Jsack's Mom's Blog

Welcome to my blog where I share my special needs parenting journey with my heart, truth, and love, one story at a time. ❤️

Irish in my heart

I’m fortunate as I grew up knowing and learning about my Irish heritage. I loved listening to the stories of my ancestors from my Gram and her sisters. Four of my Gram’s siblings came off the boat with their parents, for dreams of a better life. After the devastation of the Great Potato famine of 1845-1849 my Great Great Grandparents and their kin, survived and without them I wouldn’t be here today to tell this story.

Michael and Elizabeth left Scotland at the age of nineteen and traveled by ship to South Hampton, England. At the time, they had three daughters and a son in tow. With competition for jobs, financial security, and food being scarce with the population boom, they made their way to Canada and settled in British Columbia.

My Great Grandparents *image courtesy of my cousin*

My Great Grandfather Michael found work in the mines and was there for twenty-nine years. They hadn’t lived there in the community long when devastation ravaged the town with floods from 1848, to 1947, the mining disaster in May of 1908 that killed one hundred and three miners, and the Great Fire of August. 1 st of 1908 that destroyed the town.

My Great Grandma Elizabeth was pregnant with my Grandma Margaret and due to give birth that hot summer. There were ten lives lost and thousands of homes burnt to the ground. There was a lot of hardship and sadness that my ancestors had to encounter in the new land. I’m happy to report my Gram made it safely into the world as the hospital and the church were the few buildings that were left.

Time passed on with my Gram and her siblings growing up and their parents had added on to their family with four more daughters. More hardship would come to the family as the mine would be closed in order to investigate the fire of 1908. My Great Grandpa Michael had to find work elsewhere. All the daughters worked as well or helped look after the youngest children.

My Great aunts such lovely lasses. *image courtesy of my cousin*

That was the life back then, everyone had a strong work ethic and supported one another. I remember my sweet Gram Margaret telling me stories of her housekeeping days, collecting oranges at the train yard, and working as a caddy at the golf course. The sisters all went on to marry and have families of their own. They still remained close as they raised their children and visited each other when they were Grandparents.

My Gram and 3 of her 5 sisters *image courtesy of my cousin*

A tragic accident in 1917, took the life of the youngest family member Josephine and she died at the age of two, with severe burns to the chest and abdomen. Poor baby girl lighting up the world with her beauty and smile, and for her life to be snuffed out like a candle is so sad. Peter, the only son of nine children returned home from World War 1 and fell ill as well. He succumbed to cerebral meningitis at the age of twenty-six on March. 17th 1922.

He was to sing in the St. Patrick’s day concert that evening for the Knights of Columbus, and he sat up in bed and sang then died. The song that he sang was Danny Boy, a beautiful Irish melody that is dear to my heart to this day.

My Great uncle *image courtesy of my cousin*

After the youngest daughter and only son had passed just 5 years my Great Grandma Elizabeth became ill. My Grandparents were set to get married in the summer month of July and Elizabeth passed 9 days before the wedding. Instead of the church wedding that was planned they quietly got married in the priests rectory of the Holy Family Catholic Church.

My parents got married there as well and my middle sister followed suit and my husband and I proudly married there after. As a devout Irish Catholic family that attended mass every Sunday and invited the priest over for dinner after one of my Great aunts went into the sisterhood. She took the name Sister Michael and lived out her young life devoting herself in service to God.

She passed tragically in a car accident when I was a little girl and my Gram would tell me stories about her love of the family and of the church. There was always tears and hugs given when she spoke of her siblings that had passed on.

My Great aunt Elizabeth and her Father Michael *image courtesy of my cousin*

I celebrate my dearly departed loved ones memories and I carry on the namesake of my Great Grandma, my Great aunt, and my Mom. My Great Grandpa Michael lived on to see his daughters marry and meet his Grandchildren. My Mom had a special relationship with him and would speak of him with joy on her heart. He passed on well into his 80’s to be reunited with his lovely wife and daughters and son.

My Gram and my Mom *image courtesy of my cousin*

My Gram and Mom always said I had the gift of my Great uncle’s vocal talent. To this day when I sing the song of my ancestors homeland Oh Danny Boy I feel uplifted on their angel wings. St. Patrick’s day is celebrated in our family household as much as the joy of birthdays. Wishing you all Irish blessings and may the luck and love of the Irish be with you always. 💚☘️

An adapted version of this story originally appeared on The Wellness Universe titled Irish heritage.

*Special thanks to my cousin Maureen for the use of her family pictures. The late night chats of our family’s story helped me feel closer to my Irish clan.*

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The Tear

What is it about the passage of time? I’ve heard that time heals all wounds, time passes on and time is short. It’s that tear in the fabric of time that intrigues me the most. Where you can be another version of yourself-someone who is stronger and makes better decisions and takes a different path in life.

Like the actress Gweneth Paltrow played in the movie Sliding doors her character was on the subway platform deciding if she should or shouldn’t get on the train. The director portrayed what would happen with her life if she stepped on the subway and who she was and who she interacted with.

It really fascinated me with the twists and turns within the plot of the movie. It showed me that you do have to be careful what you wish for. As I’m watching this the character in my favourite TV show #Thisisus is replaying the memory track of what his life was like before when he was a high school football star and adored by everyone. Kevin had colleges scouting him, a girlfriend who loved him and a close relationship with his family. Then it all came to a crashing end when he was tackled in the big game and suffered a broken leg.

He still had the beautiful girlfriend (who he would later go on to marry and divorce), a strong bond with his fraternal twin sister Kate, an emerging relationship with his adopted brother Randall, and his parents Jack and Rebecca that were there to love and support him to this jagged tear to his football dreams. Yet Kevin can’t see past any of that as he sinks into a depression that goes on to shadow his life in his current phase.

What would’ve his life been like if he avoided that devastating hit that changed his path forever? Would he have gone on to football stardom and become the proud recipient of the Heisman trophy, married the girlfriend and lived happily ever after? Even though he’s a television character Kevin and his life story is enthralling to me that he went onto to what appeared to be a good life making a successful living as an actor while recovering from the death of his Father, the rock in his life.

How would his life be any different if he would’ve just thrown the football, avoided the tackle and never have to lose his Dad at such a young age? It’s the conundrum I’m sure most of us have encountered at some point on our path what if I would’ve taken that subway train, stayed with the ex or gotten that scholarship to college. It’s the tearing of the dream that we have for ourselves that can hurt the most where we feel the regrets of time we’ve lost and where the what if’s eat us up inside.

Is the grass always greener over on the other side of the fence? Not necessarily, should we all just be living the life of our dreams with no regrets or resentments? I’ve always intended to raise my sons to follow their dreams, reach for the stars and be kind and giving human beings. It’s the life that we live that shows us who are true character really is. Excepting the hand we’re dealt and taking the leap of faith and being who we’re really meant to be that matters the most.

I saw myself becoming a famous actress and singer entertaining the world with my talent. Unfortunately I didn’t have the courage to pursue those idealistic dreams and leave my parents and go off to the big city. I didn’t believe in myself as much as I should’ve and that tears at my heart still today. But who am I to say that my dreams shall just wither and die? I can still realize them just in a different way, by performing in theatre and pursuing my passion for storytelling.

It’s the gift of words that sets my heart aflutter now as I’m passing on that love of reading and writing to my sons. It fills my eyes with happy tears as I sit and listen to my youngest champion son reading about Pete the Cat and his buttons as he acts and sings out every page. When I thought his brain might not be able to make sense of the letters with his autism and mental processing speed. Then as my heart swells with pride when my oldest rock star son starts reading me an essay that he’s writing for school and telling me he wants to be a writer like me when he’s older.

I wish for them not to struggle with their identities or what direction they should go career wise like I’ve done. To be able to avoid the “hits” that happen in life the fair weather friends, bullies on the playground, and young love breakups. If I could I’d protect them from it all but then they wouldn’t be truly living and discovering the world for what it is. Their time shouldn’t be spent wondering what if but really experiencing all that life has to offer them from school, friendships, love, and beyond!

It’s in these moments that I know I found the right path and even though my mind can wonder about the what if’s of the world it’s the life that I’m living being the best me I can be that matters. Not the one who made her way to Hollywood to become the actress of her dreams who may have caved in to all the pressure that a lot of celebrities fall under and resorted to drugs and alcohol as a way to cope.

I would rather be my authentic self who loves who I see when I look in the mirror, that prays with my children every evening for a better world for them to grow up in, and loves my husband with everything in me. That’s the bond of family that dreams, pride, fantasies, or ego can never tear away.

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Ten things of thankful-missing my Mom

I’ve been writing all day, furiously scribbling and typing out my feelings. Today is a day I dread more than ever the anniversary of my Mom’s death. I cry, write, read stories we wrote together, and listen to her favourite Elvis music. Two weeks ago I shared my list of thankfuls for my dear Dad. Today I will share about my Mom. She was my gift and I will love and miss her till my last breath. I’m proud to share my memories and thankfulness on the TTOT linkup with Lizzi and her ever faithful thankful family.  

 I’m so thankful that my Mom decided to have me her sixth child and third daughter. She was older yet I think she knew that I was meant to be. I was sickly when I was born so I’m thankful I got to spend that extra week in the hospital bonding with her. She would tell me stories of how I would look up at her as she fed me with this baby face and bright blue eyes of wonder. 

I’m thankful that she taught me the magic of books and how to read. My life has been full of all the adventures I’ve taken myself on with my love of words and wonderful memories. I loved when she would read to me and change the inflection of her voice and turn a story book into an interactive experience. 

I’m thankful for her beautiful smile even when she was tired as I wasn’t much of a sleeper as a child. She would read to me and T ell me stories she’s made up on the spot. She was so loving, kind, caring and an amazing story teller. She loved her children and Grandchildren with all her being. She was proud to show off pictures that graced her walls and upright piano. As beautiful as she was she just glowed when she held a child on her lap. 

I’m thankful for her brilliance. She wanted to be a teacher but she didn’t want to leave her parents to go away to study. She was very close to them as their only child. So instead she worked around town, met my Dad and fell in love. First came marriage, and many baby carriages and she had herself a full family to teach. 

  
I’m thankful for her gift of laughter. She could always find the humour in something. She would look for the silver lining and say this too shall pass sadness doesn’t always last. She had a beautiful laugh that would rise up from her toes and she’d slap her knee in emphasis. She taught me how to impersonate characters on tv and in the movies. I would get her into a fit of giggles when I’d do my Tim Conway impression from the Carol Burnett show. 

I’m thankful for all the times she let me stay up late watching old black and white movies with her. We’d have tea and treats and is watch the classics with her like Gone with the Wind, Citizen Kane, and every Elvis movie we could find. She had quite a collection of his movies that I’m proud to covet today. Our favourite was always his first Love me Tender and I sing it for her when I’m lonely for her presence. 

I’m thankful for my memories of singing and doing the dishes with her. She even made a mundane task like that fun. We would sing all the Irish classics and she’d dance a jig  around the kitchen. My heart would leap out of my chest as I joined her twirling around until I was dizzy with love and enthusiasm. 

I’m thankful for her talent of writing. She was so gifted with her thoughts and expressions and we collaborated on many stories together while in school and after I graduated. She would also make up silly poems and limericks and keep me in stitches with how funny she could be in real life and on paper. 

  
I’m thankful she taught me to be brave and follow my dreams. It’s because of her guidance that I started writing and sharing my heart here on the page. She guides me still and I write for her always in my mind and spirit. 

I’m thankful she was my biggest cheerleader and my sounding board. I could and did tell her anything. She knew I could see and feel things about people and never made me feel like I was weird. With  being empathic in a very sensory overloaded world was a gift and cross to bear that we both shared. She was my guiding light, truth seeker, lover of people, compassionate, kind, and had the strongest love and faith in God. She gave her heart to those who were deserving. And a piece of her intelligent mind to those who were not. 

I’m thankful I’m a Mom myself and I still wonder in situations what would she do or say. There will never be a day I won’t wish for her presence in my life. I have my memories and pictures, but most of all I can look in the mirror and see her there. As well as glowing  with love and pure divine light in my children. Love you always and forever Mama. ❤️

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Christmas traditions

Hello my name is Jsackmom and I’m a “Christmasholic” There I finally admitted it, I get very excited about the prospect of celebrating as I’ve always been fascinated with the magic of Christmas. I remember traditions from when I was a little girl and being at my Grandparents with their ceramic tree with plastics lights all lit up. 
It would sit on the china cabinet looking so tiny but beautiful, while I sat on the floor looking up at those lights twinkling in the evening glow. We would help my Mom and Gram prepare for dinner and get our pyjamas on then my sister and I would get our snack ready for Santa with our Mom’s help. We would put out the homemade shortbread cookies, carrots for the reindeer, and a cup of nice tea to wash it down with. My Gram would help us hang our stockings on the towel rod in the kitchen while my Grandpa looked on with a mischievous smile.
 You see those stockings were his socks that he loaned to my sister and I. Next we would go off to the living room and magically there would a present there on the floor for each of us. We would open it up knowing each year it would be the same, pyjamas, slippers, or a house coat. We didn’t care though it was the excitement of getting to open a gift on Christmas Eve that made the holiday more special. 
We would sit on the couch in our new sleepwear and sip on our hot chocolates while we sang Christmas carols and then my Mom and Gram would tell us the Christmas story of baby Jesus and the Nativity. I had always loved the story and still tell it to my children as our tradition. Then we would get sleepy, rubbing our eyes, and toddle off to bed. My sister would have the couch and I would have the blue cot that folded out. My Gram would push the coffee table up close do I wouldn’t roll out of bed. 
Sleep would find me late into night as the visions of sugar plums, turkey with all the trimmings, and toys to be had, would dance in my head. The next morning I would be bouncing around waking up my sister as I was delirious with excitement and more of a tough and tumble Tom girl than sliver bells and cockleshells and we would race to the kitchen to open our stockings. We would dig in and find candy, nuts, mandarin oranges, tiny little doll toys, and whatever else Santa could stuff in a men’s sock! 
Next we would go to the living room and see what else Santa brought us. There would be a Barbie for my sister and I would have a doll complete with accessories of a hair brush, bottle, and outfit. We would also open clothes, books, more candy, and always a religious item of a holy statue. My Mom always made sure we put the Christ in Christmas as to never forget the true meaning of the holiday. 
We would say Grace and have a hearty breakfast as we would go off to our relatives to visit and play with our toys with our cousin. We would always have baking, copious pots of tea, and plenty of singing and dishwashing. We would return back to my Grandparents while my Grandpa would shovel the sidewalk and make his strong coffee in his special pipe whistle cup afterwards. We would help in the kitchen preparing dinner as my four other siblings would join the festivities. My Gram and Mom would fill the coffee table full of appetizers, fruit cake, cookies, a mixture of nuts, hard candy, and liquorice. 
The teapot would never be empty long and we would start preparing to set the table while setting up in the living room with my Gram’s fine Christmas China that would be laid out on the table. There would be at least ten people there and my Gram would say the blessings and my Grandpa would carve the turkey. I would marvel at all the delicious food and watch one of my brothers say “pass the buns” while my other brother would throw him down one at the end of the table. I would laugh and have my bowl of tossed salad mixed with croutons and olive oil. I loved how my Gram would make that for me. 
My plate would be heaping with mounds of mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, Brussels sprouts, veggies, dark turkey meat, a little gravy, and I would eat my weight in my Gram’s homemade stuffing. After we would clear the table, drink tea, and enjoy pumpkin and lemon meringue pies. My Mom loved the lemon so it was always a staple at the dinner table. After us kids would go out to the foyer and play and have our pictures taken on the steps to the upper floor in the apartment building. 
Then the night would wind down, my older siblings would leave for home, and my sister and I would be getting ready for bed in our new Christmas pyjamas. We would lay there as sleep would come quickly after a fulfilling and wonderful day. We would fill that tiny two bedroom apartment with presents, laughter, decorations, Santa with his sleigh full of toys, and most of all the presence of our love for each other. As we got older and Santa came to the houses of younger children we would go to midnight mass with my Mom and Gram.
 I remember seeing the church’s alter glowing with all the lights. I would listen to the priest speak of that first Christmas Eve when baby Jesus was born in Bethlehem. Then the choir would rise up in voices of pure love and sing O little town of Bethlehem. My voice would ring out with them feeling exalted on high like nothing could touch me, as my spirit was raised to the heavens. I wept in those moments as my earthly vibration would thunder through my body like I was floating. There was magic in the air on that night and I’ve never felt more loved or connected to God, Saints, and all his angels. Being raised that way was a gift, and one I will continue with my children as they grow in the love and spirit of Christmas. To think it all started with that one little ceramic tree perched up high. 

Stock photo provided by the internet

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Ten Things of Thankful

I’ve had a busy weekend up before the sun and back after sunset. My son had a hockey tournament and I found so many things to be grateful for in this weekend alone! It’s been a long week that had my kids and I sidelined with the flu bug. In that time I felt sorry for mysel and had to look for things to be grateful for. I’m glad that in my fever hazed and sick days that I was able to see a silver lining in the grey clouds. Tome to wrap up my week with The TTOT linkup

I’m thankful for cuddles with my children. There’s something about the vulnerability of a child when they just need their Mama to help them to feel better. 

I’m thankful for my oldest son looking after me when I fell prey to the flu germs infesting our home. He was on his way to recovery but still needed to rest. So he set up movies for his little brother, made me some tea and watched over me while I slept. God bless him and his beautiful loving heart. 

I’m thankful for finally feeling better after not being sick since a year ago! Then it was my youngest son’s turn luckily it was a fast acting flu bug and he got rid of it quickly. He was so weak and exhausted and he spent most of his time sleeping. I was so glad when his fever broke and he was able to keep down some food. My poor sweet boy was so grateful for Mama cuddles as was I. 

I’m thankful for a family road trip. There’s always music, laughter, and yes even some fighting between my son’s. Yet it’s the conversations that take place that are the most special way to get to know what each other’s thinking. 

I’m thankful for sunrises that take my breath away. There’s nothing more spectacular than seeing God’s graciousness in the colourful tapestrys of beauty. 

 I’m thankful for the clouds that roll in to signify the end of the day and turn into a stunning sunset. Beautiful like a treasured artwork painted by God’s paintbrush. 

I’m thankful for strong little hockey players that put there all into playing their game. My son’s team finished up in third place after two wins and one loss. They passed, played, and held themselves with pride and did everyone in that arena  a service of watching their hearts on display. 
I’m so proud and thankful that the coaches recognized my son for the heart and hustle award for the second year in a row! He was so excited to show me his certificate and hockey puck. 

 I’m thankful for a fun but hectic weekend. There was so upset and meltdowns to deal with due to my son’s special needs and crowds of people can be hard for him to process. He knew that I would be there for him and protect him when needed. 
I’m thankful for pizza pool parties with a bunch of happy hockey players, and taking turns trying to out splash each other on the water slide. After all that was said and done soaking in the hot tub was the best gift of the day. 

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Book review for How to Reach Your Writing Goals Like a Pro-by Author M.C. Simon

  
I love books, reading, collecting, and sharing stories about them. I thought I would challenge myself and start writing one. I signed up with the masses for Nanowrimo (also known as National November Writing Month). I was so excited and started out writing out my large word count each day. I was also busy with my theatre schedule and then there was a death in my family. 
The loss sent me into a tailspin as death doesn’t always bring out the best in family’s. My writing project was put on hold as I made the phone calls to spread the sad news.I continued throwing myself into busyness so that I didn’t have to feel the pain. My writing of my novel came to a stand still and I wrote other words of poetry and how to deal with my grief. I was very fortunate to come across M.C.Simon earlier when I was lucky enough to win one of her books Feng Shui for writers. 

  

Amazon Buy Link-Available in both paperback and Kindle versions



I picked up my kindle app and started it reading again to give me inspiration than I realized after checking my email she had a new book out I signed up to beta read for. So I got busy and started reading. This book was the answer to my prayers to help me focus on my novel again. M.C. Simon offers clear, concise, steps to reach your self publishing goals. 

  
I was so excited to read and absorb all the information presented before me. She covers everything from setting yourself up as a writer with website, social media links, and the tips on how to use Amazon Create Space. The most amazing thing that M.C. writes about is understanding how Universal energy works. You put the best out to there in the world and the best will come back to you. There’s nothing more special than reading something where you feel the author wrote it specifically for you. This is how I feel with everything M.C. writes, that it’s just for me. 

Genre: Non-fiction 

Book Blurb:
HOW TO REACH YOUR WRITING GOALS LIKE A PRO is your Step by Step Guide for becoming a Self-Published Author.
This book provides all the proven steps that you need to plan your success and see your writing goals fulfilled. It will not only help with your writing goals but if you adapt the procedures described within this book to all your life goals, you will soon become a Master of your own life.

Amazon Buy Link-Available in both paperback and Kindle versions

REACH YOUR WRITING GOALS LIKE A PRO


Will address those who feel that writing is their calling but still don’t have the confidence to do it.

Will show you how to find your answers to: who, what, when, why, and how?
Will give you the boost to overcome all your worries and finally start what should have already been started.
Will prove to you that the road you wish to step onto is not as hard as you may think, or as difficult as others have convinced you of being.
Will show you how by following a good plan, you will finally see your book published from ground zero. Meanwhile, you will learn to enjoy each accomplished phase. And most of all… you will learn to relax while you are working for your goals.
I know she reaches more than just me by the number one best selling status that she has on Amazon. Her system works and she’s living proof of it as her background is in engineering and project management. I loved reading about her story of how her journey came to be. She worked in her chosen career field for years and felt her calling. She knew nothing about writing a book or being published. She’s a wise woman and set out to do her research. What she found gave her the purpose she needed to be a writer. With this knowledge, tenacity, and love of her dream and Fengshui for Writers was born. 

This book came into my life the day I signed up for a publishing workshop. I was nervous that I had made a big mistake and I was in over my head. I was trying to convince myself to cancel my accepted invitation then I came across an email saying open me. I did and it was the lovely author informing of my win in a book release party I had attended. 

I immediately replied to her request to get the book and thanked her for rescuing me from my self doubt. We all have those moments in life when negative tapes play in our heads of “you’re not good enough.” It’s a sad state of affairs when we just give into those naysayers and believe them and live with the heartache and eventual heartbreak of not pursuing our dreams. 

I’m determined not to let that happen to me, so with M.C.’s support, and knowledge, I break free from these chains of doubt, shaken self esteem, and negative cycle and look out literary world I’m a force to be read and acknowledged.  Thanks to this amazing and talented author who taught me to believe in myself again. I’m so grateful that divine intervention led me to M.C. and my dreams of being author will come true. 
  


About the Author

M.C. Simon (Author)

Writer, translator, engineer, researcher, project manager, blogger, eternal student… these are only a few words to describe M.C. Simon.
Contact the Author:

Amazon Author Page

Blog
Twitter
Writers Website

Facebook Fan Page
Google Plus
Linked In

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My little box of memories

I like to think I’m a juxtaposition of a person I can be soft and gentle with my words and actions, and tough and hard when I feel I’m wronged. I was raised to be strong, speak my mind, and stand up for myself. My parents recognized a tenacious spirit in me when I was very young. I have been a right fighter most of my life. Now I ask myself do I want to be right, or do I want to be happy? 

As a child I could stay awake for hours on end while my poor Mom was sleep deprived and living on pots of cast iron tea to function. This is when four tea bags are added to a tea pot and left to steep all day. My Dad worked long hours as a logger and he would be up getting ready for his work day at midnight. I would still be wide awake partying in my crib. 

He would come into my room and tell me it was time to go to sleep and I would wail even louder. As I got older his attempts to put me to bed became more futile as I had language and comprehension. I would say “Daddy you just go away and mind your own business!”He would walk out shaking his head and say “that bloody kid is lucky she’s cute!”

These are the memories I store in my memory box in my mind. My parents died awhile ago and pictures I have in my memory bank are all I have left. I rely on my older siblings recounts of my childhood and a box of slides to preserve these precious moments in time. I remember when I was young how much I loved to set up the projector to have a slide show as all the happy times came to life on the white sheet pinned to the wall of the living room. The pictures would paint a lively account of the trips we took, birthday parties, baseball games, weddings, and church events. 

Now I store my memories in a special box that keep on my beside table. Inside are pictures of my loved ones,their funeral Mass cards, poems, prayers, and trinkets that they gave me. I have the first story that I ever wrote with my Mom and the first song I wrote for her. I have my Dad’s pins from Lion’s club that he was proud to be a member of for over 30 years. I have a pair of earrings and necklace set from my Gram and Grandpa that they gave me for my graduation, and a old travel sewing kit of my Grandpa’s from the war.

 Each time someone I love passes on I add to this little box. It helps me perserve the love I have for them and keep them alive in my heart. I take them out from time to time when I’m feeling low and in need of a lift from angel wings. I hold them, absorbing the love, energy, and every precious memory I have of my time with them. I feel comforted through my tears as they overcome me with emotion flooding my thoughts, feelings, and actions. 

This little box is my gift I give to myself to pick me up when I stumble and forget how to fly. 
This is a special keepsake that I can pass down to my children when it’s my time to have the special things I’ve given them to place in that box. I’ve written them letters of how I became their Mom and the joy that they have given me with that privilege. As for now I open that box and lovingly hold those memories close to my heart so I will never forget the people who made me who I am today with their presence in my life. I thank them for the gift of their love, light, and guidance. 
  

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Ten Things of Thankful

  
I’m back for another week of thankfuls after missing my chance to post by falling asleep before the linkup expired! You know you’re sleepy when you fall asleep writing. Usually it’s the opposite the words pouring out of my brain to my digital paper keep me awake. Tonight won’t be any different as I replay my week and share my thankful moments positive or negative. Thank you to the TTOT gang to have a place to ruminate, reflect and replay my bucket full of thankfuls. 
This has been a rough week I’ve had a death in my family, four theatre performances, and a lot of appointments. I’ve been emotionally and physically exhausted and fell off my workout scheduled. All I’ve been able to do is exchange it for yoga and meditation. This is the second death to hurt my heart in six months and I feel the need to hide away for awhile and heal my wounds. But alas my life’s not designed in the way so I just take a break from things that I don’t have the energy for. I’m thankful that I’ve realized I can do that without any guilt to weigh me down. 

My son had a polysonogram sleep study last month and I’ve recently got the results that he has severe Obstructive Sleep Apnea. I knew this before the test was done as I’ve been walking this path with him for nearly two years! I’m so thankful that I found someone to help him finally! He was seen by the first ENT who said his tonsils were fine and he just had a long tongue and there wasn’t anything he could do for my son surgically. 

  Fast forward to 7 months later and I know his medication regimen has shrunk his swollen tonsils but he will require surgery. I’m so thankful for the new ENT that will be performing the surgery. His office administrator was amazing to me as she explained the procedures and what to expect before and after surgery. My son will also require further testing of an EKG to rule out seizures, and an MRI to measure his brain size for his developmental challenges. I’ve called these his invisible forces you can’t see them until they come out in his behaviour. Even though my sweet boy has a lot to endure for his tender age of four he still smiles, lives life with a gusto, and loves with all his being! I’m so thankful for his tenacity and inner strength that inspire me daily to be better and advocate more for him and his brother. Life throws me curve balls and I’m thankful that I’ve been able to knock them out of the park. I’m only one Mom with an amazing support team and for that my gratitude is endless. 

I have another passion in life besides reading, writing, and fitness  and that is theatre. I’ve been so blessed to become part of an amazing cast in the  pantomime Beauty and the Beast. We’ve had four performances this week with a sold out show today! I love being part of this very talented cast of all ages with the camaraderie we share on stage and backstage. This is my theatre family who make me laugh, cry, and feel grateful to have this connection. I’m so thankful to be able sing, dance, and entertain and put some happiness in some sad hearts- including my own. 

I’ve been keeping up with my book writing and I joined up for Nanowrimo (National November Writing Month) I’ve enjoyed finding writing buddies to encourage me and my own local region that keep me inspired with my daily word count. I’m thankful that I’ve been able to write out the pain that engulfs me and to let it go in print. Being busy has got me further behind with my word count but I’m thankful that I still have some time to catch up. 

Through all of this worry, stress, and grief I have my family holding me up when I feel I will fall. I stumble from time to time and they’re always there to lift up my heart again. Death is difficult, I don’t see the final goodbye to life as a beginning at first. I need time to process it as I think about all that I’ve lost in the last ten years and I’m overcome with emotion. I’m thankful for these dark nights of my soul as they help me appreciate the sunshine in my life. I would be lost without my loves who are my greatest support and the best cheerleaders to be blessed with. 

I’m thankful for a place to share and I thank you for letting me pour it all out here. I write to make sense of things in my life, and to feel less scared. I truly believe that each story I give birth to helps me to heal one fragment of my heart at a time. For that I’m thankful and feel so blessed. 

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Writer’s Quotes Wednesday (late editon) 

It’s my favourite time of the week to link up with a great group over at  Silver Threading‘s house. I apologize for my late edition I got a little sidetracked with the long weekend. Please check all the amazing inspiration and talent there. Happy labour day to you. 😃

   

  

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Writer’s Quotes Wednesdays

Here is my late edition to Silver Threading Writer’s Quotes Wednesday. I couldn’t think up anything last week so I went browsing through my pictures and the words just suddenly came to me. Enjoy and please click on and check out all the talent who link up. Thank you. ❤️

  

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