Sunday, January 8

Into The Future...

I'm afraid of dying.

Ever since Melissa died, I think of dying every day. I'm terrified that I will be hit by a truck...and vanish. Vanish from my children's lives, from their memories, from their hearts.

I worry about their lives without me in it.

I worry about them being "haunted" by my memory. What snapshots of me will they remember? What will they hold close? What will slip through their fingers? What will they be left with?

I'm scared that they will face hard times, that they will be on their knees, and I won't be there to help them up. I won't be there to catch their tears.  I won't be there to cheer their successes. I won't be there to hold their babies. And they will resent me, or God, or their father.

I'm "haunted" by my grandmother. There is so much that I don't know about her. So much that I will never know about her. Her favourite song. Her favourite place. What she thought about various things that happened in her life. Things that I never thought to ask her...

I sit in my cozy kitchen as I write this. The afternoon sun is pouring in. Music is on in the background. The children are playing happily in the living room. Everything is...nice. All I can think is that too soon this moment will be "a long time ago".

One day, my daughters will read this blog, hoping to gain insight into their lives, and into my life. I hope that they find what they are looking for. I hope they find evidence that I adore each of them. That they are the best things that ever happened to me. And that every day is made wonderful simply because I am able to be in their lives. And if I get hit by a truck tomorrow, I hope that I have imprinted their hearts sufficiently that they just know that my love for them doesn't stop when my heart does. It's forever.

P.S. Just for reference, my favourite song is "Baby Blue" by George Strait.

Thursday, January 5

The Year of Nature

I live in suburban Hell.

All the houses look the same. White front doors, two cars in the driveway, and a tree on the small patch of yard out front. Each house has a 7' fence, cordoning off their own little plot of land. It's a relatively new development, so there are only a few gardens. When I stand on my porch with my back touching my front door, I can see 64 sets of windows that over look me. SIXTY-FOUR!

It drives me crazy that the other four people that I live with have no issue with this suburban Hell. The cookie-cutter approach to life works wonderfully for them. Just do what everyone else does. Don't call attention to yourself. Your value is measured by what others think of you. Keep your mouth shut and your head down.

I have had enough.

In 2012, I am going to help my children to be less suburban. I have decided to teach my children about Nature. I want them to learn that their food doesn't actually come from the grocery store. I want them to learn how plants grow. What they need to survive and thrive. I want them to learn about farming. I want them to see a cow being milked, a pig in a sty, and chickens. Not like at a petting zoo. It's important for me that my children are exposed to agriculture. I told myself that I will do anything in my power to assist my daughters in understanding the world around them. Having compassion for, and an interest in, wildlife. I felt happy, and thrilled a little at the prospect. Kinda nervous about finding a farm to visit, but eager about us examining Nature.

And the Bethie ask for a fish.

She wants a fish to love and watch and occasionally feed, but otherwise ignore. She wants a fish so I have one more soul to worry about, one more soul to pick up after, one more soul to feed. ain't cheap. Well, the fish are, but all the stuff you need to maintain the fish are really expensive. Dan said that I need to buy a minimum of a 10 gallon aquarium. I'm not at all sure how much a gallon is, much less ten of them, but I'm guessing it's gonna be bigger than a fish bowl.

So, I'm off to check out fish. Because, apparently, having a fish is my first step down the road to "Nature". Not quite how I imagined it...