Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Why this blog?
I have many, many stories. I don't know if everyone has such stories and would love to know. But I certainly have my share of heartfelt, God-inspired ones. I want to write from my heart as inspiration serves me. I had been collecting them, and will now post them here.
God Does Take Care of You
had received a back injury when I was 15 years old. I was listening to the radio that said the Coast Terrace Inn was having a free fitness day to come try out their equipment--little did I know at that time that I would be paying for that 'free' visit for 15 years!
You see, I had a big, built, steroidal guy show me the ropes. I was insecure and shy. When he showed me how to stretch out my legs in front and try and reach forward, I did not go down far enough and he pushed down on my back till I touched my legs. I felt the pain immediately. It was unbearable. This was the start of a 15 year journey of horrible, horrible back pain. I saw more doctors and specialists and wore back braces you name it. It was so bad at times, I couldn't even walk. It was like my back detached from my legs and it just didn't work. The challenge with a back injury is that you don't look injured. I had such a hard time at Superstore as it was so hard for me to stand and work and I had to miss a fair bit of time. The supervisor was not understanding about this and she didn't hide it.
However, when I was doing things I enjoyed like karate or mountain biking, or cycle touring, I could tolerate the pain--it was still there, but I loved what I was doing so much, that I just pushed through the pain day in and day out.
Then I got pregnant. I did get a new side hip pain that I had to quit work for a bit early. BUT, my 15 years of back pain came to an end. Gone. Just.Like.That. Wow! I thought I would have to live with that forever, and God gave me a child and took away my pain so that I could care for him to my utmost capacity. I am now very aware of Cory's pain and how debilitating pain can be as I lived with it for so long. I can empathize with anyone who has chronic pain. It appears that God has put me on this planet to be a compassionate, understanding soul by allowing me to have so much pain. I best start putting this gift to use.
You see, I had a big, built, steroidal guy show me the ropes. I was insecure and shy. When he showed me how to stretch out my legs in front and try and reach forward, I did not go down far enough and he pushed down on my back till I touched my legs. I felt the pain immediately. It was unbearable. This was the start of a 15 year journey of horrible, horrible back pain. I saw more doctors and specialists and wore back braces you name it. It was so bad at times, I couldn't even walk. It was like my back detached from my legs and it just didn't work. The challenge with a back injury is that you don't look injured. I had such a hard time at Superstore as it was so hard for me to stand and work and I had to miss a fair bit of time. The supervisor was not understanding about this and she didn't hide it.
However, when I was doing things I enjoyed like karate or mountain biking, or cycle touring, I could tolerate the pain--it was still there, but I loved what I was doing so much, that I just pushed through the pain day in and day out.
Then I got pregnant. I did get a new side hip pain that I had to quit work for a bit early. BUT, my 15 years of back pain came to an end. Gone. Just.Like.That. Wow! I thought I would have to live with that forever, and God gave me a child and took away my pain so that I could care for him to my utmost capacity. I am now very aware of Cory's pain and how debilitating pain can be as I lived with it for so long. I can empathize with anyone who has chronic pain. It appears that God has put me on this planet to be a compassionate, understanding soul by allowing me to have so much pain. I best start putting this gift to use.
Listen to your inner voice-God is trying to tell you something
I took Cory weekly to gymnastics. He enjoyed it and I wanted him to have a good activity. He was 4 when he started. There was a day however that I would find out later was the start of the greatest and most challenging journey of my life.
On this day, the children were sitting in their circle as they always did before class with me sitting upstairs watching from above. I noticed a child coughing with the worst cough I had ever heard. God spoke to me. He literally was screaming at me to get Cory out of there. I have NEVER felt such an urge to leave! It was unbearable. But I argued back. I couldn't just go down there and pull him in front of all these people!! So this bantering went back and forth and I was shaking with fear. I just felt strongly that I was to take him and leave. That was friday. By sunday he was getting the sniffles and by monday he couldn't walk normal. He was limping very strangely to the one side with horrible pain. It was the oddest thing. This was the start of what has turned out to be one of the scariest things I have had to deal with...and believe me, I have had my share!
Next time your inner voice speaks to you, by all means LISTEN and ACT and save yourself the angst.
On this day, the children were sitting in their circle as they always did before class with me sitting upstairs watching from above. I noticed a child coughing with the worst cough I had ever heard. God spoke to me. He literally was screaming at me to get Cory out of there. I have NEVER felt such an urge to leave! It was unbearable. But I argued back. I couldn't just go down there and pull him in front of all these people!! So this bantering went back and forth and I was shaking with fear. I just felt strongly that I was to take him and leave. That was friday. By sunday he was getting the sniffles and by monday he couldn't walk normal. He was limping very strangely to the one side with horrible pain. It was the oddest thing. This was the start of what has turned out to be one of the scariest things I have had to deal with...and believe me, I have had my share!
Next time your inner voice speaks to you, by all means LISTEN and ACT and save yourself the angst.
Up In Smoke
My grandfather and I used to play this particular game every night at dinner. He knew I was repulsed by butter. So he would always offer it to me, and always slide it in front of my plate. This went on forever.
One day, when I had moved out on my own with Kevin, I was frying up some butter. I noticed that it started smoking as I obviously must have had the heat up so high. I remember thinking that this was a rare occurence as I usually pay good attention to it. Within an hour I got a phone call. Apparently my grandpa had gone to the hospital due to a minor heart attack. When everyone left his room, without saying a word, he left the earth...right when my butter would have went up in smoke.
One day, when I had moved out on my own with Kevin, I was frying up some butter. I noticed that it started smoking as I obviously must have had the heat up so high. I remember thinking that this was a rare occurence as I usually pay good attention to it. Within an hour I got a phone call. Apparently my grandpa had gone to the hospital due to a minor heart attack. When everyone left his room, without saying a word, he left the earth...right when my butter would have went up in smoke.
Evenings With Grandpa
I lived with my grandparents for about 3 years while I went to University. My grandfather never wasted his words and when he spoke, it was either important, or witty. Apparently, he never spoke till he was 5. The stories go that they had taken him to some 'witch' in Ireland who pulled out his tongue, looked at it and said that this boys was just fine and would speak when he was good and ready. And so it was.
My grandfather taught me everything I needed to know about finances evenings after supper. We truly don't learn enough in schools. I learnt about investing and he actually got me some AB Bonds which back then were 14%. He taught me how to do my own income taxes saying that I needed to learn to understand how money is made and how the government takes it share. He taught me about the stock market and all the terms that go with that. He taught me about mortgages and interest rates and saving etc. Without him, I would never had saved that first $1000 to buy a bond. I saved $5000 over the years only to cash it in when Kevin and I wanted to buy our first house. He also had $5000 in a life insurance policy his parents took out for him. By buying and selling real estate, we took that meager $10 000 and made it into a whole heck of a lot more. I have been told I should be a financial advisor by financial advisors and that I should be a realtor by realtors. But, alas, it doesn't interest me THAT much!
I owe all my current wealth to my grandfather. The fact that at this moment, I don't have to work, I can homeschool my kids, I can spend the time researching options for Cory that I would not otherwise have time for. All this a gift--a gift of knowledge--of course I had to DO something with the knowledge for it is useless without ACTION. But I took my training to real life, applied it and succeeded. I could have been way more successful financially, but chose family instead. Once I learnt how to win at the 'money game', I was no longer interested in focusing on it so much. I know how to play my cards to work the least to maximize the most. Of course, anything can happen in life, but with the knowledge grandpa taught me, I understand how to manage my money...something that every school should teach their children. Of course, at today's house prices, the amount I have is peanuts, but with my creativity, I can continue to live a life without the 9-5. There is no greater gift he could have given me. I put his cherished words to good use.
My grandfather taught me everything I needed to know about finances evenings after supper. We truly don't learn enough in schools. I learnt about investing and he actually got me some AB Bonds which back then were 14%. He taught me how to do my own income taxes saying that I needed to learn to understand how money is made and how the government takes it share. He taught me about the stock market and all the terms that go with that. He taught me about mortgages and interest rates and saving etc. Without him, I would never had saved that first $1000 to buy a bond. I saved $5000 over the years only to cash it in when Kevin and I wanted to buy our first house. He also had $5000 in a life insurance policy his parents took out for him. By buying and selling real estate, we took that meager $10 000 and made it into a whole heck of a lot more. I have been told I should be a financial advisor by financial advisors and that I should be a realtor by realtors. But, alas, it doesn't interest me THAT much!
I owe all my current wealth to my grandfather. The fact that at this moment, I don't have to work, I can homeschool my kids, I can spend the time researching options for Cory that I would not otherwise have time for. All this a gift--a gift of knowledge--of course I had to DO something with the knowledge for it is useless without ACTION. But I took my training to real life, applied it and succeeded. I could have been way more successful financially, but chose family instead. Once I learnt how to win at the 'money game', I was no longer interested in focusing on it so much. I know how to play my cards to work the least to maximize the most. Of course, anything can happen in life, but with the knowledge grandpa taught me, I understand how to manage my money...something that every school should teach their children. Of course, at today's house prices, the amount I have is peanuts, but with my creativity, I can continue to live a life without the 9-5. There is no greater gift he could have given me. I put his cherished words to good use.
The Wedding Dress
I was gifted a wedding dress from my aunt and uncle. I picked out a reasonably priced one and started planning my wedding. It was very, very generous of them to buy it for me. I don't think I thanked them enough. There was a catch. My grandma always talked of this aunt with accolades. No one could outdo her, she did everything right etc. etc. When all I started hearing from my grandma was how much she was helping me and how great she was etc. etc., I realized that the success of my whole wedding was going to be attributed to her. I was not in a mental state to deal with that. I had failed at everything my entire life in her eyes thus far (so I felt )and was never told I was good at anything and the last thing I could handle, was to have my grandma give her all the credit....so, based on this alone, I cancelled the wedding.
Extreme yes. But I wanted the wedding to be about me and not what a wonderful job so and so did. I wanted my grandma to think I was wonderful, not her. I could never compete with her and I quite disliked her for that. It wasn't her fault, but due to all the prior pain in my life, I was just not at an emotional state that I could handle that.
So I gave the dress back to them. God made good use of it. You see, she had a knock on her door by some mormon girls who wanted to help out around her house as part of their training. So she allowed them to do so and became smitten with them. Over time their relationship grew and the one girl was getting married. She offered her the dress and the girl was thrilled!! They even went to her wedding and have remained in contact years later...so although it did not work for me, it worked in even more amazing ways. God is amazing.
Oh, I forgot to mention...the designer name on the wedding dress was Jessica...as was the name of the girl who wore it on her wedding day.
Extreme yes. But I wanted the wedding to be about me and not what a wonderful job so and so did. I wanted my grandma to think I was wonderful, not her. I could never compete with her and I quite disliked her for that. It wasn't her fault, but due to all the prior pain in my life, I was just not at an emotional state that I could handle that.
So I gave the dress back to them. God made good use of it. You see, she had a knock on her door by some mormon girls who wanted to help out around her house as part of their training. So she allowed them to do so and became smitten with them. Over time their relationship grew and the one girl was getting married. She offered her the dress and the girl was thrilled!! They even went to her wedding and have remained in contact years later...so although it did not work for me, it worked in even more amazing ways. God is amazing.
Oh, I forgot to mention...the designer name on the wedding dress was Jessica...as was the name of the girl who wore it on her wedding day.
The Rose
I was just over at a friend's house on the weekend and we were chatting about this and that and then I got onto my dime story somehow. I had never told this couple this story before. Well, that led to the quarter story and we were sharing these things. Just three years ago they lost a dear sister-in-law. Their love for this family is beyond words. A precious 3yr old was left without a mother who died of cancer so young. Kara is the proud recipient of all of this girls outgrown clothes each year and I have so connected to their love and story. The three of us shared tears at the table as we thought about our loved ones. They talked of how certain songs would remind you of your loved one. I remembered The Rose. I have not thought about that song for quite some time...but I said if I even begin to hear that song I am done for! Wouldn't you know it they were playing it at an outside farmer's market in Sherwood Park once! I had no where to run and hide...the tears started pouring out....now I will tell you why.
This morning I was cleaning my grandma's recipe book shelf as it is a big mess. I found a dime. Then I found a folded sheet of paper. I opened it up. This is what it said:
SHARON FRANCES DAWSON BATIUK- 1947-1991
"Some say love-it is a river, that drowns the tender reed. Some say love- it is a razor that leaves your heart to bleed. Some say love-it is a hunger, an endless aching need. I say love-it is a flower and you-its only seed. It's the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance. It's the dream-afraid of waking-that never takes the chance. It's the one-who won't be taken, who cannot seem to give-and the soul-afraid of dying, that never learns to live, when the spring becomes a Rose"
Remembering Sharon--laughing, dancing, partying and kicking up her heels on a summer evening during those wonderful teenage years.
March 3, 1991
OK, now I don't even remember that everyone else knew the importance of this song to my mother, and I don't remember this about her funeral, but they must have played it. I cried through the whole thing, so how was I to remember anything (I only laughed at the viewing). But, her whole life she would play this song here and there. This WAS her song. I don't know why she chose it, and quite frankly, until this very moment when I read this this morning, I never paid any attention to the words. She would lie on the couch and bounce her head to this song. Must have been her way of dealing with all the abuse and her lack of love in her life from her husband. The words are quite powerful actually now that I read them. Although I did burst into tears this morning as I read them as I had just found a dime seconds before hiding nearby. And the timing, just after talking about this song this weekend and posting my laughing fit story at her viewing yesterday.
So yes, this IS my mother's song and it must symbolize the grief she felt in her heart. And I think we all need to take these words to heart. They are extremely purposeful words and when we get caught up in the drudgery of life, we must remember why God put us here and that we are here to love with all our hearts. Love is to be given away and the need is great.
Going back to my Quebec story, I found it interesting that the girl that was on the phone when the whole dime/quarter thing happened was named Rose.
This morning I was cleaning my grandma's recipe book shelf as it is a big mess. I found a dime. Then I found a folded sheet of paper. I opened it up. This is what it said:
SHARON FRANCES DAWSON BATIUK- 1947-1991
"Some say love-it is a river, that drowns the tender reed. Some say love- it is a razor that leaves your heart to bleed. Some say love-it is a hunger, an endless aching need. I say love-it is a flower and you-its only seed. It's the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance. It's the dream-afraid of waking-that never takes the chance. It's the one-who won't be taken, who cannot seem to give-and the soul-afraid of dying, that never learns to live, when the spring becomes a Rose"
Remembering Sharon--laughing, dancing, partying and kicking up her heels on a summer evening during those wonderful teenage years.
March 3, 1991
OK, now I don't even remember that everyone else knew the importance of this song to my mother, and I don't remember this about her funeral, but they must have played it. I cried through the whole thing, so how was I to remember anything (I only laughed at the viewing). But, her whole life she would play this song here and there. This WAS her song. I don't know why she chose it, and quite frankly, until this very moment when I read this this morning, I never paid any attention to the words. She would lie on the couch and bounce her head to this song. Must have been her way of dealing with all the abuse and her lack of love in her life from her husband. The words are quite powerful actually now that I read them. Although I did burst into tears this morning as I read them as I had just found a dime seconds before hiding nearby. And the timing, just after talking about this song this weekend and posting my laughing fit story at her viewing yesterday.
So yes, this IS my mother's song and it must symbolize the grief she felt in her heart. And I think we all need to take these words to heart. They are extremely purposeful words and when we get caught up in the drudgery of life, we must remember why God put us here and that we are here to love with all our hearts. Love is to be given away and the need is great.
Going back to my Quebec story, I found it interesting that the girl that was on the phone when the whole dime/quarter thing happened was named Rose.
Laughter Isn't Always What Its Cracked Up to Be
I have no idea why I laugh so much. I myself am not funny, but I LOVE to laugh! I got nicknamed early in life in grade 3 as giggles and it seemed to stick. Why a child who has had so much abuse and lack of love and hurt would laugh so much is beyond me! So of course when I met Patti, she was the same way and the laughter was unbelievably uncontrollable! I have never laughed so much in my life since meeting her. But I still laugh alot and enjoy being around people that make me laugh. I have no wit, but I can certainly laugh at yours! I am the perfect sidekick companion. ..unless of course you aren't funny then I can't help you much.
I laughed through many of my university courses. I remember this intermediate statistics course I had to take for my economics major. Well, I met a guy Gerald and of course just walking towards him everyday would get the laughter going. He was used to seeing me all battered from my karate class as my arms were often black and blue from sparring. Or I would be limping because I did 1000 stairs in CAB and my legs didn't function as a unit and made me walk funny. He always got a kick out of that. So while waiting for class, we would get warmed up for my upcoming laughing fits. Gerald would always ask me if I would get through the class and I was literally scared to walk in there. This professor was the biggest goofball, and I would laugh so hard I had to bury my head under my purse. And Gerald didn't help by commenting here and there just as I was trying so desperately to regain composure. It seriously hurt! I could not stop laughing--the WHOLE term. I was so relieved when that class ended...I thought I was going to die.
Then there was the evening community recreation class I had. Six students and two professors--Laurel and Hardy. And who did I sit with but the wittiest girl around, Charlene Saunders! Oh.My.Goodness! She couldn't wait to get me going. Again, I just had to THINK about going to this 3-hr. class 1 evening a week, and I would get into hysterics--and Charlene knew it. But it was the 2 class clowns teaching us! They would sit there and argue with each other in front of the class and talk about the silliest things. I would literally have to zone out so as not to hear them and totally think of something different. In both these classes I would often be asked what was so funny and of course I couldn't respond as I was half dead in a triple roll laugh. Charlene elbowing me along. I needed tissue not for tears of sadness but because I laughed so hard. I practically needed oxygen.
I did the same thing as a cashier trainer at superstore, and pretty much every adult seminar I have ever gone to. Just takes one person to do something funny and I am done. I have to zone out or give into hysteria.
But THE most embarrassing situation where I had a laughing fit, was at my mother's casket viewing. Can you imagine??!! It all started when Andrew and Tracey brought something to put in mom's casket and we are leaning over her all in tears our faces a mess from so much crying, and she looks blueish and not that great and they put these pictures and things there. We then proceeded to go sit so that people could offer us their condolences. Well, I got going on how I didn't bring stuff so now I was lesser than them... and we were done for. I had the 3 of us laughing the WHOLE time. People were coming up to us in tears and we were in laughing fits! Then I remember my cousin Karen saying she looks so beautiful and had a sparkly dress on and I thought WHAT!!?? She doesn't look good at all and the sparkly stuff is what they wrap the skin in to keep it tight (or so I was told). Well, that just started another 10 min. of laughter. I was supposed to be crying, not laughing my head off while people came to the viewing. They could HEAR me! I am sure they thought I was delusional and this was all just too much for me and I had lost my mind and made my siblings lose theirs too.
I laughed through many of my university courses. I remember this intermediate statistics course I had to take for my economics major. Well, I met a guy Gerald and of course just walking towards him everyday would get the laughter going. He was used to seeing me all battered from my karate class as my arms were often black and blue from sparring. Or I would be limping because I did 1000 stairs in CAB and my legs didn't function as a unit and made me walk funny. He always got a kick out of that. So while waiting for class, we would get warmed up for my upcoming laughing fits. Gerald would always ask me if I would get through the class and I was literally scared to walk in there. This professor was the biggest goofball, and I would laugh so hard I had to bury my head under my purse. And Gerald didn't help by commenting here and there just as I was trying so desperately to regain composure. It seriously hurt! I could not stop laughing--the WHOLE term. I was so relieved when that class ended...I thought I was going to die.
Then there was the evening community recreation class I had. Six students and two professors--Laurel and Hardy. And who did I sit with but the wittiest girl around, Charlene Saunders! Oh.My.Goodness! She couldn't wait to get me going. Again, I just had to THINK about going to this 3-hr. class 1 evening a week, and I would get into hysterics--and Charlene knew it. But it was the 2 class clowns teaching us! They would sit there and argue with each other in front of the class and talk about the silliest things. I would literally have to zone out so as not to hear them and totally think of something different. In both these classes I would often be asked what was so funny and of course I couldn't respond as I was half dead in a triple roll laugh. Charlene elbowing me along. I needed tissue not for tears of sadness but because I laughed so hard. I practically needed oxygen.
I did the same thing as a cashier trainer at superstore, and pretty much every adult seminar I have ever gone to. Just takes one person to do something funny and I am done. I have to zone out or give into hysteria.
But THE most embarrassing situation where I had a laughing fit, was at my mother's casket viewing. Can you imagine??!! It all started when Andrew and Tracey brought something to put in mom's casket and we are leaning over her all in tears our faces a mess from so much crying, and she looks blueish and not that great and they put these pictures and things there. We then proceeded to go sit so that people could offer us their condolences. Well, I got going on how I didn't bring stuff so now I was lesser than them... and we were done for. I had the 3 of us laughing the WHOLE time. People were coming up to us in tears and we were in laughing fits! Then I remember my cousin Karen saying she looks so beautiful and had a sparkly dress on and I thought WHAT!!?? She doesn't look good at all and the sparkly stuff is what they wrap the skin in to keep it tight (or so I was told). Well, that just started another 10 min. of laughter. I was supposed to be crying, not laughing my head off while people came to the viewing. They could HEAR me! I am sure they thought I was delusional and this was all just too much for me and I had lost my mind and made my siblings lose theirs too.
The Story I don't Get
This one really has evaded my comprehension. The final years when my mother was sick I was quite frustrated. The brunt of her illness and aid was put on me. I didn't want it! I wanted a mother, not to BE a mother. So I used to come home to grandmas angry after I dealt with her doing something or another and I would imagine the day I would come home from work and all the cars would be in the driveway and grandpa would tell me that my mother had died. Then I would cry and cry for thinking such a horrible thought. Its just that I was so tired of dealing with her illness and the doctors and her sporadic tendancies and everyone relied on me for everything. First I had my childhood taken away, and now I was getting my teen years and early adult years taken away too. I was not happy with God! There were some good times in there and remarkably I laughed alot through this time, but the burden was there. I didn't talk about my life much. It was much too embarrasing and complicated so few knew what I had going on. Mental illness is not exactly acceptable like cancer or diabetes.
Many times did I repeat this thought process of how I would hear the news of my mother's death. I would never know how or why she died, I would just envision how I would hear the news, and then cry and feel guilty for thinking it. Well, the day finally came. The day I put that quarter into my pant pockets and drove home to grandmas. As I drove down the long driveway, I noticed everyone's cars were there. As I parked the car, I saw my grandpa looking out the window. As I got out of the car and walked into the house, I saw everyone in the kitchen and no one was even breathing. My grandpa took me into the family room and told me my mom died last night. I shrieked. I caused it! I had played this exact scenario over and over again in my mind and this time it was real! What on earth had I done! The guilt was unbelievable. Did I cause my mother's death by envisioning this? As my friend Patti and I used to say all the time to only laugh after, 'I don't get it'...only this time, I wasn't laughing.
Many times did I repeat this thought process of how I would hear the news of my mother's death. I would never know how or why she died, I would just envision how I would hear the news, and then cry and feel guilty for thinking it. Well, the day finally came. The day I put that quarter into my pant pockets and drove home to grandmas. As I drove down the long driveway, I noticed everyone's cars were there. As I parked the car, I saw my grandpa looking out the window. As I got out of the car and walked into the house, I saw everyone in the kitchen and no one was even breathing. My grandpa took me into the family room and told me my mom died last night. I shrieked. I caused it! I had played this exact scenario over and over again in my mind and this time it was real! What on earth had I done! The guilt was unbelievable. Did I cause my mother's death by envisioning this? As my friend Patti and I used to say all the time to only laugh after, 'I don't get it'...only this time, I wasn't laughing.
Religion vs. Relationship With God
The more I write, the more ideas I get. All of them come from personal experiences. This particular one really shocked me. You see, I moved to a province that wasn't protestant and catholic like Alberta, but rather Christian or Non-Christian. Christian schools were private and fees were charged. But what I really noticed was the people. They were very dogmatic with their approach to God whereas I was much more pragmatic. I had a hard time 'getting' their way. But I tried. Everything was based on scripture...yet I saw very little evidence of anything resembling Godly behavior and love. I am very spiritual. I have talked to God since I was a wee girl as He was my only friend during all my years of abuse and struggle. I have a very intimate and spiritual relationship with God--yet I can't quote any verses of scripture!
With this difference, I felt like an outsider for all my time spent on the island. Never did I feel the Jesus love that they were all reading about. Heeeelllloooo...anybody actually getting what you are reading here??? I would do some bible studies with them and see so little spirituality in them. I was insanely bored as we read this or that as no one seemed to get to the fruit of the matter. Perhaps I am missing something, but I must say, I detest religion per se. It is not my way...I am not one to go with rules and religion is full of rules as are those who follow it.
Here is an example. Our contractor was part of the Christian Homeschoolers Group. I thought it would be nice to get to meet his wife, so I set up a visit. They had a beautiful piece of property. She greeted me outside with her three beautiful, long-haired daughters. They showed us around outside and of course she started asking me about my Christianity and I said we don't go to church, but that I was a firm believer in God as He has had such an impact on my life. But I did say I would be interested in finding a nice church with homeschooling families. She proceeded to tell me that her church would be way above me as I was a 'baby christian' and I wouldn't understand it. Say what? What won't I understand? I was flabbergasted. Why on earth was I trying to befriend these people who obviously didn't want to be befriended because I wasn't an 'adult-enough-Christian' for them!!
After hearing this, she started guiding us back to the van. I thought that was rather brief, not even a tour of the house, but I could tell I was not welcome. So with a polite smile, she said good-bye. Well, Kara had other ideas being around 1 years old and wanting to nurse. After about 20 min. of nursing Kara in the van, she came out and said she had some cantelope for us and we could come inside and eat it. OK. So we all leave the van, me and the kids, and go inside. She then has her 3 daughters perform the violin, piano and harp for us. It was superb. I noticed 2 pianos. I asked about the one electric and she said they were giving it away and did I want it. Ahhhh....now I know why God brought me over to this woman's house--it wasn't to make a friend, but to get a piano! Gotta love how He works! He is simple--he is not complicated and you don't need to memorize scripture to have a relationship with him. I am not saying that is wrong, but what I am saying is that this group of Islanders were missing the bigger picture completely.
So we loaded up our new piano and Kyle started lessons the next day as I had found out their was a piano teacher right around the corner! He is a natural and although we have not practiced for awhile, we are now starting up again. As I was planning on writing this, God put the book Never Lonely into my hands by Joseph Girzone which is a sequal to Joshua which I got at a used book store years ago and loved. RIght in the first chapter, it discusses this exact issue! How uncanny is that! Again, just God working with me. Its dark as I type so I can't quote, but I will add a couple quotes soon that fit right into this. I used to think that I was the one that didn't have it right...but more and more I am rethinking that and feeling blessed that I in fact have that spirituality that so many Christians lack. He comments in the book that no amount of going to church or participating in church activities can make you spiritual. I am starting to see more and more what my gift in life is. I never thought I had one and would always yell at God for not giving me a purpose and leaving me to feel disconnected. But He knew I just needed more life experiences under my belt before He could unveil his purposes to me.
Reminds me of when I took my life insurance course and we each had to write a one page paper on how we would make a life insurance sale. The next day we went around the room and everyone talked of all their credentials and yadayada...zzzzzz...boring!! I mean life insurance is boring enough!! Then it was MY TURN! Being different, I had chosen to write about REAL LIFE EXPERIENCE...as I do now. I said a heartfelt story of how my mother died unexpectantly at age 43 and I didn't have a father (that is what I used to say), and how she left 3 children with no money because she had no life insurance. Had she had some, I wouldn't have to be sitting here today trying to sell it!! Well, I WON! She chose mine as the best. I beat out all the high marked people with my heartfelt, real life response. And, I actually used that all the time to sell insurance and was one policy away from getting the Lamplighter Award which they hadn't given to a Canadian for many years. You had to sell 12 life insurance policies in a year--I sold 11. That was along with the home and auto quotos I had and I did win both the home and the auto for Top Canadian Sales Rookie of the year...just had to throw that in there for my ego!!
The point of the story is clear. You don't have to be so theoretical about God. You can just embrace what he does in your life and have a relationship with him that isn't so complicated. Works for me anyways.
With this difference, I felt like an outsider for all my time spent on the island. Never did I feel the Jesus love that they were all reading about. Heeeelllloooo...anybody actually getting what you are reading here??? I would do some bible studies with them and see so little spirituality in them. I was insanely bored as we read this or that as no one seemed to get to the fruit of the matter. Perhaps I am missing something, but I must say, I detest religion per se. It is not my way...I am not one to go with rules and religion is full of rules as are those who follow it.
Here is an example. Our contractor was part of the Christian Homeschoolers Group. I thought it would be nice to get to meet his wife, so I set up a visit. They had a beautiful piece of property. She greeted me outside with her three beautiful, long-haired daughters. They showed us around outside and of course she started asking me about my Christianity and I said we don't go to church, but that I was a firm believer in God as He has had such an impact on my life. But I did say I would be interested in finding a nice church with homeschooling families. She proceeded to tell me that her church would be way above me as I was a 'baby christian' and I wouldn't understand it. Say what? What won't I understand? I was flabbergasted. Why on earth was I trying to befriend these people who obviously didn't want to be befriended because I wasn't an 'adult-enough-Christian' for them!!
After hearing this, she started guiding us back to the van. I thought that was rather brief, not even a tour of the house, but I could tell I was not welcome. So with a polite smile, she said good-bye. Well, Kara had other ideas being around 1 years old and wanting to nurse. After about 20 min. of nursing Kara in the van, she came out and said she had some cantelope for us and we could come inside and eat it. OK. So we all leave the van, me and the kids, and go inside. She then has her 3 daughters perform the violin, piano and harp for us. It was superb. I noticed 2 pianos. I asked about the one electric and she said they were giving it away and did I want it. Ahhhh....now I know why God brought me over to this woman's house--it wasn't to make a friend, but to get a piano! Gotta love how He works! He is simple--he is not complicated and you don't need to memorize scripture to have a relationship with him. I am not saying that is wrong, but what I am saying is that this group of Islanders were missing the bigger picture completely.
So we loaded up our new piano and Kyle started lessons the next day as I had found out their was a piano teacher right around the corner! He is a natural and although we have not practiced for awhile, we are now starting up again. As I was planning on writing this, God put the book Never Lonely into my hands by Joseph Girzone which is a sequal to Joshua which I got at a used book store years ago and loved. RIght in the first chapter, it discusses this exact issue! How uncanny is that! Again, just God working with me. Its dark as I type so I can't quote, but I will add a couple quotes soon that fit right into this. I used to think that I was the one that didn't have it right...but more and more I am rethinking that and feeling blessed that I in fact have that spirituality that so many Christians lack. He comments in the book that no amount of going to church or participating in church activities can make you spiritual. I am starting to see more and more what my gift in life is. I never thought I had one and would always yell at God for not giving me a purpose and leaving me to feel disconnected. But He knew I just needed more life experiences under my belt before He could unveil his purposes to me.
Reminds me of when I took my life insurance course and we each had to write a one page paper on how we would make a life insurance sale. The next day we went around the room and everyone talked of all their credentials and yadayada...zzzzzz...boring!! I mean life insurance is boring enough!! Then it was MY TURN! Being different, I had chosen to write about REAL LIFE EXPERIENCE...as I do now. I said a heartfelt story of how my mother died unexpectantly at age 43 and I didn't have a father (that is what I used to say), and how she left 3 children with no money because she had no life insurance. Had she had some, I wouldn't have to be sitting here today trying to sell it!! Well, I WON! She chose mine as the best. I beat out all the high marked people with my heartfelt, real life response. And, I actually used that all the time to sell insurance and was one policy away from getting the Lamplighter Award which they hadn't given to a Canadian for many years. You had to sell 12 life insurance policies in a year--I sold 11. That was along with the home and auto quotos I had and I did win both the home and the auto for Top Canadian Sales Rookie of the year...just had to throw that in there for my ego!!
The point of the story is clear. You don't have to be so theoretical about God. You can just embrace what he does in your life and have a relationship with him that isn't so complicated. Works for me anyways.
God as Humorist and Strategist
When I look at many of my life experiences, I see that God has quite a sense of humor as well as a hand in everything. I never wanted to have kids because I wasn't very crafty and I didn't want them to have the worst looking halloween costumes. Yup, good reason for not having kids!! So eventually, I caved into my greatest fear (good grief!), and got pregnant hoping somehow I would manage. Guess what my due date was??? October 31st!!! HA HA HA! Very funny God! Of course I refuse to birth that day, so I waited until Nov. 4th. Nice try!
Then there was this overwhelming desire to have twins. I thought, what a bond to have. I never got twins, but God felt bad so he gave me 2 two boys who are constantly asked if they are twins. So much so that when someone asked them one day if they were brothers, they both said no! Then they had to pause and think about that one!
For years I struggled with my relationship with my sister. So what day was my 3rd child born on?? You guessed it! My sister's birthday. I reckon he figured that perhaps that would help bond us. Eventually we worked it out, but it is great that they share the same birthday.
I always wanted to drive my uncle's jeep one day. Eventually I ended up moving in with my grandma and got to drive the jeep to university. So God gave me what I wanted. BUT, he couldn't tame Herbie the jeep! This jeep had a mind of its own! If I got near it, I would drop and break something (I remember a bottle of juice once). It stalled all the time, at night it would play games and have the headlights flash on and off. Then there was the day the brakes went. Oddly enough, it was a day I witnessed a truck running a red light and hitting a car and SMASH! Like his brakes didn't work. I had made it to University and back that day riding the clutch with my foot shaking like crazy. AFter seeing that accident I came home, gave my grandma the keys, and never drove the thing again. Herbie the jeep won! Apparently, it didn't like me and I gave up! God probably laughed the whole time.
Then I was obsessed with not having fat kids. So I asked God please don't let my kids be fat. So God gave me one that can't gain weight. HAHAHA! NOT very funny. One MUST watch what they ask for. Next time I will be much more specific and say healthy weight...
And God loves to see me squirm because he gives me many challenges. When I thought living a life of abuse for the 1st 14 years should be enough, he goes and makes my mother sick for 9 years then takes her home. So I figured, NOW I have done my time and the rest of my life will be a breeze. I guess I got to cocky, because God snapped his fingers and voila, child with a challenge. Again NOT very funny. By this point I am having some pretty choice conversations with God and his attitude. I told him he better smarten up as I really wanted to take a break already. Then he gives me this itch for variety which has me moving every 1.5 yrs...not only moving, but fixing up each house as we go!! Do you know how much WORK that is??? Then, as the human race goes insane and all house prices sky rocket, he allows us out of owning any home right when my boy is the most ill. Finally, after 10 yrs. I get my dream of living in a motorhome and now I don't want to anymore! So once again he delivered---but on his schedule and again just to sit back and laugh at me!! Now he is stranding me in a big city which he knows I don't like, and making me stay for the winter. I am truly NOT amused God:-)-!! Yup, he is ONE funny dude. Lord knows what is up his sleeve next!
Then there was this overwhelming desire to have twins. I thought, what a bond to have. I never got twins, but God felt bad so he gave me 2 two boys who are constantly asked if they are twins. So much so that when someone asked them one day if they were brothers, they both said no! Then they had to pause and think about that one!
For years I struggled with my relationship with my sister. So what day was my 3rd child born on?? You guessed it! My sister's birthday. I reckon he figured that perhaps that would help bond us. Eventually we worked it out, but it is great that they share the same birthday.
I always wanted to drive my uncle's jeep one day. Eventually I ended up moving in with my grandma and got to drive the jeep to university. So God gave me what I wanted. BUT, he couldn't tame Herbie the jeep! This jeep had a mind of its own! If I got near it, I would drop and break something (I remember a bottle of juice once). It stalled all the time, at night it would play games and have the headlights flash on and off. Then there was the day the brakes went. Oddly enough, it was a day I witnessed a truck running a red light and hitting a car and SMASH! Like his brakes didn't work. I had made it to University and back that day riding the clutch with my foot shaking like crazy. AFter seeing that accident I came home, gave my grandma the keys, and never drove the thing again. Herbie the jeep won! Apparently, it didn't like me and I gave up! God probably laughed the whole time.
Then I was obsessed with not having fat kids. So I asked God please don't let my kids be fat. So God gave me one that can't gain weight. HAHAHA! NOT very funny. One MUST watch what they ask for. Next time I will be much more specific and say healthy weight...
And God loves to see me squirm because he gives me many challenges. When I thought living a life of abuse for the 1st 14 years should be enough, he goes and makes my mother sick for 9 years then takes her home. So I figured, NOW I have done my time and the rest of my life will be a breeze. I guess I got to cocky, because God snapped his fingers and voila, child with a challenge. Again NOT very funny. By this point I am having some pretty choice conversations with God and his attitude. I told him he better smarten up as I really wanted to take a break already. Then he gives me this itch for variety which has me moving every 1.5 yrs...not only moving, but fixing up each house as we go!! Do you know how much WORK that is??? Then, as the human race goes insane and all house prices sky rocket, he allows us out of owning any home right when my boy is the most ill. Finally, after 10 yrs. I get my dream of living in a motorhome and now I don't want to anymore! So once again he delivered---but on his schedule and again just to sit back and laugh at me!! Now he is stranding me in a big city which he knows I don't like, and making me stay for the winter. I am truly NOT amused God:-)-!! Yup, he is ONE funny dude. Lord knows what is up his sleeve next!
Always Say I Love You
It was February 1991. I was in SUB at the U of A in the bookstore. I was looking at Valentines day cards and saw a really nice one I could buy my mom. At this point, I was so worn out caring for my mom, I barely wanted to buy her a card. So I put it back on the shelf and walked out. Something made me hesitate once I exited the store...I paused, thought about the $4.50 price tag as it was extra large and fancy...but then decided my mom was worth it. So I bought it and because she was living away...in Vegerville I believe, I mailed it. I wrote on there how special she was to me and how much I loved her..even though I didn’t really feel like it. She died suddenly and completely unexpectently on March 3rd of hyperthermia and I had not seen her again. I was 22 at the time.
That card was the last thing she ever got from me...and I was almost too cheap to buy and send it. After she died, it was found with her things...I don't think I could have cried more...sad that she was no longer here, and oh so grateful I spent $4.50.
That card was the last thing she ever got from me...and I was almost too cheap to buy and send it. After she died, it was found with her things...I don't think I could have cried more...sad that she was no longer here, and oh so grateful I spent $4.50.
An Angel Sent to Save Me
University. I never wanted to go, but grandma insisted. And since I was living with her, she had some input into what I did with my life. My mom and the stress of worrying about her made my studies and working and well, everything hard. I joined karate so I could at least have something I liked since I didn't like university and had no idea what I was doing there. I grew to love karate and excelled at it. But even with just joining karate, I was miserable. My life was a mess. My mom wore me out. I was living at Lister Hall at this time and I remember I won a karate tournament. I was so joyous I cried! It was the first positive thing I had ever done in my life! This was the start of healing for me. But it didn't come easy. I cried so much that night in my room and yet felt suicidal. I can't remember why, but I do remember that despite the medal, I was unhappy. So I seriously thought I would kill myself. You have to remember I was raised in an abusive home being told I was worthless and stupid everyday, and then trying to get through high school and university with a mother who became mentally ill due to the extreme, extreme physical and mental abuse she endured. So I had no mom or dad to be there for me and guide me through my teen years.
So, there I was in my room at Lister Hall really down. I decided that if i was going to kill myself, I was going to go to SUB and get a delicious cinnamon bun first. Thus, wiping the tears, off I went. I bumped into some karate people and a friend of theirs. I chatted briefly as I was aware that I had been crying and probably looked the part. Then proceeded to buy my bun and went back to my dorm room. I didn't feel like ending my life that night, so i thought I would wait. The NEXT morning, I proceeded to go to SUB for another cinnamon bun, when at the top of the stairs I met an angel.
Well, I didn’t know it would be my angel at the time, but boy was I in for a most joyous experience.
We both paused, said nothing for what seemed like eternity just staring into each others eyes, this warmness enveloping us as we soaked in each others presence, when finally we each kind of mumbled out, didn't I meet you yesterday. This was an absolute soul connection!!! We said so much before we even spoke! She decided to come back down with me and we talked. We talked, and talked and talked. We talked about 12 hours a day for two weeks. I have never had such a relationship in my life with a female, where we could look into each other's eyes, and know what the other was thinking. And LAUGH??? I have never laughed so much in my whole life as I did after meeting her. It was truly the most insane, weird experience I have ever had. We laughed, and laughed and laughed. She was the best therapy I could have ever gotten--and I had tried therapists only to tell them 'where to go'. I laughed away all thoughts of suicide and never thought that again. I was healing. She helped to heal me. We would finish each other's sentences and never really had to talk. We knew what the other was thinking. It was so uncanny, this ability, that we would end up in fits of laughter where ever we went together. It was so embarrassing.
For months and months this went on. We would laugh for hours for days and weeks and months on end. Our lives had been so similiar. Who else could laugh when you say, "oh ya, well if I dropped a glass in the kitchen and it broke, you could hear my dad get off the couch, stomp, stomp, stomp and I knew I was gonna get it bad!" We would share horror stories that most would sit shocked to hear, while we laughed through the whole thing. When they say laughter is the best medicine, it is undoubtedly truer than true! I will never forget God sending me that angel to not only save my life at that moment, but also to heal me so completely from all the hurt and pain in my life growing up in an abusive household. She disappeared out of my life a few years later, after her task was done, as friends tend to do, but I will never forget the power of love, the power of God and how the soul can be healed.
So, there I was in my room at Lister Hall really down. I decided that if i was going to kill myself, I was going to go to SUB and get a delicious cinnamon bun first. Thus, wiping the tears, off I went. I bumped into some karate people and a friend of theirs. I chatted briefly as I was aware that I had been crying and probably looked the part. Then proceeded to buy my bun and went back to my dorm room. I didn't feel like ending my life that night, so i thought I would wait. The NEXT morning, I proceeded to go to SUB for another cinnamon bun, when at the top of the stairs I met an angel.
Well, I didn’t know it would be my angel at the time, but boy was I in for a most joyous experience.
We both paused, said nothing for what seemed like eternity just staring into each others eyes, this warmness enveloping us as we soaked in each others presence, when finally we each kind of mumbled out, didn't I meet you yesterday. This was an absolute soul connection!!! We said so much before we even spoke! She decided to come back down with me and we talked. We talked, and talked and talked. We talked about 12 hours a day for two weeks. I have never had such a relationship in my life with a female, where we could look into each other's eyes, and know what the other was thinking. And LAUGH??? I have never laughed so much in my whole life as I did after meeting her. It was truly the most insane, weird experience I have ever had. We laughed, and laughed and laughed. She was the best therapy I could have ever gotten--and I had tried therapists only to tell them 'where to go'. I laughed away all thoughts of suicide and never thought that again. I was healing. She helped to heal me. We would finish each other's sentences and never really had to talk. We knew what the other was thinking. It was so uncanny, this ability, that we would end up in fits of laughter where ever we went together. It was so embarrassing.
For months and months this went on. We would laugh for hours for days and weeks and months on end. Our lives had been so similiar. Who else could laugh when you say, "oh ya, well if I dropped a glass in the kitchen and it broke, you could hear my dad get off the couch, stomp, stomp, stomp and I knew I was gonna get it bad!" We would share horror stories that most would sit shocked to hear, while we laughed through the whole thing. When they say laughter is the best medicine, it is undoubtedly truer than true! I will never forget God sending me that angel to not only save my life at that moment, but also to heal me so completely from all the hurt and pain in my life growing up in an abusive household. She disappeared out of my life a few years later, after her task was done, as friends tend to do, but I will never forget the power of love, the power of God and how the soul can be healed.
Cory's Story
This will have to be broken into several parts. When I first married Kevin, we both said no children. Well, after a trip to the US and visiting some caves, I saw the cutest triplets with red curly hair and their parents even had shirts that talked about triplets and right then and there I knew life was missing something. So I emailed back and forth a girl at work about having a 'Ryan' we would use as code as it was her son's name. The clincher was when she said, 'if you want to know what motherhood is like, just go ahead and have a Ryan'. So Kevin and I started talking about it and one night we were driving down Wye Road in Sherwood Park and I said, 'if we have a child what would we call it'. Now we had never discussed this prior, and it was just a way for me to warm him up to the idea...you know, continually talk about it! We agreed that on the count of 3, we would both blurt out a name. To our shock, on the count of 3, we BOTH said Cory! I remember us staring at each other in disbelief--and he was driving! Seriously mind-numbing!! Was this child completely planned or what! And we would name the child Cory if it was a girl or a boy. Well, perhaps that convinced Kevin, but, I got pregnant very quickly and was on my way.
However, something happened at about 4 mos. pregnant. I had a very disturbing dream. One of the very few that made me sit up in a sweat. In my dream, Cory was the size of my hand, lying in my palm on his tummy, and I could see his lower back (where he has all his pain today), was broken.
I worried the rest of the pregnancy! I was so scared it was a sign for something. So finally when he was born, he did have meconium so he was off to ICU, but after 2 days I got to take him home. All healthy. Now he was very colicky and was failure to thrive the first year, but I didn't think anything of it. He was delayed in speech and some language (as we partook in a 7 yr. U of A baby study where they followed his development), but again thought nothing of it. Then we moved to Vancouver Island when he just turned 5 and a year later he caught a cold and started limping and our current journey began. It wasn't until about 3 yrs into it that I remembered that dream...and wondered if it was a sign about his pain. THEN, I remembered another 'sit up' dream that I had (and I have only had 2 others). It was when we lived in Grand Forks and I was dreaming about something and Cory walked into my dream like a commercial warning and he started walking towards me as if I was the viewer and said, 'please help me my kidney's are failing' and passed out right in front of me. Again I awoke in a sweat. I realized that perhaps that was another sign to be aware of any meds. due to perhaps weak kidneys. Doctors probably think I am nuts, but between these dreams and my mom's death and all her meds., I am fairly terrified to put him on prescription meds.
Looking at some life stories though, later, it appears that they have already been written and I am living a life of simply filling in the blanks. So many 'coincidences'...so many things that are beyond our understanding and comprehension. Only as we progress in life, do we fill in all the pieces. Maybe when we are having particularily difficult times, it is GOd's way of saying, you are on the wrong track, wake up and try again. It all amazes me so and I truly walk a spiritual life filled with supernatural events.
However, something happened at about 4 mos. pregnant. I had a very disturbing dream. One of the very few that made me sit up in a sweat. In my dream, Cory was the size of my hand, lying in my palm on his tummy, and I could see his lower back (where he has all his pain today), was broken.
I worried the rest of the pregnancy! I was so scared it was a sign for something. So finally when he was born, he did have meconium so he was off to ICU, but after 2 days I got to take him home. All healthy. Now he was very colicky and was failure to thrive the first year, but I didn't think anything of it. He was delayed in speech and some language (as we partook in a 7 yr. U of A baby study where they followed his development), but again thought nothing of it. Then we moved to Vancouver Island when he just turned 5 and a year later he caught a cold and started limping and our current journey began. It wasn't until about 3 yrs into it that I remembered that dream...and wondered if it was a sign about his pain. THEN, I remembered another 'sit up' dream that I had (and I have only had 2 others). It was when we lived in Grand Forks and I was dreaming about something and Cory walked into my dream like a commercial warning and he started walking towards me as if I was the viewer and said, 'please help me my kidney's are failing' and passed out right in front of me. Again I awoke in a sweat. I realized that perhaps that was another sign to be aware of any meds. due to perhaps weak kidneys. Doctors probably think I am nuts, but between these dreams and my mom's death and all her meds., I am fairly terrified to put him on prescription meds.
Looking at some life stories though, later, it appears that they have already been written and I am living a life of simply filling in the blanks. So many 'coincidences'...so many things that are beyond our understanding and comprehension. Only as we progress in life, do we fill in all the pieces. Maybe when we are having particularily difficult times, it is GOd's way of saying, you are on the wrong track, wake up and try again. It all amazes me so and I truly walk a spiritual life filled with supernatural events.
Soulmates
We hear of the term but what truly does it mean? Do we only have one? I have heard of soul-gazing where you and your loved one can simply stare into each others eyes and 'talk'. Are we to wait to marry a soul mate...or are we to let God decide. Well, in my particular case, God one...soulmate left.
But who am I to argue with God? Although I have...many times. But of course I can't see the bigger picture as he can. Plus, I asked and God delivered. You see, after my mom died, I was quite sad and lonely. I have always been different than most and connected with just certain people. Never liking crowds or needing many friends, but delighting in a few loyal ones I could have deep conversations with. And after my mom died and I had recently broken up with who I thought my soul-mate was, I was obviously quite lonely. I knew it was not right to fight what could not be...but my heart still ached as I could talk, or so I thought, through small glances. Not sure why God gives us such pain, or shows us such deep love and longing and then takes it away. So on my 23 birthday, I sat on my grandmother's piano bench, and prior to blowing out the candles said, ok God, I am tired of being all alone and dating non-compatibles, PLEASE bring me someone who works with his hands (grandma told me that woodworkers were good guys as her brother was one), someone who drives an SUV (a novelty back then and I thought was WAY cool), rock climbs and mountain bikes. Little did I know God was going to deliver...
The VERY next day, I got a call from my best friend Sandy. She said she had pictures of a guy she wanted to bring over to my rental suite tomorrow (monday) to show me. I was stunned. Could God answer a request so fast? My friend NEVER called me up ( I always called her) and she never came over...so this was all very, very bizarre. Thus, she came monday after work with about 3 pictures of my current husband. Hmmm...dark hair and dark eyes, but I like light brown hair and blue eyes...But hey, can't argue with God, so she asked for permission to pass on my phone number to her workmate to pass on to him. I agreed. That saturday we had our first date. I found out, he drove a chevy blazer, was a cabinet maker and was a mountain bike and rock climbing fanatic. Was this really happening??? It seemed too perfect. He was very kind etc. Within months we moved in together renting a main floor suite on 106 st. and the rest is history.
Despite my lack of physical attraction, I did observe that he had many of my mom's qualities--he can sneeze 8x and my mom used to do the same. He had her hair color and her kindness. But unlike her, he lacked the ability to share compassion. One must watch what they ask for:)! It was a strange mix I would say, but God must have put us together for some reason. Perhaps we each tempered each other in certain ways. He is calm and his chinese sign says, placid, placid, placid. I am not so calm and can demonstrate all emotions quite well. Working on calmness. There have been many challenges in our marriage and it is no fairy tale wedding story or marriage. We have had few big fights however which is positive I would think. We generally get along very well. We have 3 amazing children together and are learning all the time the art of parenting. Children take your selfishness away and teach YOU how to behave and what is important! We have both made huge strides in our areas of weakness. I have always wished for a more compassionate type or book-worm type, but instead I got Tim the tool man tailor. With that comes jokes and fun. Seriousness is not a big part of our family. I am a big goof and can make my kids laugh even when they get big boo boos, and Kevin is always goofing around...both of us perhaps too much! We should really grow up.
So the question remains, if you ask for something, does God truly fulfill it and in addition to that, know what is better for you than you?
But who am I to argue with God? Although I have...many times. But of course I can't see the bigger picture as he can. Plus, I asked and God delivered. You see, after my mom died, I was quite sad and lonely. I have always been different than most and connected with just certain people. Never liking crowds or needing many friends, but delighting in a few loyal ones I could have deep conversations with. And after my mom died and I had recently broken up with who I thought my soul-mate was, I was obviously quite lonely. I knew it was not right to fight what could not be...but my heart still ached as I could talk, or so I thought, through small glances. Not sure why God gives us such pain, or shows us such deep love and longing and then takes it away. So on my 23 birthday, I sat on my grandmother's piano bench, and prior to blowing out the candles said, ok God, I am tired of being all alone and dating non-compatibles, PLEASE bring me someone who works with his hands (grandma told me that woodworkers were good guys as her brother was one), someone who drives an SUV (a novelty back then and I thought was WAY cool), rock climbs and mountain bikes. Little did I know God was going to deliver...
The VERY next day, I got a call from my best friend Sandy. She said she had pictures of a guy she wanted to bring over to my rental suite tomorrow (monday) to show me. I was stunned. Could God answer a request so fast? My friend NEVER called me up ( I always called her) and she never came over...so this was all very, very bizarre. Thus, she came monday after work with about 3 pictures of my current husband. Hmmm...dark hair and dark eyes, but I like light brown hair and blue eyes...But hey, can't argue with God, so she asked for permission to pass on my phone number to her workmate to pass on to him. I agreed. That saturday we had our first date. I found out, he drove a chevy blazer, was a cabinet maker and was a mountain bike and rock climbing fanatic. Was this really happening??? It seemed too perfect. He was very kind etc. Within months we moved in together renting a main floor suite on 106 st. and the rest is history.
Despite my lack of physical attraction, I did observe that he had many of my mom's qualities--he can sneeze 8x and my mom used to do the same. He had her hair color and her kindness. But unlike her, he lacked the ability to share compassion. One must watch what they ask for:)! It was a strange mix I would say, but God must have put us together for some reason. Perhaps we each tempered each other in certain ways. He is calm and his chinese sign says, placid, placid, placid. I am not so calm and can demonstrate all emotions quite well. Working on calmness. There have been many challenges in our marriage and it is no fairy tale wedding story or marriage. We have had few big fights however which is positive I would think. We generally get along very well. We have 3 amazing children together and are learning all the time the art of parenting. Children take your selfishness away and teach YOU how to behave and what is important! We have both made huge strides in our areas of weakness. I have always wished for a more compassionate type or book-worm type, but instead I got Tim the tool man tailor. With that comes jokes and fun. Seriousness is not a big part of our family. I am a big goof and can make my kids laugh even when they get big boo boos, and Kevin is always goofing around...both of us perhaps too much! We should really grow up.
So the question remains, if you ask for something, does God truly fulfill it and in addition to that, know what is better for you than you?
Forgiveness
How is it one decides when to forgive someone. The Amish are amazing at this as we all know from the fairly recent story about the man who came into their school and killed their children. It took me 21 years to forgive my father...but I finally did. I was simply ready. I had wanted to for a long time, but was missing one thing...an apology from him. An apology for beating my mom, an apology for beating us, an apology for all the emotional abuse, an apology for my messed up life it all left me with, an apology for ultimately the death of my mother.
I couldn't get over the thought that IF I did forgive him, I would be making a statement to my mother that I was OK that she was dead. And I just couldn't do it...I wanted to, but I simply couldn't. Until finally I was simply ready. Then the confirmation. The day after I decided that I was not in fact hurting my mother by forgiving my father. I bought a book at a garage sale called the Ten Commandments by Laura somebody. When I opened the book, I opened right to the page about the story of a girl, now in her 30's, who struggled with forgiving her father for all the evil he had caused in her life without ever getting the apology. Its amazing how much that apology really helps. But she did it anyway and she never did get an apology (nor have I yet in the 5 yrs of reconnecting). Her father ended up dying and she was SO happy that she forgave him. I seriously couldn't believe that I had opened this book right to this story at such a critical time in my life. It absolutely affirmed what I was about to do. It was a process of course with my aunt setting up the initial meeting after I just called him up one day.
This was someone who used to beat us all up! This was someone I feared more than anything! This was someone who scared me so much I would shake just seeing him drive home everyday from work, never knowing what I should be doing...not that it mattered because whatever it was, it was the wrong thing and he yelled, and yelled and criticized and called my stupid over and over and over again. But I survived the first meeting and we started talking on the phone sporadically. Ironically, it was right around the time my son started getting sick. And I must say, he has probably turned out to be my strongest support network!! It has taken time and has been a process, but he is the only person who actually calls to talk to the boys and wants to hear all the latest and really cares. Well, I do have a dear friend Jennifer that God put in my life...but that will be another discussion.
When I recently told my friend's mother briefly about my father and how I forgave him, she couldn't believe it. She said she couldn't do it. Kevin had a hard time with it too for a long time. I said it is what God wants. And it is part of the healing journey and I haven't regretted it for one minute. My dad had his own previous issues. My mother paid a dear price for it, and perhaps one day he will apologize, but I am not expecting it and we will continue to avoid any talk of the past unless he chooses. For now, I can appreciate a new relationship based on this forgiveness. I have no doubt that it is exactly what God wants for me...He reaffirmed it with the book and my turning right to that story before even buying it. We must all risk and learn to forgive. I lost my mother, and I forgave the man who led her there.
I couldn't get over the thought that IF I did forgive him, I would be making a statement to my mother that I was OK that she was dead. And I just couldn't do it...I wanted to, but I simply couldn't. Until finally I was simply ready. Then the confirmation. The day after I decided that I was not in fact hurting my mother by forgiving my father. I bought a book at a garage sale called the Ten Commandments by Laura somebody. When I opened the book, I opened right to the page about the story of a girl, now in her 30's, who struggled with forgiving her father for all the evil he had caused in her life without ever getting the apology. Its amazing how much that apology really helps. But she did it anyway and she never did get an apology (nor have I yet in the 5 yrs of reconnecting). Her father ended up dying and she was SO happy that she forgave him. I seriously couldn't believe that I had opened this book right to this story at such a critical time in my life. It absolutely affirmed what I was about to do. It was a process of course with my aunt setting up the initial meeting after I just called him up one day.
This was someone who used to beat us all up! This was someone I feared more than anything! This was someone who scared me so much I would shake just seeing him drive home everyday from work, never knowing what I should be doing...not that it mattered because whatever it was, it was the wrong thing and he yelled, and yelled and criticized and called my stupid over and over and over again. But I survived the first meeting and we started talking on the phone sporadically. Ironically, it was right around the time my son started getting sick. And I must say, he has probably turned out to be my strongest support network!! It has taken time and has been a process, but he is the only person who actually calls to talk to the boys and wants to hear all the latest and really cares. Well, I do have a dear friend Jennifer that God put in my life...but that will be another discussion.
When I recently told my friend's mother briefly about my father and how I forgave him, she couldn't believe it. She said she couldn't do it. Kevin had a hard time with it too for a long time. I said it is what God wants. And it is part of the healing journey and I haven't regretted it for one minute. My dad had his own previous issues. My mother paid a dear price for it, and perhaps one day he will apologize, but I am not expecting it and we will continue to avoid any talk of the past unless he chooses. For now, I can appreciate a new relationship based on this forgiveness. I have no doubt that it is exactly what God wants for me...He reaffirmed it with the book and my turning right to that story before even buying it. We must all risk and learn to forgive. I lost my mother, and I forgave the man who led her there.
First Aid Saves My Mom
When I got back from Quebec, my mother was not doing well. In fact, I wasn't home but 10 minutes, exhausted from the flight, disappointed that most the people I met from around Canada seemed to be heading to France or somewhere for the rest of the summer and I had to go back home to my nightmare. It was bad enough she was calling me from home. She tracked me down somehow in Quebec and even had the police search me out at a bar! She was so insistent that she talk to me that they found me and took me to the school so I could call her!! I was so embarrased. I left for 6 weeks to get away from her illness, but she followed me there, calling me constantly. The teachers were telling me I couldn't have her call anymore and my french wasn't good enough, nor my heart bold enough anyway, to tell them the truth.
So, after enduring all this, and catching a cold on the plane, I arrived at my grandmas only to be told by grandma that I must go immediately to my mom's place. That a police officer and Sean were there, but that she wanted me and that she was threatening to kill herself. Beyond anger, I left in my grandma's RX 7. I arrived at my mother's, walked over to her, took the 'weapon' out of her hand (letter opener), and dismissed the police officer. When he hesitated and said he had to ensure she would be safe I think I said a bad F word and told him that 3 of her friends just committed suicide and she was very upset. They were all on anti-depressants at the time. This led to concerns about her safety so she moved in with me and Andrew at Grandma's house.
Now to diverge slightly. I had decided to take a First Aid course. For no rhyme or reason. It was a weekend course. Friday evening, all day saturday and all day sunday. On friday night we learnt the ABC's of life rescue as well as Grand Mal and Petit Mal seizures. We did well, so he dismissed us 45 minutes early...
I drove straight home to grandma's house. As soon as I walked in the door, my grandparents came up to me and said my mom was not well. That she was like a zombie. She walked past me..yup, like a zombie. She walked past a few more times, and seemed quite out of it. I tried to talk to her, but she was on all her meds and was not really coherent. She was abnormally odd though. She went upstairs. I was conversing with grandma and grandpa about what to do when we heard this wailing sound. About 30 minutes had passed since I arrived home. I ran upstairs faster than superman could have and found my mother stiff as a board, balancing with her head on the night table angled down to the ground with her feet just balancing like that. She was having a grand mal seizure. Normally, I would not have just come back from a first aid course on a friday night...EARLY yet. My grandparents caught up to me. My grandma ran and got a popsicle stick after we determined her mouth was locked shut and she couldn't breath and blood was coming out. I told her no (they told us at first aid to never stick anything into someone's mouth while having a seizure). I told her to go call 911.
I had moved her to the floor and assessed for the ABC's. Airway, Breathing and Circulation. So, airway. Wasn't looking good as it was jammed shut. So I moved her neck upwards as they had just showed us in class. BINGO! She finally started breathing. She is still seizuring and her whole body is stiff and shaking. I could only wait knowing it would pass soon. When it was over, I then put her legs up at a 90 degree angle as I had to treat for shock. Luckily, I didn't have to do the B or C from my course. Her mouth was dripping blood as her jaw slammed down on her tongue absolutely mashing the perimeter of it. Her molars had imprinted on her tongue and it was seriously mangled. The paramedics arrived and took over. By this time, she had just come out of the seizure. It seemed like an eternity to me They seemed stunned at all that I had done and how calm I was. I told them I just learnt it all in a first aid course and that I would freak out soon enough. I then rode with her in the ambulance and spent the night there without sleep. I then finished the rest of my 16 hour course over the next two days. Trying to digest and comprehend what had happened and why I just 'happened' to be let out of a First Aid course I almost didn't take and how all that allowed me to save my mother's life...at least temporarily. As I waited for the paramedics, I gazed into her eyes, beyond sad and could 'see' her telling me that she didn't want to exist in this body any longer...not this way. She didn't know at the time that she didn't have much longer left.
So, after enduring all this, and catching a cold on the plane, I arrived at my grandmas only to be told by grandma that I must go immediately to my mom's place. That a police officer and Sean were there, but that she wanted me and that she was threatening to kill herself. Beyond anger, I left in my grandma's RX 7. I arrived at my mother's, walked over to her, took the 'weapon' out of her hand (letter opener), and dismissed the police officer. When he hesitated and said he had to ensure she would be safe I think I said a bad F word and told him that 3 of her friends just committed suicide and she was very upset. They were all on anti-depressants at the time. This led to concerns about her safety so she moved in with me and Andrew at Grandma's house.
Now to diverge slightly. I had decided to take a First Aid course. For no rhyme or reason. It was a weekend course. Friday evening, all day saturday and all day sunday. On friday night we learnt the ABC's of life rescue as well as Grand Mal and Petit Mal seizures. We did well, so he dismissed us 45 minutes early...
I drove straight home to grandma's house. As soon as I walked in the door, my grandparents came up to me and said my mom was not well. That she was like a zombie. She walked past me..yup, like a zombie. She walked past a few more times, and seemed quite out of it. I tried to talk to her, but she was on all her meds and was not really coherent. She was abnormally odd though. She went upstairs. I was conversing with grandma and grandpa about what to do when we heard this wailing sound. About 30 minutes had passed since I arrived home. I ran upstairs faster than superman could have and found my mother stiff as a board, balancing with her head on the night table angled down to the ground with her feet just balancing like that. She was having a grand mal seizure. Normally, I would not have just come back from a first aid course on a friday night...EARLY yet. My grandparents caught up to me. My grandma ran and got a popsicle stick after we determined her mouth was locked shut and she couldn't breath and blood was coming out. I told her no (they told us at first aid to never stick anything into someone's mouth while having a seizure). I told her to go call 911.
I had moved her to the floor and assessed for the ABC's. Airway, Breathing and Circulation. So, airway. Wasn't looking good as it was jammed shut. So I moved her neck upwards as they had just showed us in class. BINGO! She finally started breathing. She is still seizuring and her whole body is stiff and shaking. I could only wait knowing it would pass soon. When it was over, I then put her legs up at a 90 degree angle as I had to treat for shock. Luckily, I didn't have to do the B or C from my course. Her mouth was dripping blood as her jaw slammed down on her tongue absolutely mashing the perimeter of it. Her molars had imprinted on her tongue and it was seriously mangled. The paramedics arrived and took over. By this time, she had just come out of the seizure. It seemed like an eternity to me They seemed stunned at all that I had done and how calm I was. I told them I just learnt it all in a first aid course and that I would freak out soon enough. I then rode with her in the ambulance and spent the night there without sleep. I then finished the rest of my 16 hour course over the next two days. Trying to digest and comprehend what had happened and why I just 'happened' to be let out of a First Aid course I almost didn't take and how all that allowed me to save my mother's life...at least temporarily. As I waited for the paramedics, I gazed into her eyes, beyond sad and could 'see' her telling me that she didn't want to exist in this body any longer...not this way. She didn't know at the time that she didn't have much longer left.
The Quarter Connection
Years later, when I was married and about 34 (my mom died when she was 43 and I was 22), Kevin and I were renovating yet another house. It was something we never thought we would get into, but this was our 5th house. He was tearing apart the walls when he found an extremely scratched up, tarnished and damaged quarter. I need to back up. The people who we bought the house from had it payed off. Apparently he was an abusive alcoholic and they were divorcing. He had only had our payout monies for about a week when he was drinking and driving and killed himself on the Sherwood Park Freeway. Poof. Gone. It was eerie knowing that he was gone. The person we just bought our house from. Who finally had all this money and freedom from his wife. Was able to make such a mess of things. As humans, we are very good at this.
Back to the quarter. I took a close look at it. The year on it was 1943...the SAME year as the quarter I found the day of my mother's death. I had yet to attach meaning to the first quarter, but this find explained it all. I went to the sacred spot on my dresser where I kept my shooter glass, with a decorative 'rose' that i used once to put in my mothers hair (just prior to her death), and the first quarter. The shooter glass represented the alcoholism, the rose represented my mother, and the quarter still lacking significance. But not any longer. There was no lightening bolt feelings with this discovery, but it was intriguing none-the-less. And the year...1943. My mom was 43 when she died. It all made sense now.
The quarters, as you may have already figured out, represented my father. He threw them at me whenever I did a chore. The horrible shape of them symbolized my mother's abuse and his inner turmoil dealing with the death of both of his parents before he was 6 and a brother when he was only slightly older. The first quarter actually has a good size nick missing out of it. This represents all the torture my mother endured, both physical and emotional and perhaps the emotional pain that he endured leaving behind a very sad, unhealed man. His sadness becoming physical and he began taking it out on my mother. One heartache becoming two. He never healed. Every Christmas was the worst as he took out the funeral pictures of his brother Andy and cried. He would talk of not having any parents. Then the drinking, then the rampage.
The man of this house where I found the second very disfigured quarter, was also an abuser and was also an alcoholic. I am not sure why I found this second quarter. Maybe simply to allow me to figure out my ongoing life puzzle. I now have 2 quarters in my shot glass, with the rose. Now the whole Quebec experience took on a whole different meaning. What seemed as just a bizarre event at the time was hardly that at all! It was a complex symbolism of the intricate relationship between my mother and father. A story that continues to unfold as I put more and more pieces together. A story that helps to heal me and give me strength and understanding to our life on earth. That it is so unimportant compared to the bigger picture. That God is so much bigger than we can ever be. That God can communicate with us on earth through different means. That God can use these things to heal, and empower and build our trust and confidence in Him. I continue to be in awe of how God works in my life.
Oh, and of course, God is also a comedian and pays attention to details. The girl I was with at the phone in Quebec. Her name was Rose. “The Rose” was the song my mother listened to constantly. She would lie there and rock her head to that song. Of course now, if I ever hear that song, I am immediately brought to tears.
Back to the quarter. I took a close look at it. The year on it was 1943...the SAME year as the quarter I found the day of my mother's death. I had yet to attach meaning to the first quarter, but this find explained it all. I went to the sacred spot on my dresser where I kept my shooter glass, with a decorative 'rose' that i used once to put in my mothers hair (just prior to her death), and the first quarter. The shooter glass represented the alcoholism, the rose represented my mother, and the quarter still lacking significance. But not any longer. There was no lightening bolt feelings with this discovery, but it was intriguing none-the-less. And the year...1943. My mom was 43 when she died. It all made sense now.
The quarters, as you may have already figured out, represented my father. He threw them at me whenever I did a chore. The horrible shape of them symbolized my mother's abuse and his inner turmoil dealing with the death of both of his parents before he was 6 and a brother when he was only slightly older. The first quarter actually has a good size nick missing out of it. This represents all the torture my mother endured, both physical and emotional and perhaps the emotional pain that he endured leaving behind a very sad, unhealed man. His sadness becoming physical and he began taking it out on my mother. One heartache becoming two. He never healed. Every Christmas was the worst as he took out the funeral pictures of his brother Andy and cried. He would talk of not having any parents. Then the drinking, then the rampage.
The man of this house where I found the second very disfigured quarter, was also an abuser and was also an alcoholic. I am not sure why I found this second quarter. Maybe simply to allow me to figure out my ongoing life puzzle. I now have 2 quarters in my shot glass, with the rose. Now the whole Quebec experience took on a whole different meaning. What seemed as just a bizarre event at the time was hardly that at all! It was a complex symbolism of the intricate relationship between my mother and father. A story that continues to unfold as I put more and more pieces together. A story that helps to heal me and give me strength and understanding to our life on earth. That it is so unimportant compared to the bigger picture. That God is so much bigger than we can ever be. That God can communicate with us on earth through different means. That God can use these things to heal, and empower and build our trust and confidence in Him. I continue to be in awe of how God works in my life.
Oh, and of course, God is also a comedian and pays attention to details. The girl I was with at the phone in Quebec. Her name was Rose. “The Rose” was the song my mother listened to constantly. She would lie there and rock her head to that song. Of course now, if I ever hear that song, I am immediately brought to tears.
Quarters and Dimes Together...and a Paper Clip
Just prior to being off work for 6 weeks and finding that quarter, I had gone to Quebec on a bourse du Gouvernement. It was for 6 weeks. It was my time away from my life at home. My life of worry about my mother. Her depression. Her 'mental illness'. You see, after the divorce, no one really believed my mom's story about all the beatings and abuse. It was a very difficult time for her. My baby brother was only 8 mos. old at the time. It was Jan. 14th and my dad had been on the rampage again and almost killed her this time. When I awoke that morning and saw her completely black and blue rocking in her rocking chair with Andrew, I saw her spirit had died. Physically she was alive, but she was spiritually dead. This never improved. I was looking into empty eyes. A soul that simply could not endure anymore abuse, but was dead inside none the less. Her smiles were a thing of the past. She told me we were leaving. She said this many times before, but I knew this time she meant it. She planned for a brother-in-law to pick us up before my dad got home. I went to school that day and was to tell them I was not coming back. It happened very fast. We had to escape this way, as he always threatened to kill her and kept the keys from her and often forbid her from driving. Her small 90lb, 4'11 frame was no match for his 220lb, 6'3" build.
So, I was in Quebec as I had been dealing with the aftermath of years of her depression from all this. Life had been difficult. By this point, she was starting to have 'nervous breakdowns'. It was scary and embarassing for me. The family made a decision to put her in Alberta Mental Hospital. I got sent to Lister Hall Dorm at the U of A, my sister went to live with my aunt and uncle, and my brother went to my grandmas and the house was sold. The escape to Quebec was vital to my survival. At this time, I had left Lister Hall to live with my grandma, grandpa and brother. One day i was walking down the school halls with my friend Rose (whose name is significant and will be discussed later). We had 'sneaked' in as it was a Sunday and no one was allowed in the school on Sundays. But you see, Rose met a new french guy and wanted to call him with the pay phone, so I went along for a walk. We had to hide once as we heard a security guard in the other hallway whistling and walking doing his rounds. He never saw us. The floors were of course clean and glistening...except for a paperclip. Odd. Something possessed me to pick it up. Odder. Finally, we reached the phones. There were two of them. So off she went having her happy french conversation to her boyfriend. About 5 minutes into this, what appeared to be ,a very long conversation, I noticed something with the pay phone in front of me. It had dimes all jammed in the coin slot. Ah ha! Something to do! (you must realize that this is before I was ever finding dimes, and before I had any connections with the dimes. All of that came about 2 years later).
I thus starting picking out the dimes with my fingers. I got about 3 or 4, to see that there were still more jammed in there. I couldn't get anymore. Hmmm...wait a minute! I have a paper clip I thought to myself. So I uncoiled the paperclip and was able to get a few more out. I could still see more in there. I then decided to push them in with the paperclip...JACKPOT!!!! The pay phone became a slot machine!! I had never seen anything like it. Quarters came flying out of the machine! Hundreds of quarters! I thought for certain that security guard would come back with all the noise. Meanwhile, my friend Rose started screaming, "Oh mon Dieu, Oh mon Dieu", and relayed what was happening to her boyfriend. Then she started taking my quarters! Well, I guess I had plenty to share.
So, I was in Quebec as I had been dealing with the aftermath of years of her depression from all this. Life had been difficult. By this point, she was starting to have 'nervous breakdowns'. It was scary and embarassing for me. The family made a decision to put her in Alberta Mental Hospital. I got sent to Lister Hall Dorm at the U of A, my sister went to live with my aunt and uncle, and my brother went to my grandmas and the house was sold. The escape to Quebec was vital to my survival. At this time, I had left Lister Hall to live with my grandma, grandpa and brother. One day i was walking down the school halls with my friend Rose (whose name is significant and will be discussed later). We had 'sneaked' in as it was a Sunday and no one was allowed in the school on Sundays. But you see, Rose met a new french guy and wanted to call him with the pay phone, so I went along for a walk. We had to hide once as we heard a security guard in the other hallway whistling and walking doing his rounds. He never saw us. The floors were of course clean and glistening...except for a paperclip. Odd. Something possessed me to pick it up. Odder. Finally, we reached the phones. There were two of them. So off she went having her happy french conversation to her boyfriend. About 5 minutes into this, what appeared to be ,a very long conversation, I noticed something with the pay phone in front of me. It had dimes all jammed in the coin slot. Ah ha! Something to do! (you must realize that this is before I was ever finding dimes, and before I had any connections with the dimes. All of that came about 2 years later).
I thus starting picking out the dimes with my fingers. I got about 3 or 4, to see that there were still more jammed in there. I couldn't get anymore. Hmmm...wait a minute! I have a paper clip I thought to myself. So I uncoiled the paperclip and was able to get a few more out. I could still see more in there. I then decided to push them in with the paperclip...JACKPOT!!!! The pay phone became a slot machine!! I had never seen anything like it. Quarters came flying out of the machine! Hundreds of quarters! I thought for certain that security guard would come back with all the noise. Meanwhile, my friend Rose started screaming, "Oh mon Dieu, Oh mon Dieu", and relayed what was happening to her boyfriend. Then she started taking my quarters! Well, I guess I had plenty to share.
The Beaten up Quarter-What Does it Mean?
Yes, I have a quarter story along with my dime story. It all started as a child as I grew up in an abusive, alcoholic environment. My dad screamed constantly and used my mom as a punching bag...but that is a different story. This story focuses on the '2-bits' my dad used to pay me to clean the house...only I thought 2-bits meant 2 dollars, but he only ever threw quarters at me. Yes, THREW. It was his way. Derogatory and humiliating. I would empty ashtrays and he would throw two-bits on the floor. I would wash walls or rake the carpet and he would again throw two-bits at me. It was the way.
Well, when I was fourteen, my mom finally took us out of there after an almost deadly beating. No more two-bits for me. Fast forward 9 yrs. It was a 'normal' day at my job at Superstore. I JUST got back from being away for 6 weeks due to a back injury I had, so the supervisors were quite unhappy with all my time off. I was on lane 25 which is an express lane. It was a busy sunday morning. One of my customers paid me with change and I noticed a very beaten up, almost black quarter. I had to have it....I had never bought a quarter in the last 7 yrs. of working there, but right then and there, I showed him how I was swapping the quarter in my pants for his beaten up quarter. He probably had no idea why on earth I would want it...it was just something about it. The day went on normally and I finished my 9-1 shift. I drove home to my grandma's where I was living at the time only to see a scene I had only once imagined (that is a different story). All was eerie. My grandfather was peeking through the door window waiting for me. I was uneasy, my stomach was turning as I had seen this scene before. I knew what was happening. He led me past the kitchen where all my family stood, staring at me. It was completely quiet...until my grandpa told me what I knew he was going to tell me...my mother had died last night. My life just changed forever and I wailed on and off for months.
Well, when I was fourteen, my mom finally took us out of there after an almost deadly beating. No more two-bits for me. Fast forward 9 yrs. It was a 'normal' day at my job at Superstore. I JUST got back from being away for 6 weeks due to a back injury I had, so the supervisors were quite unhappy with all my time off. I was on lane 25 which is an express lane. It was a busy sunday morning. One of my customers paid me with change and I noticed a very beaten up, almost black quarter. I had to have it....I had never bought a quarter in the last 7 yrs. of working there, but right then and there, I showed him how I was swapping the quarter in my pants for his beaten up quarter. He probably had no idea why on earth I would want it...it was just something about it. The day went on normally and I finished my 9-1 shift. I drove home to my grandma's where I was living at the time only to see a scene I had only once imagined (that is a different story). All was eerie. My grandfather was peeking through the door window waiting for me. I was uneasy, my stomach was turning as I had seen this scene before. I knew what was happening. He led me past the kitchen where all my family stood, staring at me. It was completely quiet...until my grandpa told me what I knew he was going to tell me...my mother had died last night. My life just changed forever and I wailed on and off for months.
Dimes from Heaven
A friend who I cherish is the first other real human being who I know that finds dimes. She lead me to a website and I have just today discovered that it IS in fact something people find when a loved one dies. For me, the first other story was when a friend did an assignment on me for her journalism class (and got the highest mark!) and pointed out the book, Hello from Heaven and there was ONE other dime story in there about it. Here is my story...
You see, my mom had a hard life and was beaten and died at age 43. 5 yrs before she died, I turned 18. Because the local ALCB or provincial liquor board was on strike, she went to this special Andrew Wolf Winery to get me a bottle of wine. It said,"from baby bottle, to pop bottle, to wine bottle, Happy 18th birthday". Well, I HAD to keep it and all that fit in there were dimes. I found no dimes until she died 5 yrs. later. For 8 mos. I was finding 4 dimes at least/wk.!! But I was grieving and not thinking about it. But it did drive me bonkers!!! I was also 'talking' with my mom EVERY night during my dreams--like one on one. THEN, one day I had a fight with a boyfriend and stomped out of his house when 'something' made me bend down and it was night and I put my hand about a foot into the snow in front of my grandma's RX7 I was driving, and pulled out a dime that was on its vertical edge!!! Like a magician!! By this point, I was approaching 300 dimes. I ran back to the boyfriend I had been so mad at moments b4, as he was aware of these findings, and was literally shaking. I drove home beyond words, confused, yet thrilled. I went to put the dime in the wine bottle as I had all the others when I felt this wierd, white lightish, joltish feeling...and then...it ALL made sense. I FINALLY realized it was my mother. I fell onto my bed in disbelief, called my boyfriend telling him what I learnt and was baffled. I was scared that now that I figured it out, I wouldn't find them anymore. Well, 2 things happened, I stopped finding 4 a week and went down to 1/wk for about 17 yrs, and now I find maybe 2/mo and sometimes more but never really any less. Next year will be the 20th year--which also happens to be the year I turn 43--the same age my mom was when she died.
I have found close to 2000 dimes in absolutely crazy places. But the 2 things that stopped happening was 1. my nightly 'dreams/convos' stopped and I found less. I no longer was communicating nightly. It was like she figured I was finally ok and could move on. I have told only about 10 people about this, and now my closest friends and siblings find them too. The most recent was my sister's daughter when she had to get her appendix out--she found 2 that day!! But, I had no idea that they are something some people who have dealt with a death had been finding and were so confused about it, as for me, it was so obvious. I just found this website today that discussed it as per a link from my friend, and realized many still haven't figured it out and are simply 'guessing' it is their loved one who has passed on.
I just posted my most recent dime finding on my FB page with a picture of me. I have SO much more to say, but this is alot already. So many crazy stories...and I find dimes when I am really sad, or scared or extra happy. Generally, there is something 'extra' going on in my life when I find them--either good or bad. Oh, and when I travelled to Europe, I would find dimes in each countries particular currency. Same when I travel to the US, I find US dimes. Blows.my.mind.!!!
You see, my mom had a hard life and was beaten and died at age 43. 5 yrs before she died, I turned 18. Because the local ALCB or provincial liquor board was on strike, she went to this special Andrew Wolf Winery to get me a bottle of wine. It said,"from baby bottle, to pop bottle, to wine bottle, Happy 18th birthday". Well, I HAD to keep it and all that fit in there were dimes. I found no dimes until she died 5 yrs. later. For 8 mos. I was finding 4 dimes at least/wk.!! But I was grieving and not thinking about it. But it did drive me bonkers!!! I was also 'talking' with my mom EVERY night during my dreams--like one on one. THEN, one day I had a fight with a boyfriend and stomped out of his house when 'something' made me bend down and it was night and I put my hand about a foot into the snow in front of my grandma's RX7 I was driving, and pulled out a dime that was on its vertical edge!!! Like a magician!! By this point, I was approaching 300 dimes. I ran back to the boyfriend I had been so mad at moments b4, as he was aware of these findings, and was literally shaking. I drove home beyond words, confused, yet thrilled. I went to put the dime in the wine bottle as I had all the others when I felt this wierd, white lightish, joltish feeling...and then...it ALL made sense. I FINALLY realized it was my mother. I fell onto my bed in disbelief, called my boyfriend telling him what I learnt and was baffled. I was scared that now that I figured it out, I wouldn't find them anymore. Well, 2 things happened, I stopped finding 4 a week and went down to 1/wk for about 17 yrs, and now I find maybe 2/mo and sometimes more but never really any less. Next year will be the 20th year--which also happens to be the year I turn 43--the same age my mom was when she died.
I have found close to 2000 dimes in absolutely crazy places. But the 2 things that stopped happening was 1. my nightly 'dreams/convos' stopped and I found less. I no longer was communicating nightly. It was like she figured I was finally ok and could move on. I have told only about 10 people about this, and now my closest friends and siblings find them too. The most recent was my sister's daughter when she had to get her appendix out--she found 2 that day!! But, I had no idea that they are something some people who have dealt with a death had been finding and were so confused about it, as for me, it was so obvious. I just found this website today that discussed it as per a link from my friend, and realized many still haven't figured it out and are simply 'guessing' it is their loved one who has passed on.
I just posted my most recent dime finding on my FB page with a picture of me. I have SO much more to say, but this is alot already. So many crazy stories...and I find dimes when I am really sad, or scared or extra happy. Generally, there is something 'extra' going on in my life when I find them--either good or bad. Oh, and when I travelled to Europe, I would find dimes in each countries particular currency. Same when I travel to the US, I find US dimes. Blows.my.mind.!!!
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