Sanctuary

There is a lot of anger swirling around Facebook right now regarding Syrian refugees. People are deleting friends over it and even their own Facebook accounts. This is my take for what it's worth....

I did delete a person who referred to refugees as 'sand niggers'. Pure disgusting racism. However, I also have friend who is American and he has a genuine concern for safety around terrorism - whether his concern is based in reality or not, it is a genuine concern. If I lived in a country that was impacted by 9-11, I may be far more apprehensive in this situation. I don't know and I'm grateful that I don't have to know how that must feel.

I personally support accepting refugees wholeheartedly. Full stop. But I want to come from a place of understanding for my friend who is acting out of concern for the safety of himself and his loved ones. Do I think that welcoming refugees impacts my safety? No, I don't. But for him, that feels real and I know that if I thought something was a threat to myself, or especially to my children, I would stop at nothing to fight it. Nothing. N-O-T-H-I-N-G, even if that threat was perceived and not real. So I need to have compassion or at least attempt a level of understanding for what he is experiencing. Anything less would be disloyal and closed minded.

The topics of Christianity, gun control, school shootings, Nazis and fear-based ruling of nations could be invoked at this time but I don't think it's helpful to the people who are in need of our focus. It only encourages more strife and that is not what is needed right now.

Do I have compassion for radical Islam extremists who commit acts of terror? Hell no, but they too are doing what they believe is right which just makes me sad. So where do we begin? We begin with doing the right thing. With taking all of the bullshit out of the equation and reducing it down to the Golden Rule. We help the innocents who are in this situation through no fault of their own. We help the babies and their parents who are fighting for their lives. 

Why? Because it's the right thing to do and that needs to start somewhere. 

I titled this post 'sanctuary'. I always go with my gut when I pull a title for my blog posts and that was the first thing that came to mind. Then I remembered using that title, or at least the word, in previous posts when talking about where I escape to when I need to lick my wounds (I'm talking about you, Barb Thurston and Linda Coffin). Perspective. I have a safe place to go when I'm hurt or sad or angry or feeling hopeless. I also have a comfortable safe home. These refugees, these PEOPLE have nothing. No home, no safety, nothing. My god. 

"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."

-Edmund Burke

The Empty Nest

The Empty Nest

It's looming. It's not going to resemble any preconceived idea I had about it. When I envisioned my empty nest, it was WAY off in the future; not 11 months away.  They are all three still babies. I don't understand how this happened, and now I have become one of THOSE women who has pictures of their kids from when they were small, everywhere. I'm serious. Bridget calls it my 'shrine'. She says "You need to do something about that shrine, Ma. It's embarrassing." She's right.

The other thing I didn't envision was facing it alone, but life happens and it's messy and it gives us what we need sometimes, rather than what we want. At least my alone-ish-ness in facing this was my decision. This year I have seen up close the tragedy of having that decision made for you, and it's a reminder to be grateful. It's a reminder to always see life through the lens where you have it 'less awful' than someone else. Compassion. Appreciation. I know mothers who would love to have my problem. I'm launching three healthy, happy, strong, smart, adventurous people into the world. What a ride it's been. What a gift. 

I was pouring my heart out to a friend a bit ago about my dread surrounding the impending empty nest. Here's what she had to say to me:

"Ah, the empty nest. Let's try an imagining. You wave off the last fledgling, rearrange the nest nice and comfortably, and wait with dignity as The Matriarch. You are not left behind, but rather you become the centre of their safety. They know. You may feel alone, but think what they are thinking. Mom is our centre and she waits, never changing in her love for us. She is our stable point in all the adventures and changes, good and bad, that are whirling about us. I can see it!"

How amazing are those words? I needed to blog them so I would have them forever but I also needed to blog them because they are beautiful and eloquent and important. Thank you for the gift of these words, Frances. You're an incredible friend and I'm so grateful to have you in my world.

(My blog. My shrine. No mocking me Bridget!)

ICE CREAM!!!!

So I was at the mall the other day (have I mentioned how much I hate going to the mall?). I was sitting down and a fellow in his 60's or so in a wheelchair with pretty clear cognitive deficits scooted by. I gave him a warm smile, just because he seemed to be a happy soul.  About 20 minutes later I saw him eating an ice cream cone. It was soft ice cream and he was really enjoying it. He even had a wee bit on the tip of his nose.

Fast forward another 20 minutes.  I'm back sitting in my original spot and he wheels up to me and says "I HAD AN ICE CREAM CONE!!!!!" I smiled and said "I saw that! I walked past when you were eating it and you looked like you were lovin' that ice cream cone."

"I WAS!!!" said he. "I LOVE ICE CREAM!!!!"  Now I was laughing.  His enthusiasm was completely contagious. I'm actually smiling as I type this, just remembering the encounter.  I said "Life is too short not to eat ice cream, isn't it?"

"YEAH!!!! I'm coming back tomorrow for MORE ice cream" he said.  

I've thought about him often since I saw him that day. There was just something really special about the complete joy he had in something as simple and wonderful as an ice cream cone.

I've been trying to be more 'mindful' as of late. I hate the buzz word but I like the concept. That moment with the Ice Cream Dude was a mindful moment. But it was also a lesson in trying to be happy about the little victories in this life.... like loving an ice cream cone SO MUCH that you don't even give a shit that there is a plop of it on the end of your nose.  

David

This guy.

David Yule. Husband of my best friend on this planet, my best friend of 30 years, Barb. I've blogged about her here before.

David Yule was a fucking force of nature. Most of the time he scared the hell out of me. He knew who he was. He had opinions and wasn't afraid to share them, often loudly. When he laughed, he had the most fabulous crinkles on his cheekbones and he laughed often.

He was larger than life. He worked hard, played hard and loved his family ferociously. He married Barb when she was 21 and OHMYGOD they look like babies in their wedding photo. He said things like "Ok. You were right... and I was that other thing."

This isn't the most articulate blog I've ever written, but I don't care. I'm rusty and getting back into it again and this one hurts so I'm just throwing words onto the page.

Barb and Dave were (are? I hate this) the best team I have ever seen. Was it perfect? God no. I remember one time when he made her mad and she drove to see me in Nakusp (a 3 hour drive) just to vent. She tells the story of when he tried to throw out the Disney videos she used to watch with their kids and she threw her wedding dress at him, saying "Here! Why don't you throw this away too?!!!"

But together they were magic. The were a team. They worked hard to move forward in the same direction, overcoming adversity and balancing one another. They loved each other like no other and created a life that was a solid foundation for their amazing kids and a safe and wonderful place for friends - their many, many friends from all over the world.

David worked in Russia and he loved it. Barb kept the home fires burning while he was away, working, driving kids to hockey and once again, they found a beautiful balance. He couldn't do what he did without her and he was her anchor. When he was home, they always found a way to squeeze everything out of their time together.

And now he's gone and it's left a hole that I can't describe. Barb without Dave? How is it even possible? But it is. It's real and it's stupid and it makes me want to scream because if there was ever a man who deserved a long life it was him.

But life goes on. The sun continues to rise and set, as unthinkable as that is after a tragic loss like this one. Barb has found a way to move forward because he would expect her to and he still finds ways to nudge her along as only he could.

Barb will be ok. Jacob and Sara will be ok. But the world is a bit dimmer and less interesting without him in it.

Ruby a.k.a. Stitch a.k.a. Satan

Readers, meet Ruby.  Ruby is the newest addition to the Barth/Conley/Gustafson tribe and she is adorable but very, very evil.  She is five months old and has lived at the Cranbrook SPCA since her birth which I think goes a long way to explaining her satanic ways.  When I met her for the first time, she scratched me and ran away.  She does that on a daily basis and also growls which led me to the conclusion that she wasn't actually a cat, she was an alien like on the cartoon "Lilo and Stitch".  Do you see the similarity?  Do you?  DO YOU?!!!!

Ruby is half manx which is a h-u-g-e part of her charm and I'm sure one of the few reasons that she hasn't been strangled yet.  Not quite manx but certainly not 'normal' (in oh, so many ways).  She has half a tail.  Half.  Have you ever seen anything quite like that before?  Ever?

Ruby was named after one of the characters in the television show 'Supernatural'.... a beautiful demon.  Appropriate somehow, no?  'Stitch' CERTAINLY would have worked well too but for now, she's our Ruby and we love her.

Now if only I can get her to stop taking her evil demon poops in my plants.... maybe I'll smite her.

Suze-isms

Yes, I've been away a long time.  Blah, blah, blah.... I apologize.  Yadda, yadda, yadda.... so sorry.

Now that we have that out of the way, let me tell you all about the 'Custom Dictionary' on my BlackBerry.  I was looking through it the other night and had so much fun that I simply have to share it with y'all.  Now for those of you who are even less technologically inclined than I am (a rare beast you must be if you exist), a custom dictionary keeps a list of words that you use frequently that the existing dictionary on the BlackBerry doesn't recognize.  Here we go.

Abbotsford: Where Jim's parents live, folks who I absolutely ADORE.  Their home has become a refuge for me and I love them so much.

Absolution: Since when is that not a word???  Sheesh.  Apparently I must require it on a regular basis.

Advil:  Thank fuck for Advil.  You know those people who always say "Oh, I just HATE taking painkillers".  Yeah.  I'm not one of them.  I buy it in bulk at Costco.

Apologize:  Whatever.  My BlackBerry is set to UK English where they want me to use 'apologise' instead.  Looks dumb and reminds me of a former co-worker who really needed a head-squishing.

Asshat:  Bwah ha ha ha ha ha!!!!  Love that word.  Reminds me of Shannon, a former co-worker who I love and who is funny as fuck.  She introduced me to it.

Bitches:  Yay, Bitches!  Especially the Blind Bay variety.

Blech: Really, what other word can you use?  "Susan, would you like olives on your pizza?"  Blech.

Bwah:  As in "Bwah ha ha ha ha"!

Carmella:  Short for 'Carmella Soprano'.  My darling offspring believe that I have mafia-wife hair.  Hence the nickname.

Citran:  Apparently the dictionary recognized 'neo' which is best paired with 'citran'.  Please see 'Advil' above for opinions re: voluntary pain.

Clusterfuck: A word describing my life at least 3 times per week.  Plus, I just like any word I can pair with 'fuck'.  Yes, I'm a potty mouth.  So was Elizabeth Taylor.  What of it?

C*nt:  I really, really, REALLY want to type the entire word but I don't want to offend anyone although the mere suggestion of the word has likely already done the job.  People who know me well know that I love that word.  I refuse to let anyone make a word that describes a part of my body into something derogatory.  Reclaim that word, ladies.  Seriously.  It's ours.

Ding-ding:  A term of endearment, really.  If I haven't called you 'Ding-ding' at least once, I probably don't really like you all that much.  Just sayin'.

Donde:  As in "Donde Esta", Spanish for "Where is".  I use it all the time.  "Donde esta keys?!!!"  or even "Donde Esta Love?!!" if I feel that I'm not getting enough attention at any given time.  Hijacked this one from Seeso.

Fiestaware:  I heart Fiestaware.  I have no words.

Fishercat:  Dear God.  This is whole blogpost of it's own.  I'll be sure to make it my next one.... in another 7 or 8 months.  Thought I better say it because all of you were thinking it.  Haters.

Fuck:  Also - fucked, fucker, fuckers, fuckin', fucking, fuckity (as in 'what the fucikty fuck?!), motherfucker, motherfucking and last but not least, fucktard.  I'm seriously sorry if I've offended anyone here.  I was raised Catholic and was unable to use that word for the first 16 years of my life.  I have a lot of making up to do.

Helga:  Another nickname for my hair.  From my children.  They think I'm actually powerless and the only reason I have any ferocious-ness at all is because of the independent entity that resides atop my head.  Is my hair really that bad???

Hijinx:  Seriously!!!  Is there a better word in the English language?  Love getting up to all sorts o' hijinx on a regular basis.

Nyquil: Please see above definitions for 'Advil' and 'Neo Citran'.  If I had a triplicate prescription pad I'd be dangerous.

Ohmygod:  Much more effictive with no spacing.  Also, "omg" and "omgomgomgomg". 

Pooter:  Cutest word in the world for my downstairs girlie-bits.  'Pooterville' is also there for which I have no reasonable explanation.

Roundy: I like to put a 'y' on the end of many, many words.  It's cute when I do it, I swear to god.

Schmoosh:  Also, 'Schmooshy' and 'Schmooshing'.  A lovely way to describe cuddles.  I really do love schmooshing.

Wowza:  a way I express being speechless.  I am incapable of being speechless, therefore I needed to create a word that replaced speech-less-ish-ness.

Zilla:  Something I put on the end of a word to accentuate it.  How tired am I?  It's 2:58am.  Tired-zilla.

Rowan-ish-ness

Rowan.
Reluam (Pronounced 'Ra-loom' for some unknown reason).
Ra-loom-a-loo.
Ra-loomy.
Rowan the Dragon Mauler ('Reluam' is 'Mauler' backwards.  Don't ask.)

Rowan is lovely.  He came to visit the night before Connor's birthday 3 weeks ago and decided to stay. He needed a soft place to land.  We had an extra room.  Makes perfect sense, no?

Rowan is one of Connor's best friends.  He's a remarkable young man; President of the Youth Society, Honour Roll, Student Council, Saxophone Player (piano too) and is just really, really sweet.  He fits right in with us and already in this short amount of time, I can't imagine our family without him.  He thinks he may want to be a lawyer.  I think there's no doubt that he'll achieve whatever he puts his mind to.

Gigi now has yet another brother/quasi-brother (Connor, Jack, Bryce, Adam and now Rowan) and I really think she doesn't have a chance at dating until her mid 20's.  I now have someone who can reach for the r-e-a-l-l-y high things in the cupboards.  Connor and Jack have a built in xbox playing, D&D geeking, homework-doing brother/friend. 

We love our Ra-loom and we're so happy to have him here with us.  He's a bonus to our family and we're better because he's in it.

   Rowan looking dapper and happy.

Rowan and Gigi looking fierce.

Randy 'n Rowan

So y'all have met my friend Randy; he was here for Thanksgiving being a pain in the ass, as per usual. (See Randy?  THIS is how I get the last word in.  Mwah ha ha ha ha!)  This past weekend, Randy decided to come for a visit again... I decided to let him because he was bringing his beautiful, feisty, wonderful daughter, Grace. 

The last time Randy stayed at Shangri-la, he slept in the spare room on an antique bed left here by my sister and her hubby.  Now, I know that 'antique bed' sounds very quaint and refined but apparently that isn't exactly the case.  When Randy found out that Rowan (my new quasi-son....I'll get to that in a minute) was sleeping on the antique bed, he was horrified.  He went on to describe in cringe-worthy detail just how uncomfortable it is to sleep on a bed that has springs poking through the mattress.  He also pointed out that Rowan is 6'4" and it's a double bed which isn't exactly long enough for our Rowan.  I asked Randy if he could pick up a foamy and bring it from Kelowna to make the bed a bit more comfortable.  He completed disregarded my request, being the Ding-Ding that he is. 

He ignored my request by bringing a new Queen-sized bed.  The frame.  The box spring.  The mattress.  Pillows.  Two sets of bedding.  A special Buzz Light Year pillow from Grace.  He also brought clothes (bags of clothes) and a barbeque for me.  Overwhelming.  Really. 

Randy saw a need and simply wanted to help.  His generosity left me speechless which as most of you know is NOT an easy task.  Rowan asked me why Randy, a complete stranger to him, would do something like this.  I told him "Randy wants to make a difference and he believes in your potential."  Then I think I might have smiled and said something like "Don't fuck it up" but I don't remember for sure. :)

I've known Randy for just over a year and he's become one of my best friends which is an elite category when you consider that people like my Barbs and my Seeso currently live there.  I know I say it often but I'm really incredibly lucky to have such amazing friends and family.  I'm not sure I'm worthy of them but I try my best to be.

Randy and Grace. 

Grace is now 14 and a young woman but is every bit as beautiful as she was in this photo.

Ok, ok, ok! I couldn't wait.

Here is the Night Time/Day Time bit I was talking about in my previous post! (If you haven't read it yet, please do so now before watching the video.  Yeah, I'm serious.)

Ok, now that you've read my previous post, you can watch this.  Try to imagine me on an airplane looking out one window ("Night time!") then the other window ("Day time!!")

The video is literally 17 seconds long so just do it!  I promise you'll laugh.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THrpJSstWZ8

(Two posts in ONE month and it's only November 3rd, Barb.... )

Yup. That's it....

I've always emphatically stated that my favourite colour is yellow.  For the most part it is but tonight I saw another colour that rivals it closely.  I don't have a specific name for this colour so I'll just call it "when-the-sun-sets-and-you're-above-the-clouds-watching-it" colour.  Yeahhhh.  Also known as 'orange'.  Please see the photo below as an illustration:

I guess there is actually some yellow-ish-ness in it, no?  And while this photo is lovely (thank you google photos), the actual sunset was much more beautiful.  Tonight, watching sun set above the clouds as I flew to Victoria was pretty amazing.  I was also able to look out one window and see night time and the other window and see day time (Night time.... day time.  Night time... daytime.  My friend Shori is laughing her ASS off right now reading this.  I'll add a link that will explain why this is so freakin' funny in my next post).

ANYhoo.... the concierge will be calling at 7am with my wake up call (.... "would you like another call again 10 minutes later, Ms. Barth.... just in case?"  "Why yes.  Yes I would, Mr. Concierge.") so I'd best get some sleep in my Delta-like bliss.

G'night all. :)