Ever get the feeling you'd like to just hide out for a while and hope life doesn't find you?
That's what I've been trying to do for the last little bit. But it hasn't worked.
There's always someone or something trying to pull me from my hiding place.
When I want to just pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep, someone coaxes me out.
When I want to just sit here and feel sorry for myself, someone smiles at me and inevitably makes me feel better.
When I'm feeling invisible, the little girl next door shouts hello as I drive by.
I guess it's just not possible to hide out from life, because life always has a way of finding you.
And, ultimately, that's a really good thing.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
What doesn't kill you, just makes you stronger
How many times have I heard that one?
Is it true? Is it really, really true? I'd like to know.
And to make you stronger, does it have to feel like it's going to kill you first?
And how much stronger does it really make you?
Because there are times when it really feels like I won't survive,
but how soon after should I start to feel stronger???
I really need to know.
Is it true? Is it really, really true? I'd like to know.
And to make you stronger, does it have to feel like it's going to kill you first?
And how much stronger does it really make you?
Because there are times when it really feels like I won't survive,
but how soon after should I start to feel stronger???
I really need to know.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Remembering the unthinkable
It's been ten years since the unthinkable happened. I've not wanted to review it, remember it, even think about it... until today. Today it was necessary. Today was a day for prayers, for tears, and for closure. For many people.
Do you remember where you were ten years ago today? I do.
I remember thinking, when I heard people ask that about the day John F. Kennedy was killed, what's that like? Now I know. I could never understand why it would be important to remember where you were during an event like that. Now I do. An event like that changes you. It steals away part of your innocence. And not in an immediately noticeable way, either. Ten years later, however, it is very noticeable.
They say that 20,000 people were saved on that day... we forget that when all we hear about are the 3,000 that perished. I'm not saying we should forget those that died; I'm saying it is important to remember the good that was done on that day, not just the bad.
And so on this the tenth anniversary of the day the unthinkable happened, I say we try and look at the ways in which our world has changed for the better; because in many ways, it has.
Do you remember where you were ten years ago today? I do.
I remember thinking, when I heard people ask that about the day John F. Kennedy was killed, what's that like? Now I know. I could never understand why it would be important to remember where you were during an event like that. Now I do. An event like that changes you. It steals away part of your innocence. And not in an immediately noticeable way, either. Ten years later, however, it is very noticeable.
They say that 20,000 people were saved on that day... we forget that when all we hear about are the 3,000 that perished. I'm not saying we should forget those that died; I'm saying it is important to remember the good that was done on that day, not just the bad.
And so on this the tenth anniversary of the day the unthinkable happened, I say we try and look at the ways in which our world has changed for the better; because in many ways, it has.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Words
Words hold such power.
They have the power to heal, they have the power to give hope, they have the power to comfort, they have the power to thrill.
Yet, they also have the power to hurt deeply. Whether it is intentional or not, sometimes words can really hurt. Sometimes they cut so deeply that they leave me speechless...
They have the power to heal, they have the power to give hope, they have the power to comfort, they have the power to thrill.
Yet, they also have the power to hurt deeply. Whether it is intentional or not, sometimes words can really hurt. Sometimes they cut so deeply that they leave me speechless...
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
When I speak do you hear me?
When I speak, do you hear me? Do you hear what I am not saying?
... because it comes through loud and clear from you.
When I smile, can you feel my warmth?
... because I can feel it from you.
When I am sad, do you feel my pain?
... because I do ache for you.
When you read what I've written, does it feel like I am writing to you?
... because it is for you that I do.
When we're apart, do you miss me?
... because I do miss you.
I like to think that you do, because that would mean that I also matter... to you.
... because it comes through loud and clear from you.
When I smile, can you feel my warmth?
... because I can feel it from you.
When I am sad, do you feel my pain?
... because I do ache for you.
When you read what I've written, does it feel like I am writing to you?
... because it is for you that I do.
When we're apart, do you miss me?
... because I do miss you.
I like to think that you do, because that would mean that I also matter... to you.
Monday, September 5, 2011
On turning one hundred
This year both my maternal grandparents, had they lived that long, would have turned one hundred. I loved them both dearly and miss them both very much. I lost my grandfather when I was just four and my grandmother when I was in my twenties; both too soon in my opinion.
Today would have been my grandfather's birthday. I remember quite a bit about him, considering I was only four when he died. He was a joyful, loving man who would take me down to the corner store whenever we visited to buy me a little bag filled with the candies of my choice. I remember he used to smoke cigars and watch Hockey Night in Canada (or La Soirée du Hockey, as he knew it) and, to this day, the smell of cigar smoke and the sound of the (old) theme song of Saturday night hockey evoke his presence for me. I have a tape recording of part of a family gathering that features his very joyful voice. I doubt very much that without it I would remember what he sounded like, but that recording, too, has the power to bring him back to me when I listen to it.
So on this your hundredth birthday, to you Grandpapa I want to say bonne fête and, nous ne t'oublierons jamais... we will never forget you.
.
Today would have been my grandfather's birthday. I remember quite a bit about him, considering I was only four when he died. He was a joyful, loving man who would take me down to the corner store whenever we visited to buy me a little bag filled with the candies of my choice. I remember he used to smoke cigars and watch Hockey Night in Canada (or La Soirée du Hockey, as he knew it) and, to this day, the smell of cigar smoke and the sound of the (old) theme song of Saturday night hockey evoke his presence for me. I have a tape recording of part of a family gathering that features his very joyful voice. I doubt very much that without it I would remember what he sounded like, but that recording, too, has the power to bring him back to me when I listen to it.
So on this your hundredth birthday, to you Grandpapa I want to say bonne fête and, nous ne t'oublierons jamais... we will never forget you.
.
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