My Best Girl Friend...

I have always viewed friends as an extension of oneself; Patsy is such a good friend to me that she is actually a part of me. I have had the privilege of knowing and being a part of her life since early elementary school. That is to say this poor girl has known me / put up with me her entire life. Pasty is a rare bird, she beats to the sound of her own unique drum. I quite like the music she plays. Never one to really care about the “in crowd” or what others thought of her, she just forged through life with an incredible mission to attain her goals. Growing up with Patsy was a lot of fun, her energy wow, A LOT of energy! (ha ha). Although we got into mischief she always carried the responsibility of making sure we were alright. She drove every where, always made sure we were never too intoxicated and made sure we had a shirt on our back (oh even if she had to literally give you hers).

She was there for me for my 1st heart break right through until my 14^th. Patsy could tell a guy off in such a way that he would walk away with a new torn ass hole and thank her out of fear of further damage. She once threw rocks at a brand spanking new Trans Am, because she knew the guy who was picking me up in it was an ass… (oh the look on his face, hahaha).  When he yelled at her, she proudly stood in my driveway and yelled “Fuck You,” to him. There were countless times in my life that I can tell you where she was with me , right be behind, beside me and even in front of me softening the blows…. Patsy has just always had the ability to see what was best for me, even when I didn’t.

In elementary school and in high school there were times when I know she struggled with people, or situations and I never really knew how she had the strength to deal with or stand up to people. Or the strength to ride her bike so fast around Tecumseh to avoid being beat up by KB the summer going into grade 9. hahaha. Life may have been tough for her but she radiated with a beautiful smile through the worst of it. Being the oldest child in her family she had a lot to deal with, 2 younger brothers I might add. But she never took shit from either one, in fact I first hand witnessed many of times those boys crying after she pulverized them. An occasional throw down the stairs is what every little pain in the ass brother needs!

As life moved forward and we grew up, I married and moved away. Unfortunately I failed as a friend. I lost contact with her. Yes she was there when I married, and when the kids were born, but I wasn’t there for her. I wish I could turn back time and see her as often as I do now. So, Patsy today; is an incredible mom, a single mom in fact and truth be told she ROCKS! I admire her strength and her ability to keep her own. I am proud of her. She has grown into a role that not many could handle. She is mom and dad, friend and guardian to 2 of the most amazing little creatures I have ever met. Her children are loved and cared for with a force of ten men! Being selfless comes natural to her. I see it when I watch her with her children. I am so proud of her.

My oldest daughter Ashley is a French student, needing community hours for graduation she offered to tutor one of Patsy’s’ girls everyday after school. So each day after school Patsy and her chicklettes arrive at my house and we visit, while Ashley and Sloan are doing homework. It seems to me that Patsy has never left my side, like she has always been right here beside me. Truth is she has never left my heart. What a blessing for me to be able to share my after school with all of them. We even have dinner together as often as possible during the week. (Unless of course I use seasoning ..then Sloan won’t eat! Haha)

My children are happy that Patsy and her girls are in our lives. They are amazed at how well Patsy knows me ….the real me. She loves me and cares about my well being not only physically but mentally and spiritually. It is not uncommon for me to hear her say “I know Chris”, and she is right she does know. I can’t bullshit her about anything she just knows, so I am honest with her about how I feel about a lot of things. She gives me the freedom to say what I need to say and how I need to say it. That makes her a tremendous friend.

Of course when we go out I have to frustrate her and be a huge pain in the ass. I taunt her with lesbianism in front of others just to see her freak out. I tease her about things we did as kids and she loves it. I know she does, and quite frankly I really don’t think she would want it any other way. I just wanted to share with you yet another blessing in my life… My oldest and dearest friend …..Patsy.

I love you Patsy, you inspire me to be a better person and to be true to me. I wish I could see life through your eyes. xo

Grade One

 Patsy (left) Me (Right)

What is My Purpose?.....

I often ponder this thought as I continue to make my journey through life. I know that my purpose was much different 20 years ago, but once I had children my purpose changed, or it was side tracked by the hustle and bustle of child rearing, breast feeding, diaper changing, potty training, school…you get the picture. My purpose in life is something that I struggle immensely with. I am sure many people have questioned their day to day lives and wondered if their profession was the perfect decision or not…..but for me the very question; what is my purpose is on a much more profound level. It is not whether I should attain more schooling or change professions… it is simply about me .. What is My purpose?

I believe that out side of the duties of living life according to what society expects is actually our purposeful life. How many of us have ever sat down and asked then answered this question. I have had a near death experience and perhaps that is why I now ask myself this very question. A few years ago I believed that my purpose was to share with others that God had saved me and that I was to speak of this miracle. And yet when I found myself talking to others about my situation, the engagement of others listening to my story was absent.

A lot of soul searching and sifting through the matter of my past was an inevitable task to undertake. I had to force myself to face my past to figure out what path I was currently on to determine the course of my new direction. It was painful to do this for me. I never truly appreciated the demons in which I still hosted in my mind and my soul. This process caused an incredible amount of uncertainly about the love I had for others and the love that others claimed to have for me. In the end I worked through a lot of shit…(lol). But at the end of it I still had no idea what my purpose was. At the very core, why am I alive and what am I supposed to be doing? What mark or impression should I be leaving on this world?

I have resolved to the fact that I will not cure cancer, nor will I help world peace, but on a smaller scale of affecting change what should I be doing?

Having an illness is a great responsibility, one I wish I did not have. I am accountable to many people with a great expectation of how I handle my illness. Certainly being strong assists the ones around me in a very healthy way. Having said this, I carry a tremendous amount of guilt being sick. In fact it is a cross that I wish no one would ever have to bare. I would never want to change positions with any loved one, and be the observer /care taker. However, it does tear me apart knowing that I have hurt and stressed my family out. My spouse and my children are different now because of my illness, jaded in some ways. I know I have done that to them. Hearing your child cry because they are afraid of you dying or having a loved one pull away for fear of loosing you is difficult. It even puts me in a deeper fear of never finding out what my purpose is.

I found myself standing on the beach with 2.5 feet of snow under me. I extended my arms out like a cross, tilted my head back, looked to the sky and screamed “what do you want from me?” I stood there for what seemed like an eternity crying and yes screaming at God. I wanted to end my life that day, as I could not take the pressure of wondering when I was going to die, and how my family would be lost with out me, actually no HOW I WOULD BE LOST WITHOUT THEM!!! The thought of not being around for them…wow.

I was completely alone in my thoughts of my life being in such turmoil. I had no one to share any of this with, as the people who love you need to…. no HAVE to hear every single day that you are fine, so that in return they are ok.

I fell to my knees and wept there until I could no longer stand the cold. I got in my van to find my cell phone ringing. ‘Mom, where are you?” “I forgot my science and it’s due next period”… … I wiped my snotty nose and got right back into reality. The reality is I am a Mom. My children need me! So that is part of my purpose….

I know my life has meaning and purpose, and my purpose in life is to serve the ones I love. To enrich their lives and be enriched by them and the experiences we share. Lately I have opened my self up to new experiences and new people, and old new people….. I am taking the time to do the coffee ventures that everyone offers to do. Recently I reconnected with a friend that used to play the guitar in the choir with me, we enjoyed bacon and eggs together followed with an incredible walk in the park (yes geese infested). During this time with him I realized that a part of my purpose is also to make spiritual connections with others. We talked about our children, our parents and what it really means to enjoy life. Sitting on a park bench sharing coffee and our life experiences was exactly what I needed to make this realization.

My purpose in life is still something I struggle to determine fully, however I am starting to believe that my purpose is to just be ME. Open to the possibility that I am a good mother, and friend. Perhaps my life; as messy as it has been was meant to happen so that I could share my experiences and actually relate with, and help others. Through this blog in particular I have had the amazing opportunity to share with you and have been blessed that so many of you take the time to not only read my thoughts, but share emails with me after. I am so honoured to have you feel comfortable enough to share with me.

Connections.......

When I was 13 years old my Grand Mere passed away. Meme Levesque and my mom were very close. I remember that I was very blessed to have had the opportunity to spend time with the two of them; we took a few road trips to visit my mothers’ sister “Cookie” in Hawkesbury Ontario. I also one time had the incredible pleasure of sleeping at her house, “just me”.

By today’s standards it does not seem like a big deal for a child to sleep at grandmas, but for us it was. It also was a big deal considering the fact that my extended family is huge. I drank tea with Meme Rose and stayed up late enough to watch Johnny Carson with her. That night I talked her ears off… in fact at one point she told me shut up ! hahahah  But what I remember the most about that night was that I remember telling her that I didn’t want her to ever die.

She humoured my comment by asking me why. I distinctly remember telling her that she wasn’t allowed to die because my mom’s heart would break and die without her mom. She told me that I was a silly child, and that all people die, that it was a normal part of life. She then told me that a mother can’t ever die, they just go away.

The week of the funeral my mother had a “visit” from a rabbit, for one whole week this beautiful tamed rabbit decided to set up camp in our yard. It was never afraid of us as we approached it. Even before my mother had the chance to say anything I believed in my heart that the rabbit was my meme giving us the sign she was fine.

A few years back I was in a London hospital fighting for my life. I was very close to death. My sister will tell you every time she left the hospital for any reason she would see this little brown rabbit just sitting in the grass looking at her. Meme was giving my family the sign she was taking care of me and I was going to be fine.

One of my best friends Peg died 2 days after I was released from the hospital. The night before she died she called me from Palliative Care to tell me she loved me, and that she would always let me know she was here with me…….well when things are tough for me I find a white feather, I look up and say Thanks Peg as, I with all my heart believe she sent it to me to let me know that everything will be fine…

While I lived in Sarnia almost every single day I sat at the water front and watched the geese/ducks go about their daily routine of eating bread and walking around. For some strange reason the sight and sound of a Canadian Goose thrills me. When I hear them honk I pretend they are communicating with me. 

When I first moved back to Tecumseh I was worried about not having “my spot” to enjoy my moment each morning with “my geese”. My concern was quickly settled when at 8:05 pm a flock of geese flew over my home. I was standing on the deck when my heart burst with joy as I heard the music of my geese. I busted out in tears. The sound….. breath taking. Each night since then at exactly 8:05 pm literally hundreds of geese fly over my home, not to mention the several smaller flocks that fly over my house through out the day. On occasion I make eye contact with one, the intensity that I feel …well it’s like someone is trying to communicate with me. I feel honoured and blessed that I have this connection to this bird.

Of course me telling you this may make me sound crazy and my children would probably agree with you. Every time I see the geese anywhere, I say hello Mr. Goose or I break out into the “I want a golden goose “ song from my favourite childhood movie Will Wonka. They laugh at me and tell me how much they hate my love for this stupid bird, but…… and with me there is always a but… I know that there will come a time in their life when I will no longer be here, that they will always think of me when they see a Canadian Goose, and hopefully they will feel comforted knowing that I may in fact be sending them a sign that not only am I fine but they will be fine as well.

In life we find our selves busy beyond normalcy, with our jobs, kids, social events  etc… I think many of us forget to stop and make a connection with simple things. Taking the time to pull over and view a glorious sun set, or stare at a simple natural sight can actually fill you with contentment and peace. It’s true this certified crazy woman can attest to all good things in life are ours for the taking. :)

Bad Behaviour….

It just occurred to me that I am someone’s daughter! After celebrating yet another friends 40^th Birthday this past weekend I came to the realization that I am a person who exhibits bad behaviour. It is not by the judgment of my peers, but rather the feeling I had after sharing the latest photos of my partying with my folks that I had this epiphany . I sat in their kitchen this morning over coffee discussing my “good times” with them, and for some reason I thought in my head they would love to see my photos. Off to the computer to show my face book to the parents there blatantly displayed on my wall …. Proof that I am a wild chair groping party animal! I realized that I wasn’t so proud of my drunken state when my father viewed my chair straddle. Although both of them chuckled and responded with a” there’s Chrissy”… I felt ashamed of my behaviour. I am their daughter, I felt obligated to convince them after seeing the proof of the real me, that somehow I was kidding around and that the photos were purposely staged….. ( ya that’s it… they aren’t real!)

But who I am kidding right? I AM a wild out of control chick who loves to laugh and have fun, that’s why everyone invites me to their parties! Hahaha The truth is, and I do mean this… I have always liked to have fun, and well try to ham up as often as possible. I really enjoy being out with my friends! I have been away for so long and I am making up for lost time. I declare each and every time I go out that I will not drink, I mean it when I say it; but for some reason once I get around them gulp gulp slam gulp ….. I just get so damn excited! Kind of like a child at Chuckie Cheeses with a cup full of tokens, a pocket full of candy…. complete and utter adrenal pumping through the veins….it’s true.

I feed off my companions… I am literally a fun sucking vampire… I get going and there is no stopping me. It only takes one person to laugh at me and I take that as assurance that I am on the mark, then get set and I am off!  I know at times I must make a complete ass of myself and I do feel worried and vulnerable, now admitting that you would assume that I learn from it….NOPE not one god damn bit! Take for example poor Kerri, she came down from Montreal to visit, I pre drank at a friends before meeting at the bar. I was tanked I mean vomit city puking before 8:30 … wuss I know…. I said hello to Kerri and while doing so I grabbed her breast! I never intended but was so drunk I missed. She looked at me like I was fudged! I was! I never meant to , but now I am known in the group as the titty grabber…. My GOD come on….. but for some reason I have continued to now be the one in the crowd who grabs all the boobies I can ( for photos sake).

WHY? OH WHY? I am not gay, I do not like boobies, and really I don’t! So please tell me why when I drink do I like me some ….oh forget it, Freud probably has  some theory that explains why, like my mother never breast feed me or something…..

So if I am someone’s daughter that means I should be ashamed of how I behave in public, at home, or even just at my friends. Not only this…. I am someone’s MOTHER! Like come on! No pressure there. I tell my daughters no swearing, they say you do! I say no drinking they say you do! I say no dressing or dancing provocatively they say you do! No inappropriate facebook pictures! They say you do! My response…well you are stupid!  And besides  who said your opinion counts? Fudged up kids these days.hahaha

The truth in the matter is I really don’t have to drink to be silly; it is part of my retarded make up. Probably a combination of screwed up genes (haha) and a part of just being tired of the shit we face in life. I love life, I love to smile, I love to laugh and I love to be in the company of good people. I know that am out of hand sometimes, and I never intend to hurt or offend anyone I am with. I have just decided to take life by the scruff of its fucking neck and shake the fucken shit out of it! Oh and look pretty while doing it ;)

I am so blessed to have the opportunity to laugh and to be laughed with. My friends are the greatest asset in my life. I love them and they love me. I also believe that deep down inside they all like having their boobies groped by me as well, otherwise I wouldn’t be invited to all of their gatherings ;)

Samantha aka "Sammy Wammy", "Red" or  "Rouge"… Samantha is my youngest daughter. After she read the blog I had written about her sisterMelissa, she wondered if I had planned on writing about her as well........ This blog is written with a great deal of pressure to insure I capture the very essence of how wonderful my youngest daughter Samantha truly is. I am sure she would have offered to write it herself and allow me the opportunity to sign it with my name; however I am certain I might be able to embellish with some kind and flattering words about her.

While I was pregnant with Samantha, around 5 months I began hemorrhaging and ultimately I was told I was having a miscarriage. I did however, since I had been carrying twins, I lost her brother. I was told that I would most likely lose her as well. ....I carried her full term. The moment I went into labour with her, I was prepared to accept that it may not happen. After 27 hours in labour she was born, PERFECT, I might add. The most perfectly beautiful tiny little baby ever. With in seconds of finding out it was another girl there was silence, no usual cries from a new born baby, I turned mt head to my left and I saw my spouse begin to cry. I looked straight ahead to see this baby stretch and yawn, no tears! She looked unenthused about being woken from a great sleep. I then noticed she had the most perfect head of red hair. I instantly called her Samantha.

Samantha very rarely cried in fact she was and still is very timid and quiet. Samantha refused to speak to any man until she was around 5, yes that includes her own father. She would simply point to what she wanted or would recruit one of her older sisters to get what she needed. My poor father would hold her and she would position herself on his lap perfectly aligned to insure she could not see his face. Samantha went to bed exactly when I told her, ate all her food, and never refused to do as she was told. I never recall having to reprimand her for anything.  

When she was small she was obsessed with literature, of any kind, flyers, papers, and business cards even old lottery tickets. She would literally carry a cloth bag every where she went. She was always picking these items up and placing them in her bag. One time I was shopping at Zehrs, I was busy placing the groceries on the conveyor belt, the cashier turned to me and made a derogatory comment about “this kid” in the garbage, I turn to see this child that she was referring to , and there is Samantha feet hanging out of a garbage can. She had pushed a chair from the food court up to the garbage can so that she could retrieve a freshly scratched flashy lottery ticket. I stood in amazement at the lengths she would go to get what she wanted. Once she retrieved the lottery ticket she backed herself out of the can and waved at me with her prize. Smile ear to ear, so proud of herself.

Samantha would always ask to do things around the house, and always wanted to be a big girl. I often said no to her. She wanted to take her own showers, I told her when she was a big girl she could. She wanted to cut her own meat, I told her when she was a big girl she could do it all by herself. She wanted to ride her own bike; I made her sit in the cart behind mine. I guess I never wanted her to grow up. I just always wanted to do everything for her. J.K graduation, big production at the school, parents, grand parents… Patrick and I went to the school to watch our baby “graduate” from J.K. The teacher had arranged large building blocks in the classroom so that the children could step up on them as a stage. The teacher asked the children to stand on the block and answer some questions. The first boy ahead of Samantha , was asked by the teacher “What do want to do when you grow up?” He replied “I want to be a fire fighter”. Everyone clapped.

Samantha got to the top of the blocks, she looked over at Pat and I. She smiled, held her hands and began to swing back and forth. She took her foot and planted her tip toes into the block. Her red hair in pig tails, spiral curls, Osh Gosh Jump suit, flowered tights. Just a perfect little sweet angel. The teacher asked her what she wanted to do when she grew up.

Samantha paused and seemed to go into a deep train of thought. Pat and I looked at each other and wondered if she would say anything, as she was so shy. A couple of moments passed, she looked up and glared into Patrick’s eyes, we knew her response was to be good, as she looked very proud of herself. She took a deep breath and said “When I grow up I am going to drink beer and smoke cigarettes”……COMPLETE SILENCE ……no one clapped! The look on Pats face ….I nearly peed my pants.

I couldn’t believe how proud she was of her response! Here is this little girl who is never allowed to do anything on her own, so she figured she would tell everyone some thing BIG, and besides, the teacher said what to do want to DO when you grow up not what do want to BE…..

Samantha as I know her now, a beautiful teenage girl that is very creative, her literary abilities are second to none. She photographs the most amazing moments, and captures the very essence of life. She writes poetry and stories that are meaningful and always have a message of reason. She truly understands the real meaning of self love and promotion. She encourages not only herself but everyone she meets to love them selves and to be proud of how they look.

Samantha is the youngest which in all families the youngest means, the last…so in this case I saved the best for last!

Future Beer Drinking Cigarette Smoker!

My Legna…

I have decided to tell you about one of my children ~Melissa~ . Melissa will be Sweet 16 in 49 days; according to her daily countdown. She is my middle daughter, exactly 18 months younger than Ashley and exactly 18 months older than Samantha; smack dab in the middle. Melissa was born the night of my inaugural meeting with The Kent County Board of Education. I ran a successful campaign and was elected to The Position of School Board Trustee in the 1994 Municipal Elections. After being sworn in, my water broke. Melissa Marie November 26^th.

Melissa was always an incredibly happy child. For as long as I have known her she has had a hunger for happiness and living life. This kid really lights up a room. Her infectious smile and in her ability to make you feel like you are the only other person in a room with her is why I call her my legna. (Angel backwards). When she was 4 days old I almost lost her. She developed a respiratory virus that almost took her life. I will never forget the feeling of almost loosing her, and because of that I will admit she has a very special place in my heart.

This young lady is the essence of sweetness; don’t get me wrong if one of her sisters takes something of hers…Truck Driving Hillbilly Fouled Mouth! Anyways, I have watched her over the years develop into an incredible being; in fact I am tempted to want to be her friend and not just her mother. Her genuine excitement for people and life is second to none. She literally becomes a lit Christmas tree when someone waves at her or says hello. She has the ability to soak up all the goodness that life has to offer. She is always making us laugh, with her antics and silly voices, laughs , dances and even at times just at herself.

She has this way of doing things against her allowed venture and will tell me (confess to me) in such a way that I feel proud of her. Example, this year she attended the Tecumseh Corn Festival, (age 15) … and called me from her cell to tell me how proud she was that she was able to get into the beer tent. Ya, she was INSIDE the beer tent when she called. Of course I ask how, and she simply says “I walked in the exit”. She did not drink as she was just thrilled that she got in, that was enough for her. In stead of being flipping mad that my daughter had even contemplated going into a beer tent, I smiled and pictured her silly self waking in through the exit. I know I should be angry, but I trust her. I also wish at times I had teh ability to live and feel as she does.

Melissa loves food and has an incredible appreciation for sharing meals with family. In grade 2 she was asked to draw a picture of what makes her happiest during the holidays, most children drew a Christmas tree with presents. Melissa drew tiny blue circles all over  a plain white paper. Her teacher told her to redo her work. When I questioned Melissa about her picture she proudly told me that her picture was of the water on a window at my mothers’ house. Puzzled I asked her to explain in more detail. She told me that when our whole family is together at my mothers after we have a big meal the window in her kitchen is always wet. That makes her happy; all of us together. Each of the blue circles on her page was each one of us as the water beads on the window. Her value of family meals inspires me to share all of our meals together. Truthfully I never noticed the sweat on my moms' window, however when I notice it now, I tear.

Most recently Melissa was invited to a girls 16^th Birthday Party, which was held downtown Windsor. The girls’ parents had rented a club until 11pm for the kids to celebrate. Upon leaving the club, apparently my daughter ended up crashing a “Bolly Wood” Wedding Reception. Don’t ask me how, but she did. Full out Pakistani wedding! There is my daughter and her friends on the damn dance floor. Was that not bad enough? I creep on her face book photos and there she is on the dance floor at this wedding with the groomsmen!!! I tried to yell at her for it but …she told me how exciting it was to experience that type of wedding and I melted….

I am proud of Melissa, as I know her mission in life is to smile and make others smile. She truly looks at life as a blessing and views the cup as half already enjoyed….I am proud of her and her zest for life. She is my Legna.

Melissa I am so proud to be your Mom.xoxo

Melissa & Baby Pakistani Dancer 2010!

Melissa Just Being Melissa!