Thank you to all twelve jurors who allowed justice to prevail, thank you to the eye witnesses who finally did the right thing and talked about what they saw to the right people, and most of all thank you to those who were violated and still found the strength to come forward and make sure the evil went away for as long as is humanly possible. Now I hope that they see fit to shut the door on him until the life has left his body, as evil like this can not be rehabilitated. I applaud all that did their job correctly and did the right thing. Finally in this story we have some real hero's instead of Ostriches.
Twenty years ago I found myself in a hospital room, just days after a good friend committed suicide, and shared my story for the first time with my mother. She did not say a word, other than, well I am glad you told me. I told her how I had been abused by a family friend for many years in my childhood, and then latter by my own brother, but instead of holding me, she just said she was glad I told her. A few weeks later I shared the story with my father and at first I felt like he got it, and immediately went on my defence. His response was "what do you want me to do to him?" to which I replied, "nothing, I need to deal with this myself Dad". This did not last long, soon they were on the other side, the side of blame, and soon I realized I was all alone once again. They told me that they could not believe me, as they did not want to lose their two grandchildren, and that they needed to stay neutral. They then went on to blame me for the abuse because when I was 2 and 3 I would go into my brother's room and sleep with them when I was scared or lonely, and that lead to the sexual abuse I would endure when I was 12 by my own brother. That was what I was told, while sitting at my parents dining room table that night after being released from the psych ward after a months stay. And that is where it stayed. They never helped me in any way, they never supported me, and most importantly they never believed me.
Everyone who had ever heard my story had instantly believed me. I told my family doctor, she believed me and tried to find someone to help me deal with all that comes with sexual abuse. I told my two closest friends and they knew right off that the story was true. I told my social worker, and she instantly believed me, and I told the psychologist and he believed me. Finally, after all these people said that I did nothing wrong, that my parents were wrong, I decided that I needed to do something about it. I then decided to go and make a formal complaint with the police. This was so that if anyone should ever come forward who had also been abused by him they would have a record. This was so that I could have the authorities agree that I did nothing wrong and he was the wrong one. I wasn't sure if I was strong enough, but I was willing to give it my best shot.
I spent two afternoons in the police station telling my story to a very sincere, kindhearted police man. He let me take my time telling my story, he sympathized with me, he agreed that my abuser was pure evil, and he apologized that they weren't there for me when all this was happening. He listened to me, he wrote it all down, and he clarified the important points. He jogged my memory when necessary, and he tried to make the most accurate timeline he could. He did this all with kindness in his eyes and made sure I knew he was on my side every step of the way. After those two days and more than 6 hours my testimony was done and they would proceed from there. They would have to do their very best to investigate, but it was going to be challenging as there were no witnesses and it was 13 years ago at this point. They would do their very best, and they would start by questioning him.
He didn't work in Canada at the time, he worked overseas. He came home to his family pretty regularly so they asked my parents to let them know when he had returned to Canada so that they could then get together with him and do their investigation. My parents agreed to let them know, but as it turned out, they never did. He came back to Canada twice and they never let the police know he was home.
The police then took it to the crown and had the crown do a detailed study of the case to determine if they were willing to move forward. If the crown was willing then they could have my brother arrested at the boarder when he entered and then bring him in for questioning. Otherwise their hands were tied. After careful consideration the Crown decided that they didn't feel there was a strong enough case, do to no other witnesses other than myself, and because if they were to prosecute they would have to charge him with the offence like it was in the 70's, the time in which the crime was committed, and the fact was that back then the charge was very small. The Crown decided that because I would have to be put on the stand, and cross examined for several hours, making me once again think that I had done something wrong, just to possibly get a sentence of maybe 6 months probation just didn't seem worth it. They didn't want me to go through it, and they didn't feel that it would serve anyone of us. He would just win again in their minds. They felt bad, so bad that the police officer that informed me of the crowns decision had tears in his eyes, and vowed to keep his eye on him for the rest of his life. He hugged me, and wanted me to know that he believed me, and that it should never have happened to me!
I was left with nothing at the end of it. I told my story, I couldn't see him stand trial for what he did, so I was left without any real justice. A few months later, after being interviewed by the victims compensation board, I was awarded a sum of money to show me that the government believed me, and totally supported me, both financially and emotionally. I was at least given that, but it was small in comparison to having my parents believe me, but that would never happen.
I am so proud of those who dug down and found the strength to take this guy on, and to prosecute him to the full strenght of the law. I am proud of those who survived his brutality, and came out the other side stronger people, who stand up for themselves and told the world, "he did this and we will not stand for it". I am proud that the jurors were brave and did the right thing. I am grateful that all those involved can go to bed tonight knowing that this piece of evil is off the streets forever!
The true test of honor is what you do when no one else is watching!!
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Does my Ass look big in these?
Sometimes I catch myself shaking my head at what some people do.. It's a bit amazing at times.
I find that so many people just share too many of their thoughts....at least the judgemental ones. Seems that if you are judging others they think it's a free comment zone. I don't get it, I don't understand why it's easier for some people to say bad things than it is for them to say good ones.
My dad was pretty good at this. He would point out all your faults but rarely did he ever give a compliment. I remember one time going to see my parents and just after getting settled into a chair to have a chat my dad looks at me and says..."boy, you need to shave that top lip of yours". Yep, no word of a lie. I never heard that he was proud of me, but I sure heard about all the less than perfect things about me, over and over. I am not going to say he was a bad guy, he wasn't, he just had some major defects that damaged the people around him, well not all people, but some.
I remember one time I was downtown doing something. I was probably 15 or 16. While I was walking down the street I came across my great aunt Janet. This is not at all surprising. I came from a small town and our family is very large so you can pretty much count on running into someone you know everywhere you go. As she approached me she said "hi, how ya doin" I answered her with, "not bad and yer self?" At which point she held our her arm and grasped my love handle in her hand and said "well that's a bit bigger since the last time I saw ya". Now I ask you, what do you say to something like that? I have no idea. I am a polite person, being anything but is a challenge for me, so I stuck to the polite side and said "well, you're probably right. Have a good day".
Okay, so maybe it's starting to sound like I come from a bunch of inconsiderate, judgemental, ignorant pricks...well to tell you the truth it is a bit of a family trait. I think for some it just comes natural. I have had the same bug myself. I tease people I like, instead of being sweet and loving. I mean it all in joke, but I catch myself sometimes with the things that come out of my mouth. I'm lucky Damie has gotten used to me, or else I think she would pack her bags from time to time.
I am not all that judgemental. I usually don't even notice things that others judge other by. I have been known to walk into someones house for the first time and not even mention anything about it....I just don't notice things like that. I have had friends who have changed their hair or have something new on and I don't say anything because I don't notice. I am just not that interested.
People judging people has become an epidemic, especially now that we have all this social media. Now the judges can sit in their dark corner in their basement and type all the offensive crap they want to without the fear of repercussion, because they are invisible.
I think if you want to judge people then go ahead, but don't complain to others when you find yourself being judged, for what you do to others has already been done to you. Karma. Don't mask your judgement by stating it's just an observation, no that's not a free pass. Judging is judging, plain and simple. And if you are being judgemental because you think some people are getting away with things they shouldn't, well do something about it. If they truly are, then let someone know. I am so sick of hearing others complain about what others do in their life, and how they are ripping off the system, well until you walk in their shoes you have really no idea what is going on, now do you!
I think it's time to be kinder to one another. Remember, we are all on our own particular path, and even though you may not agree with it, unless someone says "what do you think about this" then don't give us your judgement. But be careful, when a lady asks if these pants makes her ass look big....well you have to answer that question with kindness....not judgementalness! (and yes I did just invent that word)
I find that so many people just share too many of their thoughts....at least the judgemental ones. Seems that if you are judging others they think it's a free comment zone. I don't get it, I don't understand why it's easier for some people to say bad things than it is for them to say good ones.
My dad was pretty good at this. He would point out all your faults but rarely did he ever give a compliment. I remember one time going to see my parents and just after getting settled into a chair to have a chat my dad looks at me and says..."boy, you need to shave that top lip of yours". Yep, no word of a lie. I never heard that he was proud of me, but I sure heard about all the less than perfect things about me, over and over. I am not going to say he was a bad guy, he wasn't, he just had some major defects that damaged the people around him, well not all people, but some.
I remember one time I was downtown doing something. I was probably 15 or 16. While I was walking down the street I came across my great aunt Janet. This is not at all surprising. I came from a small town and our family is very large so you can pretty much count on running into someone you know everywhere you go. As she approached me she said "hi, how ya doin" I answered her with, "not bad and yer self?" At which point she held our her arm and grasped my love handle in her hand and said "well that's a bit bigger since the last time I saw ya". Now I ask you, what do you say to something like that? I have no idea. I am a polite person, being anything but is a challenge for me, so I stuck to the polite side and said "well, you're probably right. Have a good day".
Okay, so maybe it's starting to sound like I come from a bunch of inconsiderate, judgemental, ignorant pricks...well to tell you the truth it is a bit of a family trait. I think for some it just comes natural. I have had the same bug myself. I tease people I like, instead of being sweet and loving. I mean it all in joke, but I catch myself sometimes with the things that come out of my mouth. I'm lucky Damie has gotten used to me, or else I think she would pack her bags from time to time.
I am not all that judgemental. I usually don't even notice things that others judge other by. I have been known to walk into someones house for the first time and not even mention anything about it....I just don't notice things like that. I have had friends who have changed their hair or have something new on and I don't say anything because I don't notice. I am just not that interested.
People judging people has become an epidemic, especially now that we have all this social media. Now the judges can sit in their dark corner in their basement and type all the offensive crap they want to without the fear of repercussion, because they are invisible.
I think if you want to judge people then go ahead, but don't complain to others when you find yourself being judged, for what you do to others has already been done to you. Karma. Don't mask your judgement by stating it's just an observation, no that's not a free pass. Judging is judging, plain and simple. And if you are being judgemental because you think some people are getting away with things they shouldn't, well do something about it. If they truly are, then let someone know. I am so sick of hearing others complain about what others do in their life, and how they are ripping off the system, well until you walk in their shoes you have really no idea what is going on, now do you!
I think it's time to be kinder to one another. Remember, we are all on our own particular path, and even though you may not agree with it, unless someone says "what do you think about this" then don't give us your judgement. But be careful, when a lady asks if these pants makes her ass look big....well you have to answer that question with kindness....not judgementalness! (and yes I did just invent that word)
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
If you step on a crack, you'll break your momma's back!
I was looking at the calender yesterday, and realized two things. One, we move in less than three weeks....which I don't have to tell you is pretty scary, and second our first night there is a Saturday. Why is this important, well it's important to me because my grandmother on my mothers side would never approve of that.
If my grandmother knew our first night in our new home would be on a Saturday, she would be rolling in her grave. She was very superstitious, and Saturday being your first night in a new home is a very very bad thing to do in her books. She believed you could move your stuff in, but you could not sleep there. If I remember correctly, her belief was that if you were to do this your stay in the house would be short. Well, we moved into the house we are currently living in on a Friday and this has been the shortest of stays in my adult life. I don't think I have ever not seen a lease out to the end, until now. That tells me that my grandmothers little superstition is just an old wives tale. Aren't most of them?
This made me think about all the other things we believe in, just because someone told us it was bad luck if we didn't or did do something. We all know the ones like, don't let a back cat cross your path, which by the way I have never really been clear about. Is the cat not supposed to cross the path your are walking and currently haven't gotten to yet, or is that black cat not supposed to walk the path you have already walked? This has been a life long confusion for me. Then there is the don't walk under a ladder. I don't know what walking under a ladder will do to you, but apparently we aren't to do it. There are also the lesser known beliefs, like a friend of mine from India believed that you should never whistle at night. I don't know why, but she would get very upset with me if I did it. She also believed that you could not pass a knife to anyone, you had to put the knife down in front of them and they are to pick it up from there. I believe she said that if you were to do this then there would be a fight between the two people involved in the knife pass soon after doing so. I had never heard of that one. There are people who believe that you should never sleep in the moons light, that it can't be directly on you. I don't know what you do if you happen to be homeless, I guess find a cardboard box to lay in so the moons rays don't get you. My grandmother on my mother's side also believed that if you forgot something after you left the house and went back to get it, you had to wait outside the house and count to ten before you can leave again. I don't know what would happen to you if you did not count to ten, but it wasn't good I know that. The mother of a friend of mine believed you couldn't take an old broom into a new home, it had something about bringing the old dirt into the future. I have always kind of believed that, and have always started off in any new house with a new broom, but it has more to do with just using the opportunity of a move to get a new broom. I have always left the old one in the old place so I have something to use to clean with after everything is out, and then just leaving it there for the new tenants.
Isn't if funny how we go through life believing in mystical things like luck, or chance, or superstitions. I have to wonder where all this come from. I find it fascinating that the same people who believe in God, also have these strong superstitions, shouldn't they be thinking in a more Divine intervention kind of thing? I don't know. I think that we all have our "lucky socks" or ways of doing things that make us feel better about certain things, I know I do. I don't think I am all the superstitious by nature, but there are things that I just feel like if I don't do them and something bad happens then I end up wishing I had just done it the way the superstition said to do it. Those chain emails freak me out. I hate sending trash to 25 of my closest friends, but it says really bad things will happened to me if I don't. What do you do in that case, piss off 25 of your friends because you have now put them in the exact same situation you are currently in, or do you take your chances. I have gotten really good at picking them out in subject lines in email now, so I delete before I ever read the thing. I don't want to piss of the people in my life, but I sure as heck will do that before letting and impending tragedy come my way!!
I hope that this new place is a place we stay in for a very long time, but if it turns out to not be my logical mind knows that it has nothing to do with which night of the week I spent my first night there. I respect other's beliefs and I accept that we don't all think the same, but when it comes to silly superstitions, in most cases I don't put much weight in them....and now watch, I have said that now and some big piece of a plane will come hurling out of the sky and strike me dead......
If my grandmother knew our first night in our new home would be on a Saturday, she would be rolling in her grave. She was very superstitious, and Saturday being your first night in a new home is a very very bad thing to do in her books. She believed you could move your stuff in, but you could not sleep there. If I remember correctly, her belief was that if you were to do this your stay in the house would be short. Well, we moved into the house we are currently living in on a Friday and this has been the shortest of stays in my adult life. I don't think I have ever not seen a lease out to the end, until now. That tells me that my grandmothers little superstition is just an old wives tale. Aren't most of them?
This made me think about all the other things we believe in, just because someone told us it was bad luck if we didn't or did do something. We all know the ones like, don't let a back cat cross your path, which by the way I have never really been clear about. Is the cat not supposed to cross the path your are walking and currently haven't gotten to yet, or is that black cat not supposed to walk the path you have already walked? This has been a life long confusion for me. Then there is the don't walk under a ladder. I don't know what walking under a ladder will do to you, but apparently we aren't to do it. There are also the lesser known beliefs, like a friend of mine from India believed that you should never whistle at night. I don't know why, but she would get very upset with me if I did it. She also believed that you could not pass a knife to anyone, you had to put the knife down in front of them and they are to pick it up from there. I believe she said that if you were to do this then there would be a fight between the two people involved in the knife pass soon after doing so. I had never heard of that one. There are people who believe that you should never sleep in the moons light, that it can't be directly on you. I don't know what you do if you happen to be homeless, I guess find a cardboard box to lay in so the moons rays don't get you. My grandmother on my mother's side also believed that if you forgot something after you left the house and went back to get it, you had to wait outside the house and count to ten before you can leave again. I don't know what would happen to you if you did not count to ten, but it wasn't good I know that. The mother of a friend of mine believed you couldn't take an old broom into a new home, it had something about bringing the old dirt into the future. I have always kind of believed that, and have always started off in any new house with a new broom, but it has more to do with just using the opportunity of a move to get a new broom. I have always left the old one in the old place so I have something to use to clean with after everything is out, and then just leaving it there for the new tenants.
Isn't if funny how we go through life believing in mystical things like luck, or chance, or superstitions. I have to wonder where all this come from. I find it fascinating that the same people who believe in God, also have these strong superstitions, shouldn't they be thinking in a more Divine intervention kind of thing? I don't know. I think that we all have our "lucky socks" or ways of doing things that make us feel better about certain things, I know I do. I don't think I am all the superstitious by nature, but there are things that I just feel like if I don't do them and something bad happens then I end up wishing I had just done it the way the superstition said to do it. Those chain emails freak me out. I hate sending trash to 25 of my closest friends, but it says really bad things will happened to me if I don't. What do you do in that case, piss off 25 of your friends because you have now put them in the exact same situation you are currently in, or do you take your chances. I have gotten really good at picking them out in subject lines in email now, so I delete before I ever read the thing. I don't want to piss of the people in my life, but I sure as heck will do that before letting and impending tragedy come my way!!
I hope that this new place is a place we stay in for a very long time, but if it turns out to not be my logical mind knows that it has nothing to do with which night of the week I spent my first night there. I respect other's beliefs and I accept that we don't all think the same, but when it comes to silly superstitions, in most cases I don't put much weight in them....and now watch, I have said that now and some big piece of a plane will come hurling out of the sky and strike me dead......
Saturday, June 9, 2012
One Crazy Friday Night!
It's been an exciting week around here. We looked at a new house to rent, loved it, filled out the application, crossed every appendage we have and GLORY...we got it!! We are so excited, but not exactly about the time line, we only have three weeks, yikes!! I'm up for it, I like a challenge, I know I can do it, bring on the boxes. We are lucky because we have only been in the this stinky house for 8 months and haven't unpacked everything, and when we did unpack we organized everything so packing will be easier. When we moved here we knew it was only going to be for a short time, not this short mind you, but sort none the less. I am so grateful to be leaving, it has been a nightmare since we moved in. I cried the first night we were here, and I can't tell you how many tears have been shed since. It will be great to be out from under this mold infested swamp!
This week at work has also been phenomenal for Damie. She has had the most productive week since she started working for this company in Oct. She couldn't keep up with all the calls, quotes, potential customers coming in and seeing her. She was pretty much run off her feet. By the time the end of the week came she was ready to call it a week by 4:00 Friday afternoon. We were happy to see her walk through the door at 6, finally the week was over and we were all home for two days together. Weekends are like that aren't they. It's so great to get us all under one roof from morning to night. Somehow we have screwed things all up haven't we. Why is it that we work 5 day and have only two off, what were we thinking, why didn't we work it out to be work 3 days have 4 off....now that would have made way more sense to me!
It was a hot day yesterday, and so I didn't feel much like cooking. Our house is not air conditioned so when it gets hot, it's a boiler! We decided to go out to eat for a change. I was happy, a night for me not to cook. Besides, we needed to celebrate our exceptional week.
We picked out a restaurant we all like, and haven't been to in a really long time and drove into the city. It's about a 40 minute drive for us, but that was okay it gave us all time to talk and tell each other about our days. We arrive at the restaurant just in time, I was beginning to fell like if I didn't get something to eat I was going to start eating my arm off. The waitress sat us and then after a bit came and took our drink orders. A few minutes she came back with a diet coke for Damie, water with lemon for me, and a big cold glass of chocolate milk for Zeb. She was in a bit of a hurry, so she just put all the drinks between me and Zeb and then kind of ran off....they were about to bring out a cake for a customer sitting in the back and she needed to get to the pile of other wait staff to follow the cake out. I moved Damie's drink over to her side of the table, I then moved my water to my other side, and was just moving my hand back when the group started singing and Zeb sat up a bit to see the birthday girl or boy when his elbow knocked the glass of chocolate milk down pouring the contents all over my leg, arm and eventually the floor. I was drenched, and mad, and starving. Zeb immediately started to cry, feeling so bad about what had just happened. I quickly told him it was not his fault and not to worry about it, the waitress should never have put that glass there. There was no salvaging the night, we had to go. I was completely milk from the waist down. As I sloshed to the car all I could think was I don't want this milk all over my seats and we didn't have anything I could put under me to keep them safe. It then occurred to me that if Zeb were to open his door at the back and I open my door at the front I could quickly take my shorts off and then climb into the car without anyone seeing me, so that is exactly what I did. Zeb was laughing so hard I thought he was going to throw up...he couldn't believe what he was seeing, his old mom pulling her drawers down in public. It was pretty funny.
So on the way home we picked up some food and went home to eat. I was famished by the time I actually got to sit down and eat, but it sure was an adventure.
This week at work has also been phenomenal for Damie. She has had the most productive week since she started working for this company in Oct. She couldn't keep up with all the calls, quotes, potential customers coming in and seeing her. She was pretty much run off her feet. By the time the end of the week came she was ready to call it a week by 4:00 Friday afternoon. We were happy to see her walk through the door at 6, finally the week was over and we were all home for two days together. Weekends are like that aren't they. It's so great to get us all under one roof from morning to night. Somehow we have screwed things all up haven't we. Why is it that we work 5 day and have only two off, what were we thinking, why didn't we work it out to be work 3 days have 4 off....now that would have made way more sense to me!
It was a hot day yesterday, and so I didn't feel much like cooking. Our house is not air conditioned so when it gets hot, it's a boiler! We decided to go out to eat for a change. I was happy, a night for me not to cook. Besides, we needed to celebrate our exceptional week.
We picked out a restaurant we all like, and haven't been to in a really long time and drove into the city. It's about a 40 minute drive for us, but that was okay it gave us all time to talk and tell each other about our days. We arrive at the restaurant just in time, I was beginning to fell like if I didn't get something to eat I was going to start eating my arm off. The waitress sat us and then after a bit came and took our drink orders. A few minutes she came back with a diet coke for Damie, water with lemon for me, and a big cold glass of chocolate milk for Zeb. She was in a bit of a hurry, so she just put all the drinks between me and Zeb and then kind of ran off....they were about to bring out a cake for a customer sitting in the back and she needed to get to the pile of other wait staff to follow the cake out. I moved Damie's drink over to her side of the table, I then moved my water to my other side, and was just moving my hand back when the group started singing and Zeb sat up a bit to see the birthday girl or boy when his elbow knocked the glass of chocolate milk down pouring the contents all over my leg, arm and eventually the floor. I was drenched, and mad, and starving. Zeb immediately started to cry, feeling so bad about what had just happened. I quickly told him it was not his fault and not to worry about it, the waitress should never have put that glass there. There was no salvaging the night, we had to go. I was completely milk from the waist down. As I sloshed to the car all I could think was I don't want this milk all over my seats and we didn't have anything I could put under me to keep them safe. It then occurred to me that if Zeb were to open his door at the back and I open my door at the front I could quickly take my shorts off and then climb into the car without anyone seeing me, so that is exactly what I did. Zeb was laughing so hard I thought he was going to throw up...he couldn't believe what he was seeing, his old mom pulling her drawers down in public. It was pretty funny.
So on the way home we picked up some food and went home to eat. I was famished by the time I actually got to sit down and eat, but it sure was an adventure.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
It's already hard to be a teenager, why do people insist on making it harder?
I was really never one of those kids that needed their parents. I guess I learned early on that they just weren't ever really going to be there for me, so I better rely on myself. So I did for the most part. But this story will show how that wasn't always the case. Sometimes my Mom would surprise me, and be there, even if it was just to make sure her name wasn't being drug threw the mud.
When I think about my childhood, the overwhelming feeling is that of being alone and being lonely. I played mostly alone, I had friends but they just didn't have the free reign I had, so I had to do things by myself most of the time. I learned to stay away from the house as much as possible, otherwise I would just get hit or something thrown at me if I stayed there without parents home. I learned really early to stay away and to entertain myself.
I wasn't much for girly things. I didn't care much for doll's other than my Mrs. Beasley that died when I was 5. I had some barbie dolls, but never really did much with them. What I liked to do was play in the bush building forts, or climbing trees, or spending hours in the Thames river looking for cray fish or other fun things. It's a wonder I ever survived my childhood considering how dangerous so many of my pass times were, but I did.
There came a time when all that stuff became childish, and I didn't find them interesting anymore. I was growing up and moving onto different things, and needed different outlets. This is when friends played an more important role in my life. This is when I happened on two of the best friends anyone could ever want. Isn't it funny how things work that way, you get them just when you need them the most.
I formed a really close bond with my friend Karen. I wrote about her during the A-Z challenge, if you like you can read about it here. We were close fast friends, the kind of friend that you know right off the bat is different than other friendships you have ever had. Then I became friends with Sheri, and that friendship has lasted, to some degree, until now.
Sheri and I met while looking after our pathfinder leader Elizabeth. She was going through cancer and Sheri and I volunteered to go to her home once a week and help her with things she just couldn't do, like vacuuming and light sewing. We all bonded during those difficult days and weeks, Sheri and I especially. We would walk home together from Elizabeth's talking, sharing our secrets and getting to know each other well. There is something that happens to a person when you are there to watch someone go through such a gut wrenching ordeal as Elizabeth was. She would often be very melancholy when we arrived and that lead to talking about regrets, sadness's, things that happened to her or by her. It was a time when we all dug deep down inside to find strength and oneness. Somehow, it brought us all together, in such an intimate way. Cancer can be so unforgiving, but it can also be an amazing catalyst to something profoundly wonderful. Only life, when put the test like that, can change you in ways that you don't ever fully understand. That is what happened to me during those days with her, and with Sheri. It wasn't long before I felt a connection to Sheri that I had never felt with a friend before. She was the sister I never had, she was my confidant, the person I knew I could share things with and she would understand and support me. She was the first person, since my Grandmother, whom I felt truly cared about me. I liked that feeling. I liked having someone in my court, someone who I knew would always be on my side.
There came a time when we, Sheri and I, were asked to help out at a brownie camp in the summer. They were looking for help during one week, the week the girls from our town would be there, just to watch out for the girls and help them do the things that they needed to do during that week. I was excited about it. I liked camping and I sure loved the idea of being away for a whole week with a bunch of brownies, and Sheri.
Finally the week arrived. Sheri's dad drove the two of us there and helped us with our stuff when we arrived. We were all staying in a large cabin, one big enough for all the brownie's, which I think there were 20 of, and all of the leaders including Sheri and I. We were all given a cot to sleep on, and there was a place under the cot for our things. It only took us a couple of hours to get all those girls situated and ready to take on the week.
Shortly into the trip I started to get a bit homesick. I have no idea why, I had never been homesick in my life, but I was sure feeling it then. There was something about this camp that didn't sit well with me. I felt like I was a bit of an outsider, like I wasn't really welcome. It was the strangest feeling because no one said anything that would give me that impression, no one treated me unkindly, it was just a feeling I got. As the week went on I got more and more homesick. Sheri was trying to help me with it, but nothing seemed to matter, I couldn't wait to get home. It was actually one of the longest weeks of my life.
Finally the day came for us all to go. One of Sheri's mom's friends came to pick Sheri and I up and take us back. Her daughter was in the camp for the week, so she was going to be there anyway, so getting a lift with her was simple. On the way home I fell asleep. I hadn't slept much during the week, so I was pretty tired. That along with the incredible feeling of relief to be finally leaving there made me feel comfortable again, so I laid my head down on Sheri's shoulder and fell asleep.
Next thing I knew we were home, I loved the feeling of walking into my house and knowing that I was finally away from all the negativity I had been feeling that whole week. My parents were away for three weeks on a sailing trip, so I had the house to myself. I can't tell you how good I felt. Finally home, and had lots of time to myself.
School started back in the fall. The rest of the summer had been fairly uneventful, and I was pretty ready to get back into the swing of things. I was going into grade 10 and wanted to start off right. I went to my classes interested, taking lots of notes and reading every night. I was taking short hand (does anyone take short hand nowadays?). It was interesting, difficult, and completely illogical as far as I was concerned, but it was being taught by one of my favorite teachers so I was going to enjoy it no matter what. The year was going splendidly until one Monday morning in Oct.
I usually talked to Sheri every day. Pretty normal for teenagers I think, and we were pretty normal. I called her a couple of times on the weekend but she had been either busy or not at home, so we weren't able to chat until Monday. Sheri and I met each morning in a kind of middle of the way spot. This was a place that both she and I would have to walk, kind of the place where our paths met. We would meet there and walk the rest of the way to school together. This particular Monday I was a little early and so I stood at the corner and waited for her. It seemed to take her longer to get there than normal, but eventually she arrived, only she didn't seem happy. I asked her was was up and she told me that her mom had been talking to a friend of hers over the weekend and she said that the rumor was that her and I (Sheri and I) were gay, and we were a couple. She went on to tell me that her Mom had forbid her to be friends with me from that point on and that it was okay if our paths crossed at school but that she was not going to be able to walk with me or call me or spend any time with me from then on.
I was heartbroken, devastated, and hurt beyond belief. Not only have I lost the nearest and dearest in my life, but I was also the talk of the town, and it was all lies. I couldn't believe what was being said about me, and I couldn't imagine what this was going to do to me. I was a brownie leader that year, and this would destroy all of that. I babysat kids all the time, what was this rumor going to do to that? I was beyond myself in sadness and worry. I went home and told my mom what Sheri had told me. My parents were shocked to hear what was being said, but what could they do? They told me it would all blow over and not to worry about it too much. Well I was going to worry about it, I was so hurt, my heart acked. I have never cried as much as I did during those terrible days and weeks. I missed my friend, I missed having someone to talk to, I missed having that person who was going to be on my side. She was gone and I couldn't even so much as call her on the phone. It was like she had died.
After a few weeks of me crying daily my Mom took me to see the head of the guiding area, who just happened to be Elizabeth. She explained what had happened between Sheri and I, and that it was a leader who had been at that camp that was making these false accusations. She wanted that person dealt with and she wanted all of the people involved to apologise to both me and Sheri. She then asked Sheri's Mom to our house to have coffee and talk. She explained to her Mom that we were good friends and that we didn't ever get into any trouble and as far as she was concerned that was the most important thing to her. She wanted Sheri's Mom to agree to let us be friends again, and to accept that it was all just lies and if she were to separate us then she was admitting that it was all true. Sheri's Mom reluctantly agreed to let us be friends again.
Finally it was all over. I had my friend back and the adults involved in starting and spreading this rumor had to apologize to both Sheri and I, and then things all went back to normal. Well sort of. By the time it was all said and done my school work had taken a big hit. I had not focused on school the way I should have, and because of that I failed short hand. I just was too far behind. It took me a long time to forgive those people, and even longer to believe that people were not talking about me behind my back. I had lost trust in so many people during this time, and I had felt so betrayed I can't even begin to explain that. I was ashamed of it for a long time, and I didn't want to be seen in public with Sheri for a very long time. It changed me. I couldn't believe that an adult would do this to a kid, who does that?
Rumor's can destroy people, it can take good people and tear them apart, piece by piece. Talking about people behind their backs is never a good idea, what does it do? I think that the only people who truly like doing this sort of thing are the ones who's hearts are empty and sad. What will really shock you about this story is that the rumor started by a woman who had lost her 8 yr old daughter in a very tragic car accident the summer before. This is what made her feel better, trying to tear down two teenage girls who had a very close friendship.
I feel sorry for that ladyand would have loved to kick her in the ass, even now. Even today, and it's been almost 30 years now, she is still sad, broken and hurtful. I feel bad for her now, but I sure didn't then!
When I think about my childhood, the overwhelming feeling is that of being alone and being lonely. I played mostly alone, I had friends but they just didn't have the free reign I had, so I had to do things by myself most of the time. I learned to stay away from the house as much as possible, otherwise I would just get hit or something thrown at me if I stayed there without parents home. I learned really early to stay away and to entertain myself.
I wasn't much for girly things. I didn't care much for doll's other than my Mrs. Beasley that died when I was 5. I had some barbie dolls, but never really did much with them. What I liked to do was play in the bush building forts, or climbing trees, or spending hours in the Thames river looking for cray fish or other fun things. It's a wonder I ever survived my childhood considering how dangerous so many of my pass times were, but I did.
There came a time when all that stuff became childish, and I didn't find them interesting anymore. I was growing up and moving onto different things, and needed different outlets. This is when friends played an more important role in my life. This is when I happened on two of the best friends anyone could ever want. Isn't it funny how things work that way, you get them just when you need them the most.
I formed a really close bond with my friend Karen. I wrote about her during the A-Z challenge, if you like you can read about it here. We were close fast friends, the kind of friend that you know right off the bat is different than other friendships you have ever had. Then I became friends with Sheri, and that friendship has lasted, to some degree, until now.
Sheri and I met while looking after our pathfinder leader Elizabeth. She was going through cancer and Sheri and I volunteered to go to her home once a week and help her with things she just couldn't do, like vacuuming and light sewing. We all bonded during those difficult days and weeks, Sheri and I especially. We would walk home together from Elizabeth's talking, sharing our secrets and getting to know each other well. There is something that happens to a person when you are there to watch someone go through such a gut wrenching ordeal as Elizabeth was. She would often be very melancholy when we arrived and that lead to talking about regrets, sadness's, things that happened to her or by her. It was a time when we all dug deep down inside to find strength and oneness. Somehow, it brought us all together, in such an intimate way. Cancer can be so unforgiving, but it can also be an amazing catalyst to something profoundly wonderful. Only life, when put the test like that, can change you in ways that you don't ever fully understand. That is what happened to me during those days with her, and with Sheri. It wasn't long before I felt a connection to Sheri that I had never felt with a friend before. She was the sister I never had, she was my confidant, the person I knew I could share things with and she would understand and support me. She was the first person, since my Grandmother, whom I felt truly cared about me. I liked that feeling. I liked having someone in my court, someone who I knew would always be on my side.
There came a time when we, Sheri and I, were asked to help out at a brownie camp in the summer. They were looking for help during one week, the week the girls from our town would be there, just to watch out for the girls and help them do the things that they needed to do during that week. I was excited about it. I liked camping and I sure loved the idea of being away for a whole week with a bunch of brownies, and Sheri.
Finally the week arrived. Sheri's dad drove the two of us there and helped us with our stuff when we arrived. We were all staying in a large cabin, one big enough for all the brownie's, which I think there were 20 of, and all of the leaders including Sheri and I. We were all given a cot to sleep on, and there was a place under the cot for our things. It only took us a couple of hours to get all those girls situated and ready to take on the week.
Shortly into the trip I started to get a bit homesick. I have no idea why, I had never been homesick in my life, but I was sure feeling it then. There was something about this camp that didn't sit well with me. I felt like I was a bit of an outsider, like I wasn't really welcome. It was the strangest feeling because no one said anything that would give me that impression, no one treated me unkindly, it was just a feeling I got. As the week went on I got more and more homesick. Sheri was trying to help me with it, but nothing seemed to matter, I couldn't wait to get home. It was actually one of the longest weeks of my life.
Finally the day came for us all to go. One of Sheri's mom's friends came to pick Sheri and I up and take us back. Her daughter was in the camp for the week, so she was going to be there anyway, so getting a lift with her was simple. On the way home I fell asleep. I hadn't slept much during the week, so I was pretty tired. That along with the incredible feeling of relief to be finally leaving there made me feel comfortable again, so I laid my head down on Sheri's shoulder and fell asleep.
Next thing I knew we were home, I loved the feeling of walking into my house and knowing that I was finally away from all the negativity I had been feeling that whole week. My parents were away for three weeks on a sailing trip, so I had the house to myself. I can't tell you how good I felt. Finally home, and had lots of time to myself.
School started back in the fall. The rest of the summer had been fairly uneventful, and I was pretty ready to get back into the swing of things. I was going into grade 10 and wanted to start off right. I went to my classes interested, taking lots of notes and reading every night. I was taking short hand (does anyone take short hand nowadays?). It was interesting, difficult, and completely illogical as far as I was concerned, but it was being taught by one of my favorite teachers so I was going to enjoy it no matter what. The year was going splendidly until one Monday morning in Oct.
I usually talked to Sheri every day. Pretty normal for teenagers I think, and we were pretty normal. I called her a couple of times on the weekend but she had been either busy or not at home, so we weren't able to chat until Monday. Sheri and I met each morning in a kind of middle of the way spot. This was a place that both she and I would have to walk, kind of the place where our paths met. We would meet there and walk the rest of the way to school together. This particular Monday I was a little early and so I stood at the corner and waited for her. It seemed to take her longer to get there than normal, but eventually she arrived, only she didn't seem happy. I asked her was was up and she told me that her mom had been talking to a friend of hers over the weekend and she said that the rumor was that her and I (Sheri and I) were gay, and we were a couple. She went on to tell me that her Mom had forbid her to be friends with me from that point on and that it was okay if our paths crossed at school but that she was not going to be able to walk with me or call me or spend any time with me from then on.
I was heartbroken, devastated, and hurt beyond belief. Not only have I lost the nearest and dearest in my life, but I was also the talk of the town, and it was all lies. I couldn't believe what was being said about me, and I couldn't imagine what this was going to do to me. I was a brownie leader that year, and this would destroy all of that. I babysat kids all the time, what was this rumor going to do to that? I was beyond myself in sadness and worry. I went home and told my mom what Sheri had told me. My parents were shocked to hear what was being said, but what could they do? They told me it would all blow over and not to worry about it too much. Well I was going to worry about it, I was so hurt, my heart acked. I have never cried as much as I did during those terrible days and weeks. I missed my friend, I missed having someone to talk to, I missed having that person who was going to be on my side. She was gone and I couldn't even so much as call her on the phone. It was like she had died.
After a few weeks of me crying daily my Mom took me to see the head of the guiding area, who just happened to be Elizabeth. She explained what had happened between Sheri and I, and that it was a leader who had been at that camp that was making these false accusations. She wanted that person dealt with and she wanted all of the people involved to apologise to both me and Sheri. She then asked Sheri's Mom to our house to have coffee and talk. She explained to her Mom that we were good friends and that we didn't ever get into any trouble and as far as she was concerned that was the most important thing to her. She wanted Sheri's Mom to agree to let us be friends again, and to accept that it was all just lies and if she were to separate us then she was admitting that it was all true. Sheri's Mom reluctantly agreed to let us be friends again.
Finally it was all over. I had my friend back and the adults involved in starting and spreading this rumor had to apologize to both Sheri and I, and then things all went back to normal. Well sort of. By the time it was all said and done my school work had taken a big hit. I had not focused on school the way I should have, and because of that I failed short hand. I just was too far behind. It took me a long time to forgive those people, and even longer to believe that people were not talking about me behind my back. I had lost trust in so many people during this time, and I had felt so betrayed I can't even begin to explain that. I was ashamed of it for a long time, and I didn't want to be seen in public with Sheri for a very long time. It changed me. I couldn't believe that an adult would do this to a kid, who does that?
Rumor's can destroy people, it can take good people and tear them apart, piece by piece. Talking about people behind their backs is never a good idea, what does it do? I think that the only people who truly like doing this sort of thing are the ones who's hearts are empty and sad. What will really shock you about this story is that the rumor started by a woman who had lost her 8 yr old daughter in a very tragic car accident the summer before. This is what made her feel better, trying to tear down two teenage girls who had a very close friendship.
I feel sorry for that lady
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Change!
We have decided to put Zeb in dance lessons. He has been dancing around the house like a little star since, well since he could walk. Once, when I think he was two or two and a half we were watching "so you think you can dance" and during commercial he got up and started a lyrical dance right there in front of our eyes. It was beautiful. He really understood the moves, the expression, the feeling behind his dance. Both Damie and I were amazed. Well the time has come, he is now 7 and can handle taking it seriously, and we finally have enough money to do it. I went to sign him up yesterday, but no one was there so today is the day.
Yesterday Zeb came home from school with a marked assignment in his pile of school stuff. I don't know about most second graders, but Zeb doesn't tell us much. I will say to him "what did you learn at school today, or what exciting thing happened at school today" and I will get, "well we learned about water, but I don't feel like telling you about it" or " we didn't learn anything new today, just did the usual". I used to get upset about it, but now I just take it as it is and hope that he will share with me the things that are important in his own time, and he does. We can be sitting eating dinner and out of the blue he will tell us something they did in a class a few weeks ago, or while we are driving down the road he will point out geometric shapes that they have learned about in school, so I do get the information, just not when I ask. Well, back to the assignment he brought home yesterday. It was his persuasive letter, the one he said he had written, but never told us what it was about. So here I have this notorious letter in my hands. I will write it for you here.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Yesterday Zeb came home from school with a marked assignment in his pile of school stuff. I don't know about most second graders, but Zeb doesn't tell us much. I will say to him "what did you learn at school today, or what exciting thing happened at school today" and I will get, "well we learned about water, but I don't feel like telling you about it" or " we didn't learn anything new today, just did the usual". I used to get upset about it, but now I just take it as it is and hope that he will share with me the things that are important in his own time, and he does. We can be sitting eating dinner and out of the blue he will tell us something they did in a class a few weeks ago, or while we are driving down the road he will point out geometric shapes that they have learned about in school, so I do get the information, just not when I ask. Well, back to the assignment he brought home yesterday. It was his persuasive letter, the one he said he had written, but never told us what it was about. So here I have this notorious letter in my hands. I will write it for you here.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
I am going to tell you three reasons why I should take singing and dancing lessons. First of all, so I can be famous and a cool boy. Secondly, I should take lessons so I can dance well because it is my dream. Finally, so I can learn new songs to sing. Theys are all the reasons why I should take singing and dancing lessons.
He got one of the best marks he has ever gotten on that assignment, and it sure brought a smile to our faces. He is one surprising little boy.
I am glad he has this desire to do something, I love it when I hear about kids at an early age knowing exactly what they want to do for the rest of their lives, and do it. It just blows my mind. I didn't have that, I was much more of a kid who changed their minds daily about what they wanted to be, I never had a real passion for anything except maybe singing, so I drifted. Even when it came to going off to post secondary school I really didn't know what I truly wanted to do. I went to college for music, but that just didn't fit. I then changed directions and thought I wanted to be a nurse, but I couldn't handle anything to do with the mouth, so that wasn't going to work, so then I stopped going and went to work full time until I could decide. I worked in a factory for two years and discovered that what I really wanted to be was a social worker. I applied to university. My parents threw a royal fit. They didn't want me to go to university, they felt that I had a good paying job working at the factory and they didn't want to see me waste my time going back to school. They literally fought me on this. I did it anyway, and let me tell you they continued to fight it the whole time I went. Every single time I talked about it they would get that sound in their voice, the one I had learned really early on meant that they just were not interested in hearing about it. Needless to say this made going difficult. I struggled through the first year, and then in my second my friend got sick, and my attention was not on school where it should have been but on her. I struggled for another year and then she died and I stopped going to school. I regret letting that go. I don't want to let it go any more.
Damie and I have talked about it, and we have decided I am going to start back in school in Jan. to finally get my degree. I don't want to be on my death bed saying "I wish I had finished my dream of getting a degree and being a social worker". I need to see this through, no matter how difficult it's going to be. I have all the will and desire to do it, and this time I have a family pushing me forward, wanting me to succeed, to see me fulfill my dream. I finally have all the elements needed to achieve success. I am looking forward to that first day, and to the next 3 yrs. I am going to work hard and do what I should have done 20 yrs ago!
I am thankful for Zeb is so many ways, but what I think I am the most grateful for is seeing possibility again. I had stopped for a very long time, but through him I can see it. When he came into our lives the lights all turned on, I could see in colour again and over the course of the last 7 yrs I have found a little part of myself that had been lost for so long. He certainly has breathed life into our lives, and we will be forever changed!
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