People in my neighbourhood

I love my hood. It's tree lined, has lots of old (and expensive) houses and young families, and is, for the most part, quiet. I especially love the fact that most people will smile and say hello. This morning I caught a preteen girl glancing at me and when we locked eyes, she smiled brightly and I smiled back. When she looked away, I continued to assess her and noticed two things: 1) she had a Blackberry and 2) there was a Coach backpack at her feet (I didn't even know Coach made backpacks!). It made me smile. These are the people in my neighborhood.



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Inside a Marriage After an Emotional Apocolypse

When Dave and I met, he was 22 and I was 27.  We met in one of the most foreign and beautiful countries on earth and we fell in love.  We had fun.  We laughed.  We swam in oceans and ate delightful things.  We sent long emails to each other and talked about life after Japan.

Then we moved together to England.  We had a transitional phase (read, we fought a lot) then we adjusted and grew into each other.  Adjustment gave way to confidence and acceptance and we became engaged.  We travelled to Rome and I discovered Europe.  Again, we ate breathtaking food, walked hand in hand all over the country and met Chuck D.

When we moved up to Scotland, the ease that had accompanied us in our preceding 3 years together disappeared and tension was a more constant companion.  He hated his job, I didn't like mine.  We lived in a good flat in a bad part of town.  I commuted 3 hours a day and hated it.  But the love was still there and while we had no social life, we loved our time together.  We planned a beautiful wedding and had a mini-moon.  But our hearts were not as happy as they had been.  Despite this, we planned for a baby.  Perhaps it wasn't the best of times, but it worked like a charm and we looked forward to her while being sick of life in the town where Dave was born.

Then she died.

And we've been tripping over our feet ever since.

The last 15 months since we lost Isla have been so indescribably difficult from an emotional, physical and psychological point of view. In regards to our marriage, we never dreamed of being where we are when we sunned on rocks by the river in rural Japan.  There have been times over the last year where we have been sick of each other.  That connection we felt so sure of has been strained by our grief.  It's a strange thing - to be simultaneously comforted by the person who understands you and your loss better than anyone else in the world and also want to be as far away from them as humanely possible.

The old us have gone.  We are completely different people.  There are shadows of our former personalities we can illuminate when we need to, but fundamentally, we are strangers to ourselves and to each other.  We have had some raw discussions, words and feelings that feel like bare-knuckled hits to our hearts.  Dave's eyes are no longer as shiny as they used to be.  My self-confidence ebbs at a low level and consequently, I need him to prop up my ego in a way that embarrasses me.

Marriage is hard, yo.  People say it all the time.  It's true.  It's about give and take, being high when he's low.  Watching your words.  Being kind even when you want to choke each other.  It's about thinking about the other person all the time and loving him all the time (liking him all the time is optional).

We're not going to get a divorce.  That's simply not an option nor has it ever been a consideration.  We're just starting over.  We've been together in Toronto now for 4 months.  We've transitioned for the last time.  There is no talk of "when this happens" or "when that happens".  It's just now.  We're working on ourselves and our relationship because it's the most important thing to us right now.

I finally read "The Happiness Project"as per Anna's recommendation and because my boss had a copy.  I didn't love it  because the author was already happy; she just wanted to be happier.  I think I'd be more pleased if it had been written by a person who had been devastated then learned a few things to be happy again.  I did, however, take away a few tenets that I've moulded to fit my life now:
1) Be brave.
2) Be kind.
3) Cut people slack.
4) Be selfish when you need to be.
5) Breathe.

I have been trying to remember and applying these things every time I talk to my husband.  He in turn is relaxing more which makes me relaxed.  We hug each other longer and sit closer together on the couch.  I'm listening to him more.  He's the father of my daughter and my partner in life.  I vowed to always save him the big piece of chicken and to be his safe place, and he vowed to unball his socks before throwing them in the laundry basket and to love me always and forever.  I love him more than anything.  I've decided to add his last name to my own.  We are a family.  I couldn't imagine going through all this with anyone else in spite it all. 

Hmmmmm...

I couldn't find the right image, so just remember the episode when Homer decided to suppress his rage.  You remember the one - when Bart drew a cartoon called Angry Dad because of Homer's episodic bouts with anger.  In an attempt to control his emotion, he decides to swallow it and as a result, he grew lumps that turned out to be boils.  His anger was manifested through these boils.

Now that I've set the scene, I can say that this is basically what has happened to me my whole life.  My pain, my anger, my stress manifests itself through my body.  I'll spare you the details, but I've had a very traumatic life.  I don't like to think about it or talk about it, and therein lies the problem.  I met with a homeopath for the first time tonight and we talked about a lot of stuff.  She took my history and said "ooh" and "ahh" and promised to get in touch with some remedies in a few days.  I don't usually think about all the terrible things that have happened prior to having Isla, but unfortunately, they're all connected.  My latest physical issue is connected to the birth and a culmination of how I deal with stress and trauma.  When she made this assessement, something clicked.  She said I'm intellectually capable of expressing myself, and I do a good job of it, but I'm emotionally suppressing and there is enough evidence to connect the dots that the mental, emotional and physical are all connected.

Of course, this can all be conjecture.  Of course, I can be so desperate for a "cure" that I'm willing to grasp on to anything.  I guess, we'll see.

***************
I had a bad day today.  I really toughie.  I reached out and D caught me.  It's so hard sometimes, going through this thing.  Thanks for being there for me D, my sista from another mista.  Love you.

Goodbye Cable

Dear Rogers Extended Cable Package,

When you came into my life 5 months ago in the form of an offer of 6 months free, I really couldn't resist you. With over 900 channels including movies and music, you hit all the right spots. After 6 years away from American/Canadian programming , I indulged in your variety and overdosed on your banality. ANTM, The Bachelorette, nearly every program on HGTV-I lost hours of my life plugged into the inanity. But Movies-on-Demand, Boardwalk Empire, Spartacus; I anticipated my escapes into fantasy and history.

Despite the good, you're not worth the $96 a month. For a long time, I wished I could quit you, and now I will. In your place, I aim to sew and knit more, read more and study for my classes. I hope to have more meaningful conversations with my husband when he's not killing zombies on the Xbox. Perhaps we will get Netflix or Zip to continue with our addiction to films and dust off the old Scrabble to engage in some hardcore competitiveness.

So, so long Cable. You will be missed sometimes, but hopefully not all the time.


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Flying Solo

I went to see Harry Potter all by my lonesome last night because no one wanted to see it with me and you know what?   I had a nice time flying solo. 

I arrived just as the commercials were starting and didn't have to shop around for seats for 2, which was nice as the theatre was close to full.  I just plunked myself down next to a couple of chicks exactly where I wanted to sit (about 4 rows from the top, right side aisle seat) and enjoyed the show without feeling weird.  When the credits started rolling at the end, I hopped out of my seat and was the first one out of the theatre.  It was just freeing. 

It was a cool night and having dressed in jeans and a light sweater, I sauntered home, thinking about a few things and processing a few others.  I had such a nice walk, I walked a bit further before eventually heading home.  I like spending time alone and I like just being within myself.  My friend had mocked me earlier in the day when I told her I was planning on flying solo to the movies, but it's nice to just be responsible for yourself once and a while.  My thoughts are often consumed with a future baby and I am so aware that hopefully very soon, it won't just be me and Dave running out on a moment's whim and being free.  So while it's just us for the next while, I plan on hanging with just me as much as I can.

Summer, Summer, Summertime

It has been that kind of summer, one that helps with the grieving. I feel my daughter everywhere I look - through the rustling leaves, in the fluffy white clouds and when I see squirrels running around doing their squirrely business (for some reason, I know that she'd be wild about animals). Last summer, in the thick of my grief, I cursed the sunshine and the long, bright days. Now I revel in them because they make me feel closer to her.

Things are ticking along well in the Big Smoke. We both have jobs, there's a world of adventure at our doorstop and our laughter moves from room to room in our lovely flat. Someone is still missing though, but we say her name and keep her with us in every thing we do.

We have fun a lot. I think we have to.

















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Finding faith

Beautiful sakura right near my work.

After a trying a couple of weeks ago, I feel like I want to return to having faith.  Don't get it twisted - I don't feel like that thing called God and I can be BFF right now, but I feel like I can't carry the load on my own anymore.  I am a ruthlessly inefficient over-thinker and I have been for most of my life.  But I started to change this is Japan when I decided to let some things go and hand it over to the "universe".  I would wake up in the morning, sit in seiza while looking out at the moutains and give thanks for my life and all the gifts that had been bestowed upon me.  At night, before falling asleep, I would give thanks for the lessons I had learned that day, and prayed for blessings for my loved ones. 

When I moved to the UK, I stopped meditating in the mornings, but I always woke up and fell asleep giving thanks.  Unfortunately, my bad habits slowly returned and I would overthink and get stressed out by my precarious position in the UK, when honestly, things weren't that bad.

When I became pregnant with Isla, I gave thanks morning, noon and night, happy to have her inside of me and feeling like each day was a gift.  But then she died.

And I haven't been the same since.

Sakura will always remind me of Isla.

After nearly a year of walking this spiritual past aimlessly and blindly, I know I need to give up some of my anxiety to faith. 

Faith that I'm not alone.

Faith that I'll be happy, fulfilled and free.

Faith that I'll get pregnant again and carry a baby to term.

So I'm trying.  I give thanks when I remember and let things go when there is nothing more I could possibly do.  I don't expect to have the blind faith I had before any time soon, but I do believe I'm ready for the universe to carry the load when it feels too heavy upon my shoulders.

A couple of years ago I wanted to get the word faith tattooed on my wrist.  That got veteod by Dave so I'm going to try to tattoo it on my mind.

And so it begins.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step
(or a really rocking pair of flats)