blades

My mom and I sat on the bench lacing up. I thought of how lucky I am to share this passion with my mom. Something special that we can do together.

The zamboni turned into its garage and the gates opened.

"Come on mom, lets go. It's time."

We step down on the ice. It is like we have been there all along. Never stopped.

The sound.

I cannot find the keystrokes, alphabet order, words to describe the sound of my blades on the ice.

The ice is clean, there are only about five other people here. We start gliding a little faster. Mom looks comfortable. Steady. Happy. I say "mom, can I go?" She nods and I am off.

My legs push, the picks launch me off and I am stroking around the ice. My ears are so cold they hurt and my legs feel a familiar burn. I can hear my blades. I wish I could describe the sound. I turn around, backwards crossovers, I can still do this. I can do this. Mom says try a jump. I do. Down I go. Sliding on my hip across the ice. Oh, no. I can do this and I find myself in the air with my arms and legs wrapped properly around my body into a graceful landing. It is a single. But it is a jump. I did it. Big smiles. Heart pounding. I feel such a freedom out here.

Try a spin. I cant. I get dizzy now. I try and try. Nope, that I cannot do. Not with any grace.

Mom says "You used to a beautiful Ina Bauer."

This is a pic of what an Ina Bauer looks like:"Ha, ha, mom, nice try, as if my body can twist like that now."

I feel challenged suddenly. Ok, I start skating - faster and faster - I go to the corner and cut diagonally across the ice - I twist my legs and feet in position and lean my head back. I do one. I hold it the length of the ice. I feel graceful. I feel like the teenager that was a skater way back then.

For the full forty minutes we were on that ice the ping pong mess of thoughts that have been ravaging my brain for months ceased.

My head felt peace.

animal therapy

As you know I am spending some time out at my mom and stepfather's place again this weekend. When I came home from there last weekend I spent far too many days at home hermitting myself again.

Mom had an idea for the perfect quiet, peaceful outing for today.

My mom picked up my sister and we drove out to my Auntie Carole and Uncle Ellis' house in Abbotsford. My mom and sister chatted in the front seat on the drive and I sat in the back and read a little and looked at the scenery.

These are some pics of the paradise Carole and Ellis call 'home' ... and some pics of their very special 'animal family'.

View from the front door:

This one of their many kitty cats :

Auntie Carole's horse CeeCee:

This is Oreo. Poor little Oreo is sick and not long for this world but oh,
so very loving. Are these not the kindest eyes?: The backyard ... a beautiful little private lake:
One of the many gorgeous flowers on the property:Another one of CeeCee:And yes, that is me on CeeCee below.

I would show you more pictures of CeeCee (I took about fifty of them!) but the remainder of the pictures have my aunt, sister or mom in them and my family is a little shy ... so I am going to respect that and not post their pics on here.

Anyways, after spending the day with my family and after a cuddle with one of the cats, some love from the dogs, a little ride on the horse and some really nice time with my wonderful Aunt, I am feeling a little better today.

Good idea mom. Thank you for suggesting it and thanks Mandy (my sis) for coming along. One last thank you to my Auntie Carole for the ride, sharing the love of your animals, your knowledge and positive nature.

I love you all to pieces.

... please be quiet continued ...

On Sunday morning, bright and early, Chico showed up at my mom's house to take me home. Knowing me as he does - knowing what would make me feel peaceful - knowing what I would need - on the way home we visited the ocean.

Here are the pictures taken that day at Belcarra Park.

I find myself back home, shutting myself in again.

This is doing me no good.

My mom is coming to get me again tomorrow. Thanks mom.

please just be quiet ...

First of all. Thank you Mom, Keith (my stepfather) and Chico. I know truly that I am loved.

Second. It is the anniversary of September 11. This reminds me that there are people in this world going through horrible, devastating events in their lives. I feel for them. I remember that day vividly. I am so very sorry for those families touched by this unbelievable event.

***

If you have been reading for the last month or so you know that I have been at home, off work, seeing a counsellor once a week, and working through what I can only describe as some sort of breakdown. This is hard for me to write about. But I need to write.

I am not myself. I am not the strong woman most of you know (knew?). I do not want to leave the house, I have my phone off and am not answering emails. I do not want to talk. If you are talking softly to me or around me, I am listening though.

Other than going to the doctor or the counsellor I have not left the house much. On some level I recognize that hermitting myself is probably making things worse, but I cannot seem to help myself. When I am at home alone, the thought of seeing people, having to interract, talk, socialize or be around the loudness that is our city makes me anxious.

I discussed this with my counsellor we felt that some exercise and fresh air might help. I asked Chico to take me on a hike. On September 2 we ended up at Lynn Canyon with a backpack filled with healthy food and a plan to take some pictures and sweat a little.

We get there and the parking lot is full. I am in the passenger seat wanting to beg him to turn around, I do not want to see all these people. There are mothers yelling at their children, children screeching, and the loud voices of males trying to get some attention from nearby females.

"It's ok, Kell, lets go."

We get out of the car, open the trunk, get the camera and backpack and make our way up to the up to the little suspension bridge. The people around us are so loud. I can sense Chico watching me. I recognize that he is trying to understand how hard this is for me and how much the noise is bothering me.

We make our way across the bridge and start on the trail. It is beautiful here.

... If everyone would just shhh ... why the need for loud voices? Would it really be so terrible to be silent for a few minutes and take in the beauty of our world?

We hit the trail, work up a bit of a sweat. As we head back down Chico suggests going off the trail, down below where there are no tourists. Brilliant! Here I found the silence and beauty I was looking for. We ate lunch and took pictures.

It was paradise and exactly what I was looking for. Thank you Chico.

***

Later in the week, after spending a few days at home alone avoiding people I asked my mom to come with me to my Dr. appt on Friday. I wanted to be alone, I did not want to see people but knew if I made a plan with my mom she would get me out and about.

By Thursday, I hit a new low, a low that I do not feel comfortable describing here. I was feeling not right. I emailed my mom and asked her to take me home with her after the Dr. appointment on Friday.

My mom did not hesitate. She came to the house Friday morning, saw me struggling to pack a bag, and listened as I spilled everything that was going on in my head to her. I had a good cry. My mom is not used to this, I have generally been self-sufficient as an adult and do not 'run' home everytime something happens to me. My mom was amazing. She listened. She was supportive and positive and non-judgmental. She helped me pack. She went to the Dr. with me and took me home with her. It was exactly what I needed. Her home is beautiful and quiet. She had a room downstairs for me to use with its own t.v., bathroom, and quiet space.

Also at my mom's is my little baby Lady:

Lady did not leave my side the entire weekend. She slept downstairs with me. She followed me everywhere. When I woke up for two hours at 3 a.m., she woke with me and put her head on my arm while I read. She would get up early, jump off the bed, run upstairs and wake up Keith to go for her morning walk. The minute she came back in the door and the leash was off, she would run back downstairs and hop back in bed with me.

I miss her now. I wish I could have my own dog where I am, I think it would do wonders for me. I think it is exactly what I need. She was just there. All the time. Silent and loving. Can you please get me my own baby to have at home?

The weekend was peaceful. My mom said my sister was worried about me and had her and my stepbrother for dinner on Friday night. While barbecuing my mom and sister and I sat on her balcony, flanked by the forest in the back, talking quietly. In the evening, Mom and I would sit in the den and watch the news. Keith would bring her a glass a wine, me a waterbottle and he would make us a snack of Breton crackers with cream cheese and red pepper jelly. We just sat together and watched the news. It was nice to be with people but to be able to just sit in silence if I wanted to.

On Sunday morning Chico came early in the morning to get me but I will try and write about that tomorrow. I also have some pictures to share.

Thank you again Mom and Keith. I am at home now and know that I will be heading back there soon.

hermit

I am still living the life of a hermit. That is just the way it is right now. My friends have been trying to contact me but I am still feeling like I want to be alone. I have a lot of thinking to do. I dont know why letting everyone back in is so hard right now. I hope it changes soon. Because of this I have not gone far but this weekend was my baby sister's 30th birthday and my mom had a party for her. There were a few old family friends that I do not get to see often so Chico drove me out there to give my sister a gift and to visit for a couple of hours. It was nice to be around familiar people who have loved us for a lifetime. People with their own stories that I can just sit and listen to. Other than that, I haven't gone far. Been on the couch watching the last of the Rome disks. Its done. What series is next? Any ideas blogging friends?

Unfortunately with being at home I do not have anything interesting to blog about, but I do have something to share with you - My daughter Megan recently did a modelling shoot for a hairdressing salon. Here is one of the photos. She is to the right of her (boy)friend Jordan.

I think they are beautiful.

and the award goes to my mom and my best friend ...

Words any girl is happy to hear and lucky enough to receive from her mom:

Please know that I am here and would be there on a moments notice.

Love you Mom

Simple, to the point, appreciated and noted.

Thanks mom

*******************************

An email exchange:

Re: I stink

I guess I had better clean up before you get here. I have been lazy on my couch for days, I cannot remember when I last washed my hair.

Brilliant response:

Re: Re: I stink

I won't care ... you once threw up on my feet, did not phase me a bit ...


Now that is the love of a best friend. Almost, just almost enough, to tear me away from the blog reading, soap operas, Ellen and self pity party and go upstairs and use some soap and maybe shampoo. Toothpaste would probably be a good idea too.

Almost

on being substantial

sub·stan·tial –adjective
1. of ample or considerable amount, quantity, size, etc.: a substantial sum of money.
2. of a corporeal or material nature; tangible; real.
3. of solid character or quality; firm, stout, or strong: a substantial physique.
4. basic or essential; fundamental: two stories in substantial agreement.
5. wealthy or influential: one of the substantial men of the town.
6. of real worth, value, or effect: substantial reasons.
7. pertaining to the substance, matter, or material of a thing.
8. of or pertaining to the essence of a thing; essential, material, or important.
9. being a substance; having independent existence.
10. Philosophy. pertaining to or of the nature of substance rather than an accident or attribute.
–noun
something substantial.
—Synonyms: stable, sound, On being substantial
sub·stan·tial –adjective

Am hurting a little today. Something happened to make me feel like I am failing somewhere, somehow at who I want to be. I suddenly feel like I do not possess the qualities I need to hold onto what is or who is important to me. Can this be true?

At the end of it all. When my ashes are being scattered across the ocean I want to be remembered for being a substantial human being.
Someone with layers.
I want to be remembered for doing good in the world.
I want to make a difference.
I want to have possessed positive qualities amongst my flaws ... I want to do things for people that matter.
Outer beauty is fleeting (how cliché is that?) and at the end of the day does not mean anything. Physical beauty’s only purpose (that I can see) is to initially attract potential partners… if there is nothing else behind the skin, the eyes, the hair and clothes then there is not much else to hold onto. I have something else there really... please just look.

I hope the words ‘kind’, ‘loving’, ‘giving’, ‘caring’ would be words that come off your lips once I am gone.

And I hope I was loved ...

on happiness

I read an article in the Globe today called 'Are you Happy?'.

Well readers - are you?

When asked, the answer to that question for me is a genuine yes.

I like my life. I have a wonderful family, a beautiful daughter, incredible lifelong friendships, amazing new friends, a job that challenges me, and I am fairly sure I am a good human being (as I've said before - flawed, severly flawed) but a desire to be good, better ...

... indeed I have all the necessary items to be able to say that I am genuinely happy.

Does this mean that I do not have hurt in my life? Of course I do. I have anxiety and stress. I have longings that go unfulfilled. I have days where I am unsure of myself and my place in the world. Some days I do not know my purpose and if I should even have one other than enjoying my life.

And there is pain, plenty of it. These things, I am told, are a part of life.

Something I've learned along the way is that it is the moments, the single snapshots of your day/life that add up to make it a good life. My mom is a great proponent of doing what you need to do in the moment to make yourself happy.

Looking back on those crazy moments when I feel insane with hurt or am so stressed I cannot see a way out and I dont know what to do I recognize that I have the power in those moments to say to myself "What do I need right NOW to make me happy in this moment" and to take the results of that question and proactively seek out that happiness. When I dont do that for myself, I have nobody to blame but myself.

It is hard mantra to follow in certain [most? some? =))]situations and I fail miserably sometimes [often, always, never, sometimes =)))] (nice try Kel, more like OFTEN!) ... But I do recognize that I have the power in my own hands to be happy, to enjoy my life and to be in charge of making the choice to be happy. It is just that, a decision.

One of the lines in the article reads (and hits home with me):

"The state of the world is often annoying. But maybe you've been too busy channelling positive energy to notice. Freud certainly wasn't. The father of modern psychology thought that humans weren't meant to feel consistently happy, since "all the regulations of the universe run counter to it." And yet somewhere along the line we forgot Freud and embraced Tony Robbins."

it goes on to say:

"The problem with the culture of incessant happiness is that it's one of the things that drives social dissatisfaction, you're asked to take yourself as a constant self-improvement, and frankly this never ending quest is exhausting."

I'd be interested to 'hear' your opinions on this subject. Those two paragraphs hit home, then they didn't then I went back around again. Doesn't matter. What do you think??

feeling nostalgic

Today Finn wrote a post about the awesome storms in the Toronto area .... her post made me a little weepy ...

Do you miss the summer storms in Toronto as much as I do?

I wish I could jump on a plane and escape with you for a few days - would it help our weird little world make more sense or would it make it that much more confusing?

Yes, readers, I know you dont understand this post ... another one for me! =)

i am a lucky woman

to have known Michael Edward Killingsworth.

My dad.

Fifteen years ago today he died of cancer.

My mom met him when I was a little girl. They fell in love. Married. I attended that wedding. I think I was five. Then my dad chose to be my father. He adopted me.

Because it was a choice it means more to me than if he had been my biological father. He chose to have me in his life, put up with my teenage years, guide me, and to unconditionally love me in moments I suspect I was very hard to love. This meant and does mean the world to me. I have and never will forget that I was lucky enough to have those years with him.

This man had qualities that I want to emulate in my adult life. Thinking of him makes me want to be a better person. He taught me life lessons that help me out every day of my life. On many occasions when I am making tough decisions I think "What advice would my dad give me?". It is funny how that one question can and has cleared up so many confusions for me.

I am sad that he is gone - but thankful for the gift that he was.

We all miss you.

the love of my life ...

Being Megan's mama has been the single most important event in my life. Being a single parent has been the single hardest struggle in my life. Worth every moment of uncertainty. But nonetheless, a struggle.

Being Megan's mama has brought me the most happiness, fulfillment, pain and heartache than any other single event in my life.

I dont expect another event or person to touch my life like my daughter has.

I dont expect to ever love another human being as I love her.

Because I had her so young she was the beginning of the story of my journey into adulthood.

Having her started shaping the human being I am today. I have never been an adult without her. I have grown up with her.

I have made so many mistakes. Too numerous to count or apologize for. I continue to make them. This has been a 17 year learning process. No one makes me feel more human than Megan does.

I was only nineteen when she was born. Only a year and a bit older than she is now. I was a baby. I loved her from the first second I knew I was pregnant.

My first ultrasound was on Valentines day. I cried. I was scared. I wanted her so badly.

Her name was to be Christina. Christina Marie. She ended up as Megan Marie. When I was pregnant with her I watched a show called Nightingales. The main character in the show had a daughter named Megan.
When she was born she had these big blue, almost purple eyes. She smiled a lot. She was a happy baby. I would put her in her snugly and carry her close to my chest all day long. She would tilt her head back and smile up at me. I loved her breath. That beautiful baby breath. Those gums, eyes, skin and baby hair. I was and am so in love.

I wasn't prepared for the journey. I wasn't prepared to have my heart live outside of my body. But truthfully that is where it resides. With her. Every step she takes, she takes me with her. When she is happy, I am happy, when she feels pain, I am in pain. When she is mad, I understand and am angry right along with her. When she is in love, I remember being a teenager in love. My life goal is to shield and protect her from a harsh life. To remind her to be kind to herself and others. To live. Please live. Really really live. Dont wait. Dont struggle to much, it wont mean anything down the road. So please listen to mama, just live. Ok?







Isn't she absolutely beautiful???

second posting today ... mom and carole

Here is a little hello and an introduction to my mom and to her best friend Carole. We grew up with Carole so my sister and I call her Auntie Carole.

My mom has been reading my blog from conception. She now knows more about me than she ever wanted to know! She took a little break from reading it while her computer was at the computer hospital so I know she must be doing some serious reading to catch up on my life. Like, I said before Mom, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

I never put anything mean or unkind about anyone in here but it can get a little, um - personal!

Yesterday, mom taught herself how to comment on my blog. Yippee for mom! She says she will try to disguise herself next time so watch out for 'Tink' because that'll be her!

So Auntie Carole if you are reading this, you and mom are the stars of my blog today. I hope you leave comments too because you never fail to make me chuckle! Dont try to hide your identity though... I'll out ya'!

Much love,
k

gratitude for my friend

thank you chico

thank you for knowing me as well as you do and loving me anyways...

thank you for your text last night ... just knowing you care makes it all simmer down ...

may you get back ten thousand times as much love in your life as you give out.

mwuah.

.... and may you get ten thousand spankings for that devious, very male side of you... the good kind of spankings! =)))))

The Photo Album

My mom drove downtown this weekend to spend the day with me. My best friend was moving out of the house and I was feeling really down. Mom didn’t know this before she came to get me but was a wonderful ear for my feelings about him moving out. One thing about my mom – she is always in your corner. And a great person to have there. So we got that conversation over with and headed out to Granville Island for the day. It is incredible that at my age something as simple as spending the day with your mom can make you feel needed, loved and important.

When my mom showed up at the house she brought with her a photo album she had created. She had gone through all her old photos and made an album for my sister and I (one for each of us). My dad died when he was 41 so this was hard task for my mom. She is now remarried to a great guy (almost five years!) and they are doing the happily ever after thing … =)

Anyways, the album. It has pictures of me when I was little, my mom when she was little, my dad, grandparents, sister, stepfather, stepbrother and all our friends along the way. She had kept old figure skating photos of me, race day pictures of my dad (he raced drag boats!), pictures of me sitting on my Papa’s lap as a young girl, pictures of me bathing with the dogs (!well yuck!) and pictures of my Nana as a beautiful twenty-something gal… everything you could think of… including some bad perm pictures that we could have done without saving!

In the album Mom included a photo of the two of us. Mom would have been about 21 or 22 and she was holding me in her arms. She looked like a baby herself. She actually looked like an innocent Marilyn Monroe! Across the page there is a picture of me and Megan together. I must have been about 21 or 22 also. I look like a baby too. We were both young mothers. We have followed a similar path being that my mom was born in 49, I was born in 69 and my beautiful daughter was born in 89.

NOTE TO MEG – not a chance you are making me a grandma in 09 little lady!!! =)

Anyways, thanks mom!

Mom, Keith, Craig, Mandy and Meg

Thank you for one of the best Christmases I can remember. It was incredible.

Two Posts Today - couldn't resist this one...

Ok, a little preface to this. I have a seventeen year old daughter, see pic below... Her father and I have been split up since she was a baby. I raised her on my own and he came back into her life during the terrible teen stage to make an already hairy scary time that much more pleasing ... but anyways... I have had to bite my tongue on many occasions over the years... dont want to say too much about him or what he is like to her. I wanted her to form her own opinion and relationship with him. Needless to say, it has been really TOUGH sometimes, but I've been pretty good... and then I get this text this morning from my baby girl:

"How did you not beat the crap out of my dad when you were with him? I'm getting pretty close to wanting to".

Hm, what do you think? I think she's figured him out! Poor kid. Will keep you posted. =)