lei of flowers given to you by either a male or female native Hawaiian - depending on your gender, if you were boy you would go the female greeter, if you were a girl, subsequently you would go to the male. I was so ugly when I was four that even in a skirt and a shirt that said "Hawaiian Princess", I was often shuttled to the female greeter.
I have countless scars from my childhood related to my appearance, from the boy who so cruelly asked me out on a date and when I accepted said "No thanks, I don't go out with dogs." to the girlfriends who said "You can't hang out with us because Jay and Alex don't think you're pretty enough."
I never had to ask if I would be pretty, I already knew the answer.
In my last year of high school, I had a friend, his name was Rob. Rob went to our school, he had been a rugby player, but joined our cheerteam and cheered with me on the Calgary Stampeders Cheerteam. He used to drive me to the city of practice and one day we were talking about the end of high school and he told me:
"You know Shelley, when you were in Grade 10, you were barely noticeable. In Grade 11, it was like "oh hey, there's Shelley", and in Grade 12 it was like "whoa, there's Shelley!" You have truly grown into a beautiful young woman."
A year out of high school I was in a local bar, these two boys sent a drink my way and I went over to them. We hung out for a few hours talking, dancing, having a great time. When it was time to leave the one boy asked if I would go home with him. I looked at him and said "You really don't know who I am, do you.?" He looked confused and when I revealed to them both that I was the same girl they had ridiculed in high school for three years, they looked shocked (faces I still find amusing today). "Fuck, did you ever get HOT." the one boy replied.
My point in all of this, is that I never really got over my youth, I have never looked in the mirror and said "wow, Shelley, you are amazing" I have never viewed myself as one of the "beautiful girls" (and you know who I'm talking about). I still see that little girl in the mirror with the terrible hair cut, the giant looking ears and the horrible lime green leisure suit with the screen on tiger print. I have spent so much of my life chasing some idealistic version of "beautiful" or "hot", that I've made that version too big, too unattainable. Will I ever be comfortable with me? Will I ever see myself the way someone else does? Do I want to?
I do however, know what I will tell my daughter if she ever asks...
The word pretty is unworthy of everything you will be, and no child of mine will be contained in five letters. You will be pretty intelligent, pretty creative, pretty amazing, but you will never be merely “pretty.” - Katie Makkai (see the entire poem at http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pretty-19/)
I was an unfortunately ugly child. I can say this with some authority since I was there, and I remember everything that ever made me feel less than beautiful. The short boy-cut hairstyles that my aunt used to give me, the glasses that were so thick and heavy they pulled my ears forward like cab doors, the hand-me-down clothes that never fit quite right or were given to me just as they went out of style...
I was four the first time my parents took me to Hawaii. For those of you who have never been, in Hawaii, you are often greeted with a lei of flowers given to you by either a male or female native Hawaiian - depending on your gender, if you were boy you would go the female greeter, if you were a girl, subsequently you would go to the male. I was so ugly when I was four that even in a skirt and a shirt that said "Hawaiian Princess", I was often shuttled to the female greeter.
I have countless scars from my childhood related to my appearance, from the boy who so cruelly asked me out on a date and when I accepted said "No thanks, I don't go out with dogs." to the girlfriends who said "You can't hang out with us because Jay and Alex don't think you're pretty enough."
I never had to ask if I would be pretty, I already knew the answer.
In my last year of high school, I had a friend, his name was Rob. Rob went to our school, he had been a rugby player, but joined our cheerteam and cheered with me on the Calgary Stampeders Cheerteam. He used to drive me to the city of practice and one day we were talking about the end of high school and he told me:
"You know Shelley, when you were in Grade 10, you were barely noticeable. In Grade 11, it was like "oh hey, there's Shelley", and in Grade 12 it was like "whoa, there's Shelley!" You have truly grown into a beautiful young woman."
A year out of high school I was in a local bar, these two boys sent a drink my way and I went over to them. We hung out for a few hours talking, dancing, having a great time. When it was time to leave the one boy asked if I would go home with him. I looked at him and said "You really don't know who I am, do you.?" He looked confused and when I revealed to them both that I was the same girl they had ridiculed in high school for three years, they looked shocked (faces I still find amusing today). "Fuck, did you ever get HOT." the one boy replied.
My point in all of this, is that I never really got over my youth, I have never looked in the mirror and said "wow, Shelley, you are amazing" I have never viewed myself as one of the "beautiful girls" (and you know who I'm talking about). I still see that little girl in the mirror with the terrible hair cut, the giant looking ears and the horrible lime green leisure suit with the screen on tiger print. I have spent so much of my life chasing some idealistic version of "beautiful" or "hot", that I've made that version too big, too unattainable. Will I ever be comfortable with me? Will I ever see myself the way someone else does? Do I want to?
I do however, know what I will tell my daughter if she ever asks...
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010 - Supplemental
"I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life. I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life." I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back. I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one. I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I've learned that I still have a lot to learn. I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." - Maya Angelou
Enough said...Thanks Maya.
Enough said...Thanks Maya.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
"The person who gets the farthest is generally the one who is willing to do and dare. The sure-thing boat never gets far from shore." - Dale Carnegie
Dear Readers and Mathletes - I feel like I spend a lot of time apologizing to you for failing to keep up with my blog, but here I am again, apologizing for being away from you for the last two weeks! To be fair, I was away on a much needed vacation south of the boarder. Given the ridiculous amount of money you have to pay for data services in the US, it wasn't likely that I was going to keep up anyway - of course the amount of money I lost at the poker table would have paid plenty.
I am going to keep today's blog short(er) as my work life is nearly unmanageable this week, but I wanted to share something with you. First of all, props and big shout out to Jo, of Jo Dumont Fitness Training (www.jodumontfitnesstraining.com) who has joined the ranks of the bloggers. Check her out at http://jdft.blogspot.com.
The reason I point out Jo's blog is that it is probably one of the best blogs that I have read to date. At first I thought it was because I know Jo and might still be girl crushing on her, but the more I think about it, I think it's because in her blog, Jo opens the doors and makes herself vulnerable. For a long time I have viewed Jo in awe of all the things she does, how she manages her life, her children, her business and while Jo is still tremendous at all these things, her blog identifies some of her true feelings, guilts, and fears - and I realize that we aren't so very different. That we share many of the same guilty feelings about raising children, worry about paying bills, wanting our life to work out in spite of every possible obstacle known to man being thrown up in front of us...We just never talk about those things out loud.
If it's possible, I respect Jo more today than I did yesterday.
Dear Readers and Mathletes - I feel like I spend a lot of time apologizing to you for failing to keep up with my blog, but here I am again, apologizing for being away from you for the last two weeks! To be fair, I was away on a much needed vacation south of the boarder. Given the ridiculous amount of money you have to pay for data services in the US, it wasn't likely that I was going to keep up anyway - of course the amount of money I lost at the poker table would have paid plenty.
I am going to keep today's blog short(er) as my work life is nearly unmanageable this week, but I wanted to share something with you. First of all, props and big shout out to Jo, of Jo Dumont Fitness Training (www.jodumontfitnesstraining.com) who has joined the ranks of the bloggers. Check her out at http://jdft.blogspot.com.
The reason I point out Jo's blog is that it is probably one of the best blogs that I have read to date. At first I thought it was because I know Jo and might still be girl crushing on her, but the more I think about it, I think it's because in her blog, Jo opens the doors and makes herself vulnerable. For a long time I have viewed Jo in awe of all the things she does, how she manages her life, her children, her business and while Jo is still tremendous at all these things, her blog identifies some of her true feelings, guilts, and fears - and I realize that we aren't so very different. That we share many of the same guilty feelings about raising children, worry about paying bills, wanting our life to work out in spite of every possible obstacle known to man being thrown up in front of us...We just never talk about those things out loud.
If it's possible, I respect Jo more today than I did yesterday.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
"The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change." - Carl Rogers
I refuse to be excited about this. Repeat. I REFUSE to be excited by this.
Okay, it doesn't matter, I'm excited and no matter how much I want to refute the excitement, I am excited.
Since all of you are just dying to know what I am excited about, I am going to share it with you....I have lost seven pounds. Yes, you heard me, 7!
Now for all of you mathletes out there, you need to have all of the story to truly understand why this is significant. Approximately 10 days I go, I sent a note to Jo - of Jo Dumont Fitness Training (jodumontfitnesstraining.com) telling her that if I gained two more pounds I would be sticking my finger down my throat. I had just stepped on the scaled and discovered that I had gained more weight, bringing my total weight to 16 pounds. (That made me 154 pounds).
Pretty discouraged about the whole thing, I turned to Jo. Now why this is significant, is that normally and probably long before now, I would have quit on Jo. Determined that I could do this on my own, I would strike out, go back to my bad eating habits and lose the weight. Sure, I would lose the weight, but I wouldn't have achieved all of the successes that I have now:
Jo was incredibly responsive to my desperation. She took time out of her busy Sunday night to talk me off the ledge and come up with a plan for me. A plan that I can buy into and have been working really hard at in the past 10 days and the results are beginning to speak for themselves.
Going to JDFT has probably been one of the best decisions that I have ever made for myself. Amanda and I had an amazing run last Thursday where we ran 6.5k in intervals. I was running faster than I have ever run before and it was AMAZING! On Saturday, I joined up with Jo, Amanda, Shannon and Brandi for a Thanksgiving Weekend Last Chance Workout, I didn't pig out on Thanksgiving (I could hardly move, but that's another blog) and went back to the gym for Hardcore last night. Dare I say, I am "committed?" GASP
No blog would be complete without a shoutout that I feel is long overdue. Shannon is another one of the trainers at JDFT. She has never taught me in a class, but I have had the pleasure of working out with her. She is full of energy and contains a great deal of motivation just by showing up and doing a class with you. Not only is she willing to listen to the concerns you have about your fitness/program/weight, she has a built in empathy that makes it really easy to talk to her and tells you "hey, I've been where you are". Thank you, Shannon.
I refuse to be excited about this. Repeat. I REFUSE to be excited by this.
Okay, it doesn't matter, I'm excited and no matter how much I want to refute the excitement, I am excited.
Since all of you are just dying to know what I am excited about, I am going to share it with you....I have lost seven pounds. Yes, you heard me, 7!
Now for all of you mathletes out there, you need to have all of the story to truly understand why this is significant. Approximately 10 days I go, I sent a note to Jo - of Jo Dumont Fitness Training (jodumontfitnesstraining.com) telling her that if I gained two more pounds I would be sticking my finger down my throat. I had just stepped on the scaled and discovered that I had gained more weight, bringing my total weight to 16 pounds. (That made me 154 pounds).
Pretty discouraged about the whole thing, I turned to Jo. Now why this is significant, is that normally and probably long before now, I would have quit on Jo. Determined that I could do this on my own, I would strike out, go back to my bad eating habits and lose the weight. Sure, I would lose the weight, but I wouldn't have achieved all of the successes that I have now:
- I have muscle tone in areas of my body that haven't had tone since the early 90's. (do you notice how the 90's looks older when you type is 1990?)
- I have more energy than I have had in years.
- I can lift 195 pounds off the ground.
- I can run 6.5k in intervals in less than an hour. (the bigger story might be that I actually choose to run).
- I may even like me!
Jo was incredibly responsive to my desperation. She took time out of her busy Sunday night to talk me off the ledge and come up with a plan for me. A plan that I can buy into and have been working really hard at in the past 10 days and the results are beginning to speak for themselves.
Going to JDFT has probably been one of the best decisions that I have ever made for myself. Amanda and I had an amazing run last Thursday where we ran 6.5k in intervals. I was running faster than I have ever run before and it was AMAZING! On Saturday, I joined up with Jo, Amanda, Shannon and Brandi for a Thanksgiving Weekend Last Chance Workout, I didn't pig out on Thanksgiving (I could hardly move, but that's another blog) and went back to the gym for Hardcore last night. Dare I say, I am "committed?" GASP
No blog would be complete without a shoutout that I feel is long overdue. Shannon is another one of the trainers at JDFT. She has never taught me in a class, but I have had the pleasure of working out with her. She is full of energy and contains a great deal of motivation just by showing up and doing a class with you. Not only is she willing to listen to the concerns you have about your fitness/program/weight, she has a built in empathy that makes it really easy to talk to her and tells you "hey, I've been where you are". Thank you, Shannon.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
"Sincere forgiveness isn't colored with expectations that the other person apologize or change. Don't worry whether or not they finally understand you. Love them and release them. Life feeds back truth to people in its own way and time.” - Sara Paddison
Beets. Plain old garden variety beets. Who knew the beets were going to be the insight that made the biggest change in my life since the birth of my daughter?
Yesterday I went to visit my aunt who is dying of cancer. I was pretty matter-of-fact about the visit and wasn't even remotely nervous about seeing my aunt until I actually got to the hospice - that was when the nerves set in. I had no idea what to expect and what I expected was not at all what I encountered.
My aunt, who two weeks ago had been given 2 - 4 weeks to live, looked nothing like someone I would expect was going to die in the next few days - weeks. She was bright, cheerful, she didn't look sick, gaunt, or deathly in any way. Except for thinned hair (which was growing back since they had stopped chemo treatments months ago), you could have swore this was any regular visit in the living room of her house - if her bed was in her living room and if we were in her her house instead of the hospice.
My uncle was there and my oldest cousin and they were never far from her and were very aware of every movement or twinge of pain that she was experiencing. Apparently the tumors have given her acid reflux something awful and several edemas in various locations in her body. They very quickly glossed over every tube hanging from her body and what drugs were inserted into each tube - the medications were nothing short of an alphabetized list designed to bring my aunt comfort since the doctors had stopped trying to test or treat her cancer, she simply is after all, going to die and they may as well make her comfortable in her final days.
After the medical synopsis, it was as if there was no illness between us and my reason for a visit was simply because I was in the neighbourhood. Death was merely the white elephant in the room. We talked about the last year (since it had been over a year since they had seen me) and my aunt asked many questions about my life and what I was doing.
At one point we spoke of my grandmother and her ability to make the best pickled beans ever. My aunt recalled how much I liked pickles and my cousin asked if I even liked pickled beets. (which, of course I do). My cousin and my uncle don't like beets, and my aunt wondered about the beets she had at home and how they might go to waste.
How surreal this seemed to me. Here you are, lying in a bed, dying of cancer, not knowing which day would be your last and you're worried about beets?
It was in that moment, that a strange realization crept over me. That if I was going to die, this is how I would want to go. To be so at peace with the inevitability of my life that I could be concerned about beets. My aunt, surrounded with her family, knowing she is loved and that everyone had the opportunity to see her and make their peace. That she too had time to receive absolution where/if required.
After a very awkward goodbye. (I mean, what do you say "good bye, see you later, get well soon?") I gave an awkward hug and a kiss good bye, hugged my uncle and cousin and walked out of the room.
As I walked out of the building with the knowledge that I would not see my aunt until her funeral, I realized just how much extra weight I had been carrying, not just the physical weight, but the emotional weight that I have carried with me for far too long and I know that I don't want to carry it anymore.
So I picked up the phone, called my mom and dad. I drove the extra 45 minutes to where they live and we met for a late dinner. We didn't talk about the past and why we hadn't spoke in the last 17 months, it was just nice, easy conversation in a neutral location and even though I didn't say it out loud to them, in that moment, I forgave them. I acknowledged in my heart that they did they best they could for me and that even if they were blind to my pain and their ability to take some of it away for me, I could only simply forgive them to remove the pain myself and move forward.
Maybe now I can start forgiving myself.
Beets. Plain old garden variety beets. Who knew the beets were going to be the insight that made the biggest change in my life since the birth of my daughter?
Yesterday I went to visit my aunt who is dying of cancer. I was pretty matter-of-fact about the visit and wasn't even remotely nervous about seeing my aunt until I actually got to the hospice - that was when the nerves set in. I had no idea what to expect and what I expected was not at all what I encountered.
My aunt, who two weeks ago had been given 2 - 4 weeks to live, looked nothing like someone I would expect was going to die in the next few days - weeks. She was bright, cheerful, she didn't look sick, gaunt, or deathly in any way. Except for thinned hair (which was growing back since they had stopped chemo treatments months ago), you could have swore this was any regular visit in the living room of her house - if her bed was in her living room and if we were in her her house instead of the hospice.
My uncle was there and my oldest cousin and they were never far from her and were very aware of every movement or twinge of pain that she was experiencing. Apparently the tumors have given her acid reflux something awful and several edemas in various locations in her body. They very quickly glossed over every tube hanging from her body and what drugs were inserted into each tube - the medications were nothing short of an alphabetized list designed to bring my aunt comfort since the doctors had stopped trying to test or treat her cancer, she simply is after all, going to die and they may as well make her comfortable in her final days.
After the medical synopsis, it was as if there was no illness between us and my reason for a visit was simply because I was in the neighbourhood. Death was merely the white elephant in the room. We talked about the last year (since it had been over a year since they had seen me) and my aunt asked many questions about my life and what I was doing.
At one point we spoke of my grandmother and her ability to make the best pickled beans ever. My aunt recalled how much I liked pickles and my cousin asked if I even liked pickled beets. (which, of course I do). My cousin and my uncle don't like beets, and my aunt wondered about the beets she had at home and how they might go to waste.
How surreal this seemed to me. Here you are, lying in a bed, dying of cancer, not knowing which day would be your last and you're worried about beets?
It was in that moment, that a strange realization crept over me. That if I was going to die, this is how I would want to go. To be so at peace with the inevitability of my life that I could be concerned about beets. My aunt, surrounded with her family, knowing she is loved and that everyone had the opportunity to see her and make their peace. That she too had time to receive absolution where/if required.
After a very awkward goodbye. (I mean, what do you say "good bye, see you later, get well soon?") I gave an awkward hug and a kiss good bye, hugged my uncle and cousin and walked out of the room.
As I walked out of the building with the knowledge that I would not see my aunt until her funeral, I realized just how much extra weight I had been carrying, not just the physical weight, but the emotional weight that I have carried with me for far too long and I know that I don't want to carry it anymore.
So I picked up the phone, called my mom and dad. I drove the extra 45 minutes to where they live and we met for a late dinner. We didn't talk about the past and why we hadn't spoke in the last 17 months, it was just nice, easy conversation in a neutral location and even though I didn't say it out loud to them, in that moment, I forgave them. I acknowledged in my heart that they did they best they could for me and that even if they were blind to my pain and their ability to take some of it away for me, I could only simply forgive them to remove the pain myself and move forward.
Maybe now I can start forgiving myself.
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