Grandmothers

{Post: 258/365}

thinking

about

grandmothers

missing them

remembering

the gifts

and treasures

they left behind

grandma

taught me 

to crochet

and that

nobody is perfect

and there is NOT

only one way

to do something

nanny

taught me

to love

and to nurture

and to improve my scrabble game

grandma 

showed me

courage

compassion

and patience

nanny 

showed me

intelligence

comfort

and faith

and I am grateful

for both

grandma

for a short time

nanny 

for a long time

and both 

gone now but

forever

living inside my heart

Knowing

{Post: 34/365}

Do you know

how many times

you have known something

and forgotten it

until you relearn it

know it

and somehow forget it yet again

only to relearn it again

and repeat the process

over and over again?

Am I the only one this happens to?

I think many times

that I know what I need to know

when I need to know it

but somehow

I also know 

that it must have been something I knew before

or have always known and just forgotten

again

I think this process happens

so often

that what we know becomes

such a deep part of us

as intrinsic as breathing

that we are't aware how much we DO know

until we need to remember it

and then we are able to dredge up memories

and knowledge from our deep places

don't you find this remarkable?

I Remember...

{Post: 341/365}

I remember...

flour sifted through a sifter

and baked into fresh loaves of bread

butter melting on top

to make a crispy crust

and the best baked bread I ever had

I remember...

scrabble tiles on a game board

spelling out good words

and getting close

but never quite winning

against your fine scrabble intellect 

I remember...

bed time snacks

of toast with peanut butter and brown sugar

or cup-of-soup in a mug

spoon taken out of the spoon jar

on the kitchen table

I remember...

sneaking into the garden

to pull out fresh carrots

rinsing the dirt with the garden hose

and munching the biggest and best

from grandpa's garden

I remember...

sharing my first cups of tea

with you and grandpa

his poured into the saucer to cool

and pantry molasses cookies

or other home-baked goodies for a snack

I remember...

running into the kitchen

looking for a spoon

to stir our witches brew or other concoctions

of sawdust, dirt, flowers and water

stirred into your good metal wash tub

I remember...

chasing and collecting frogs galore

into the same metal washtub

from the puddles in the front yard

after a warm summer rain

and frogs were a joy

I remember...

so many beautiful things

and none of them even half as beautiful

as you were to me

the sweetest lady i knew

my grandmother...my NAN (nanny)

I Remember

{Post: 334/365}

 I remember cousins all piled into one room to sleep

I remember late night whispers and giggles

I remember waiting and hoping to catch a glimpse of SANTA

and the adults in the house getting frustrated as they told us time and again, "Go to sleep!"

I remember the excitement of Christmas

I remember the warmth and comfort of family

I remember the smells and bustle of sharing Christmas dinner

even though this was many many years ago

I remember the laughter and comfort and joy

But my favourite memory is yet to come

MY First KISS

{Post: 252/365: Original Post: Verisimilitude}

I couldn't decide whether to tell the first kiss EVER or the first kiss that really mattered to me so I will tell both stories.
There are MANY firsts in life and even many first kisses!
My first kiss came from my first best boy friend. He and I did everything together when we were kids because we lived on the same street in the back woods of nowhere so there really wasn't much choice.
He was my first red head and YES he absolutely had the temper!!
I learned a lot of the things I liked in a boy from him and measured many of them against him in the future. He'd tramp all through the swamp just to pick me a flower, he'd give me his sweater if I was cold, he'd hold my hand if I was scared, he'd sit with me for ages with his arm around me and my head leaning on his chest, and we'd ride bikes together, collect eggs from the chickens, climb around the big dirt pit (WE WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO), explore, tromp around in the bush, play hide and seek and other games with the other kids on the street, and otherwise do all the things that best buds do together! I was 8 years old and he was 10 (if I remember that correctly) and he was ALWAYS trying to kiss me!
We were playing hide and seek with the other kids in the neighbourhood and I ended up hiding with him and our neighbour Ronnie. (I had a crush on him!)
For some reason while we were hiding, sitting under the canoe, Brian decided he would dare Ronnie to kiss me and I'm not sure it was really that hard a sell! LOL
Anyways, BOTH of them kissed me and I can remember I probably blushed ten shades of red and it was a good thing it was dark out by then!
However, I always remember it because I never really minded Brian wanting to kiss me...he WAS my best friend and I did love him you know! But, more importantly somehow I also got a kiss from Ronnie whom I had a BIG crush on and it made me feel really good! (He was my first OLDER man you know! ;) lol) :)

The other kiss was something different.
It was the first time I was kissed by someone I was madly, head over heels in love with. With all my heart.
I was terrified!
He was beautiful. He was the boy ALL the girls looked at and wanted and why not? He was gorgeous. Sometimes, I couldn't even believe that he liked me at all.
The truth is convoluted and confusing and doesn't really matter now but, one night on a weekend he called, I went and by that time I KNEW why. Of course, I went because I was in love with him. That I believed it meant anything to him was probably my age and naivety but, that doesn't matter either.
What does matter is that he KNEW I was terrified. He KNEW it was the first time really  and should never have toyed with me because he'd spent weeks, months even just being my friend and it never occurred to me even ONCE that he would ever WANT to kiss me but, sometimes boys just want to serve their own needs. Apparently so many years after the fact I still carry some hurt for the parts that shouldn't have happened but, he was SWEET and SOFT and gentle and made me feel things I hadn't known I could or would feel. (and NO I did not do anything with him but have a serious kissing fest!) I am NOT sorry for those things. Nor, will I ever be sorry I loved him. I learned things even from him and I'm sure now that they were valid lessons. I am stronger anyway. I survived a broken heart...though it did take a long time to fix myself and NOW I have a memory of a first kiss that actually felt like love to me. Since it wasn't the only time he ever kissed me I'm pretty sure in it's own strange way it was. Though truly, I could still just be deluding myself.
The thing is that I had no idea it could be like that and you can trust me when I say not ALL boys kiss like that either!! It was an experience worth having and left me with a GOOD idea of what I wanted in the man who would ALWAYS be kissing me...lucky me...I have been married 13 years to a man who's always kissed me like he loves me and I hope will continue to a long time yet! ;)

AJ's Basket

{Post 91/365: Original Post: What I Want MY Children to KNOW}

tiny wicker baby bassinet

inner lining sewn with love

sweater outfit placed tenderly

bonnet and booties

never to be worn

tiny baby boy bathing suit

and rubber duckies

from big brother

ceramic teddy bear 

and teddy bear candle

from sissy

an easter egg

a Christmas stocking

a birthday bear

month of December

and cookie monster baby toys

with love from mommy and daddy

and your baby book

folded up in a baby blanket 

and cover crocheted by momma

the book holds

our sleeping dream

in the pockets

pictures

a crocheted flower

a lost baby pocket

seashells for peace

a tiny crocheted baby blanket

a baby brush

momma's home test -positive

sympathy cards

your baby calendar

filled in, until...

a book for mommy's thoughts

of sorrow, of anguish

as she and daddy grieved your loss

once I lit a candle for you

but I need to no longer

I carry you with me always

and even more

when I look at the tattoo

over my heart

angel baby

I wish you could have stayed with me

but I love you no less

because you could not

your basket of things

sets my heart at ease

*love you forever*

mommy xo

The SADDEST moment of my life.

{Post 90/365: Original Post: Verisimilitude}
The story of my deepest sorrow begins with me being 4 1/2 months pregnant and going to the hospital to have my first ultrasound. The technician kept sighing. 
Then, when he asked if there had been any cramping or spotting I KNEW something was wrong. He couldn't tell me anything. He told me we could wait in the waiting room for the doctor on call to talk to us or go home and call our family doctor for the results. 
We waited. 
For FOUR (4) HOURS!! 
Then, because something had happened to make the baby stop growing, and he LOOKED like he was only 12 week size this particular doctor told me to go home and wait for the baby to spontaneously abort. IDIOT! 
I AM almost 5 months pregnant!! I am about a WEEK away from feeing the baby beginning to kick and move! I HAVE already heard his heartbeat and he sounded wonderful!! So I went home and called MY doctor. He said, "Why would he tell you that? You can't wait!" 
"No duh I can't wait around with a dead baby inside me!!" 
Soooo...my doctor prescribed a medication to induce labour and it worked and then hubby and I waited for it to start because he said it could take from anywhere between 2hrs and 8 or so. But, it started right away and hubby and I drove to Orillia to share the most sorrow we have ever shared in our lives together. 
There are parts of this story I will never tell. I will carry them with me all the days of my life but, I won't share because they are my pains to keep-to myself. 
Orillia has a beautiful program for parents who lose their babies and they have beautiful, compassionate nurses who make the whole ordeal easier to handle. 
When my contractions started in earnest I was sitting in a chair enduring them and then I realized...drugs were not going to hurt anyone because I was not going to have a living baby to hold at the end of this. So I called the nurse and asked for drugs. Then I climbed into the bed and fell asleep. 
In the morning I woke up and went to the bathroom to pee and gave birth to my son, Andrew Jordan Bissonette. 
I called the nurse again and she took him and said she would clean him and bring him back so we could look at him again. I am calm as I tell you this but, I assure you I was NOT calm at the time. In fact, I was almost hysterical. I made hubby climb into the bed with me and hold me while we waited for them to bring him back. 
At the time we didn't know whether he was a boy or a girl so the nurse had suggested we choose a name that could be for either. Hubby suggested Jordan and I liked it so that was it. That part was easy really. 
When the nurse returned with AJ he was laid in a little pocket almost the size of a mini tissue holder that some grandma lady had made for these special babes. 
He had: 

2 arms 

2 legs 

10 fingers 

10 toes 

2 ears 

2 eyes 

a nose 

and a smile his momma would have loved (I KNOW this) 

and YES he had "the equipment"

This is the part that hurts because I love him just as much as the other three even though I did not get to keep him, smell him, clothe him, kiss him, smell him, sing to him, teach him, bathe him, listen to him coo and giggle and eventually begin to talk, watch him crawl and move and eventually walk....

At some point the nurse brought a beautiful memory book that I could write in which included pics of the baby that we could look at later as we needed to or show our family if they needed to see him. The book came with an outfit that I thought was very beautiful but, because our baby was so tiny I asked the nurse to take back and give to another family who may actually be able to use it for their baby. But, the gesture was not lost on me. It was very sweet.

A year after, on the anniversary of AJ's death we received a card from the nurses in this unit and I have always been touched deeply by the work that they are doing for and during the grieving process of all those parents who have lost their babies too.

Thank you.

This is NOT my whole story but it is enough for you to know and share my sorrow.
AND enough for all the other mother's who have felt the same to know, I KNOW and I UNDERSTAND.

I have since had a beautiful, healthy, joyful, angel baby and have moved on from this sorrow but, I carry AJ with me always and I will never forget him.

The scariest thing that ever happened to me.

{Post 83/365: Original Post:(Nov. 7,2009) Verisimilitude}
I am behind in my posts because I have been sick this week so I'm posting 2 or 3 that I wrote previously.

The scariest thing that ever happened to me was a fight with my ex-husband.  It was the last fight we had before I left him.  It was the final straw for me.
He had been on me all afternoon.  I don't remember what was going on that day but I know the kids weren't with us and I thank God for that.  He wanted to fight and as usual he always got what he wanted.  I remember thinking that I was done with all the bullshit and I wasn't going to take it anymore.  I baited him knowing he would respond violently.  As soon as we were inside the door of the apartment he pushed me into the closet door so it closed and pinched my arm-THAT made a nasty bruise!  It all happened so fast after that I am not sure of many of the details.  That may be partly because it happened so long ago and partly that I never wanted to remember.  I knew if I could stay on my feet I would manage but if he got me to the floor I would be done.  So I managed to stay on my feet longer than I thought I would.  He put his arm around my neck at one point and tried to choke me but I pushed backwards and smashed him into the wall.  He said I was a lot stronger than I looked and I said that is only one of many things you didn't know about me!  That seemed to make him angrier.  I don't remember all the things we said to each other, I just knew that I was in trouble. We wrestled.  He won and I was on the floor with him sitting on top of me.  I was afraid then because I knew he was going to hurt me.  He put his knee over my throat at one point and tried to choke me. I tried to diffuse the situation and I tickled him. He did a 180 turn then and decided to be a lovey.  He tried to kiss me and I was not having it.  I'm sorry, you don't get to shove me around the apartment for an hour and then kiss me!!! So I turned my head.  That set him off all over again.  I didn't make the rules you see  I only followed them.  At this point, he grabbed my hair on either side of my head and smashed my head against the floor...I don't know how many times.  The next day my head hurt like hell and I had two black eyes.  At the point of the head smashing I did the only thing I could...I screamed like a girl! LOUDLY!!
He tried to get me to shut up but I would not.  I knew I might end up dead if I didn't do something...if I didn't get some help.  He ran away because he knew the cops would come and he was an habitual criminal.  He didn't want to go back to jail.  I went to a neighbour downstairs to borrow the phone and call my mother.
I hate to think about the life I was in that brought me to that point.  I also hate to think of all the people who loved me seeing a bruised and swollen me.  I could have died.
It's very hard to think about even now and that was 19 years ago now. 

Piling wood.

{Post 77/365: Original Post: FEEL ME}
This week my mom & pop (step-father) are working on getting their wood for the wood stove which is their main source of heat for the year, chopped and piled.
So this weekend we went over for a little bit of time both Fri and Sat to help them. Pop cut up chunks off the logs with his chain saw, I moved them over to a smile pile in between them so they could reach them for splitting easier, and hubby and pop each took an axe and chopped up the chunks into smaller bits for the woodpile. Then mom, Gib and I would pick up the small pieces and throw them onto the one big pile. Mom & pop will move all those with the truck or van later in the fall.
It's a lot of work! 
It brings to mind a time long ago when I was a kid and almost the whole family was over to my nanny and grandpa's to help them pile their woodpile for winter.  Grandpa and some of my uncles had done the chopping and big pile process off in the woods and we were transporting it all by truck from the pile in the bush to the pile in grandpa's yard. My cousins and I were all helping and back then it seemed like a lot of fun as I recall.
Looking back at it now I still remember it as fun.  I never minded piling wood and it seems that it was WORK but it was more fun because so many of us were doing it together and helping each other that it was fast and furious and finished in no time!
I enjoyed working with my family back then and I honestly (aside from the cold wind freezing me) didn't mind helping mom & pop this time either. I know times have changed and I am not doing the work I could so many years ago but, I still don't mind sharing the burden and doing what little bit I can to make it an easier and lighter job for my folks.  I love them you know and I know they appreciate the help! ;