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. ❤️

Monday Musings-the lies we tell ourselves

I’m a truthful person I’ve been taught to always be honest but never cruel, to be appreciative and not take things or people for granted. To always speak from my heart instead of inventing a lie. There’s one lie I’ve told myself is that I’m fine. I’m really not when I say that, it’s a easy way of letting the world know I have it together. 

Even though it appears like I do I really don’t, I’m struggling and I hide behind the mask that I present to world. I always think about that quote 

“Be kind to others, because everyone is fighting their own secret battles.”

I am a kind and loving person and I’m raising my children to be this way as well. I teach them to tell the truth, and to let them know they can tell their parents anything. I give them the opportunity to tell the truth first then give consequences if they’re not honest with me. I don’t want them to think it’s ok to tell me they’re fine when they’re not. Or that “I didn’t do it”or “I don’t know broke” the lamp. 

We tell ourselves these lies because it’s hard to face the truth sometimes. But even though it’s an old cliche the truth will set us free. There’s nothing to remember when you tell the truth, there’s nothing that needs to be created when honesty is the best policy. I’m dealing with a situation right now of lies being told. I have given the opportunity to hear the truth but wasn’t given that respect.

 So now there are consequences and disappointment. Why do we have to hide behind a mask of untruths instead of just being honest? Why does it feel better to lie and make ourselves feel better than ripping off the bandaid and exposing ourselves? It’s easier to hide behind a facade then to be real with ourselves. This is a foreign concept for me as I was taught the truth is a positive way to live my life. 

To be lied to is to be disrespected, and the hurt that arises from that is crushing. I don’t need to build myself up with a house of cards where the truth is distorted and I can’t tell what is real or what is not. Whether it happens sooner or later that house of deception comes crashing down around you. Be real, it’s the only way to feel good about yourself don’t build yourself up into being someone you don’t recognize or respect. 

I’m going to start taking my own advice when people ask me how I’m doing I’m not going to say fine. I will tell the truth I’m happy the sun’s shining, I’m struggling but I’m finding a way to cope. I owe it to myself to speak the truth and not hiding behind a mask I’ve created out of fear.  William Shakespeare is one of my favourite poets and playwrights and he spoke the truth when he created this simple but profound quote. 

“To thine own self be true”

It’s time for #Mondaymusings and all you have to do is this list of things. 

Write a post sharing your thoughts with us – happy, sad, philosophical, ‘silly’ even. Make it as personal as possible.
Use the hashtag #MondayMusings and link to this post.
Add your link to the linky which you will find either here and on the post of a co-host.
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Today’s co-hosts are Everyday Gyaan and Tales of Two Tomatoes

  

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Fly to the Angels

What does death mean to you? To me it’s like knowing someone’s in another room and it’s locked up and you lost the key to get in. The room’s surrounded by a brick wall that reaches to the sky and the only access you have is to take a magic carpet ride to an awaiting cloud. Does it signify a ending or a new beginning? I could wax poetic about it for hours yet my feelings still remain the same, that death hurts. It takes someone you love away from you and unravels a stray thread in the fabric of your life. It doesn’t leave you to make a decision of I’m just not ready for you to go or even begin to prepare you for goodbye. Death means I look towards heaven and wonder if you’re up there being reunited with your loved ones. So many to count that passed on before you many years ago and some recent souls. I wish I knew if you were met with such an outpouring of love and depth of emotion that it overwhelmed you when you crossed over. All I know is that I have my memories to hold onto and cherish. How your kindness to my family in our times of grief will never be forgotten. I will never forget our last heart to heart discussion, and how it opened up my eyes to seeing our family tree in truth and technicolour. I wish for you all the things you didn’t have on earth peace of mind, comfort, abundant  health, and the ability to feel freedom. I wish for your family love, comfort, and fond memories of your time with them. And most of all I wish that I could see you again and let you how much you mean to me. Goodye, God bless, and may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

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One Liner Wednesday

I have been struggling lately with death, mortality, and grief. I live honestly and my pain is broadcast through my emotions. Sometimes I think I should hide more and feel less, but this moment put all my fears to rest. My preschooler son saw my tears and just wiped them away and said “Mom who hurt your heart?” I was so overcome with emotion I hugged him tight and said “life did, but you’re healing it honey.” ❤️

This has been my submission to Linda G Hill One Liner Wednesday. I didn’t have anything funny to share so today I shared something heartfelt. Please check out all the talent that link up. Thank you. 💕

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My broken heart

I just don’t know why cancer has to come into your life and rip your heart out. My experience knowing someone that has this illness was when I was a little girl. My Mom’s cousin had bone cancer, and I remember it being talked about in hushed tones. I went to see her in the hospital and everyone was there praying with her. I knew this was the end of her journey, and I was so scared because I couldn’t help her. Then my step Grandma who I saw in the hospital and then back in the home of my Dad and step Mom was towards the end of her life. I sang at her funeral and I felt like my heart was being twisted in a vice, as I looked at my step Mom and her sisters faces. I couldn’t imagine the pain of losing a Mother, but I felt every shred of theirs. Then time passed on and my Aunt (my step Mom’s sister) was diagnosed. It happened so quickly and it was a losing battle. I remember visiting her in the hospital and listening to her crying out in pain while I sat there by her bedside and prayed for her relief. Then it was my Dad who had two diagnosis’ of lymphoma back in 2007 and 2008. My Captain had just turned one years old when I got that dreaded phone call. I remember it like it was yesterday, dropping the phone, huddling on my bathroom floor my body rocked with my sobs. My Dad was the bravest man I’ve ever known, and he fought valiantly till the end. He has come to the city and did his radiation. Before he stayed with us he wanted to know if the affects would cause my son or us any harm. He was afraid he’d be glowing from the exposure and in his words “lit up like a Christmas tree.” We spent that week together and he would go for treatment in the morning and come back and nap I’m the afternoon. He’d wake up in time to play with his Grandson and they’d giggle and give each other nose kisses. That week is still so precious to me, and I remember it like it was yesterday. We celebrated my Captain’s birthday, and stayed up late and ate lots of cake, then drank tea and wine. I saw the sunsets and sunrises with my Dad laughing, talking, and crying. He got to see my son walking and saying his first jumble of words. I watched him be brave, in the face of this monster taking over his body. I saw how strong my step Mom was being, when my Dad would be in pain or cold from the affects of this disease. I’d see a look of worry and a furrow in her brow and it would quickly be replaced with sadness. Now to fast forward through radiation and chemo and my Dad was having his birthday and he got that call he was in remission. It was such a happy and blessed day. I remember coming home after a workshop to hear the fantastic news. Happiness was short lived as he went travelling to visit relatives and he got sick. I know he knew that this was the last stop on the road of life. He came home and much to our chagrin, to be diagnosed again. I got that phone call shortly before Halloween from my brother, and I raged, cried, and screamed. I was told I had to remain calm because Dad was going to call me, it sounded like I was in a tunnel when I heard the conversation. I remember in the summer taking the trip to the city, his appointment with the oncologist, the MRI, his name going on the experimental cancer treatment list at number 3,147. The number still etched in my brain so many years later. How could this be? It’s not possible how can his remission only last 3 months?! Well the answer came back after my Dad’s amazing Dr asked the same questions I had. There was a spot on the MRI that was missed, and just like that my world plunged into the depths of despair. My Dad was proactive and said he’ll just do chemo again and then was told by his the cancer clinic he wasn’t a candidate for a second treatment regimen. Luckily his Dr didn’t expect that so she called in favours and pulled strings, and got him to another hospital in another province. I thank God for her strength and tenacity because she gave him one more Christmas with his family. I will forever be grateful that she did that for us all . We weren’t ready to say goodbye, we never ever would be. I spent that last Christmas and nearly a month with my Dad and step Mom until he was hospitalized again. It was the scariest thing to wake up and know this was the beginning of the end for my one and only Dad. And when I was told there was no hope, I battled back and said no one could put a sentence on the power of the human spirit. That next month I spent as much time on the phone with my Dad as I lived away from him. He had his phone always busy with all six of his children. That phone call I was praying never would come, and yet it did. My Dad had taken a turn for the worst. So back we went in the frigid winter to visit for one last time. We had four days with him and he got to spend time with all his family. His brother, nephew, and his fiancée made the trip, and the phone never stopped ringing in his room. I remember seeing this beautiful painting on the wall of this hospice room. A garden overflowing with flowers and a white archway beckoning you in. I looked at the picture and saw its beauty, and I grew more angry and disillusioned looking into this heaven like image. I wanted my Dad to not go gentle into that good night. Please just rage, rage, against the dying of the light. Here I quote one of my all time favourite poems by Dynan Thomas. Who wrote this work of poetic art when his own Father was dying. I was there when the pain became too much as this monster cancer grew and took over my Dad’s body. The nurse administered a subcutaneous pain patch and then later a PSP morphine pump. I watched and I prayed and I held my Dad’s hand all day. Then one by one my siblings were there each taking their turn to say their goodbyes. The worst sound I’ve ever heard is when the morphine medication empties. The excruciating sound of the alarm still rings in my ears to this day. As we were all exhausted and numb with impending grief we slept where we dropped. I took my uncle and my nephew to my in laws home. I couldn’t have them sleeping standing up as my Dad would’ve said. I don’t remember sleeping that night, but there I was running in my dream. Running blind, running scared, wanting to cry, wail, but I didn’t dare wake up a sleeping household. My son hadn’t seen me all day, as I couldn’t leave my Dad’s side. So I got up out of bed and watched my son as he slept and I knew in that moment I would never let him forget his Geedo. The phone call came into the house and my husband answered it. I knew the minute I heard the ring, that this was goodbye. So my husband took my Uncle and my nephew to the hospital as I held my son so tight. I had to explain why I was crying because I couldn’t see my Dad anymore, and I wouldn’t again. And in his profound knowledge he said Geedo is an angel and I would be ok. I’m still in awe of that moment in time when myself as the parent became childlike. And also when I sang at my Dad’s funeral how I felt uplifted in the power of song, and fought through my grief to not lose it. And now as the night has come to a close, cancer has touched my life again As I say goodbye to a dear cousin, who has been taken much to soon. My heart hurts as family we’re all left feeling saddened in this surreal, shocking state. So I implore you hug your loved ones, and never let an opportunity pass by where they don’t know of your love. As God only lends us them for a given time, and will call them home again one day.

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