20 Years

Dear Dad;

Today marks 20 years since you left. It seems like a lifetime ago in some ways. I'm 40 now - not much younger than you were when you died. I think about that a lot. I remember vividly you and the rest of the neighbourhood parents turning 40. You had no idea that less than a decade later you'd be gone. I try to be mindful of that and appreciate every day, because it's true - we really don't know how long we have to do all the things we want to do.

You've shown up in my dreams a lot lately. That hasn't happened for years. The dreams are always present day and it always seems like you are just stopping by to see how things are. It's funny how I can't picture your voice when I'm awake but in dreams it's as clear as anything.

There is a day sometime this upcoming June where I will have officially lived longer without you than with you. I regret not getting to know you as an adult although I am sure we would have had some challenges and my life would be very, very different. I wish you had seen me emerge out of the awkward, self-centred clueless teen years. I'm not perfect but I think I've done a lot more of "living up to my potential" than I did (of didn't at all, lol) as a kid.

We're all doing okay. Jamie (who prefers James now) is smart, successful and has made a great life for himself in Texas. Sometimes in certain pictures he looks just like you, other times he's more of a blend. I think he got a lot of his drive and determination (stubbornness?) from you. He's good at figuring things out from a technical perspective and he's handy - other things for sure he got from you as well as both his grandfathers. I think you'd be super proud of how he turned out.

Mom is pretty good too. She's happy. She found love again which is important and I've always been glad it was with someone who was like a second dad to me, someone you liked and respected.

Of course there is the cancer situation. I hate the fact that Mom's had to fight cancer too. I think it was probably that much scarier for her having already watched you go through it. I can tell you I could have done without having to have the "I have cancer" conversation with both my parents but that's life I guess. It doesn't seem fait but I guess that's also how life works. I'm hopeful she'll be okay. She's really positive about things and I know that makes a huge difference - we saw that with you. Had you not fought so hard we probably wouldn't have had the three years we had after you were first diagnosed. So in some small way I think you've helped her with this battle by setting an example. Thank you.

And then there is me. I've done some cool stuff. Like moving to Calgary and the kidney thing. You wouldn't have approved of the kidney thing (out loud anyway, mostly out of worry and fear) but I think it would have been one of those things you'd secretly have been proud of. You know, hiding newspaper clippings etc. in your desk drawer or your car like you did with some of my school projects or stories/letters I wrote. We found some of those after you got sick. It showed me a different side of you I didn't really get to know. You weren't great at showing or talking about how you felt, and I feel like maybe that would have evolved if you had gotten to know the grown-up me. These are the things I think about. Sometimes, especially in the last couple of years when things have been tough, I've "talked thing out" with you. Pretty one-sided conversation (lol) but in my head, especially around some of the career stuff, it made sense. And it helped.

The fact that its been 20 years seems like some kind of a turning point. As though I'm moving into some kind of new era, moving on, moving further away from that part of my life and leaving it behind. I'm such a different person than I was when you last knew me. Part of that comes with age, I know. But I also know for certain that had you not died when you did, at that point in my life,  I would have taken a completely different, unrecognizable path. And that despite not being around anymore, you have influenced and shaped many decisions I have made as an adult - professionally, in relationships and in general.

We never know how things are going to turn out. I do absolutely wish I had the chance to know you longer in life. At the same time though, going through the loss of a parent at 20 taught me some valuable lessons that have made me a better, more appreciative person. A stronger, more compassionate person.  Everything does NOT happen for a reason, but life events do shape how you evolve and grow as a person. And even the worst events give you fresh perspective.

Happy Valentine's Day, Dad.

Bye Bye 2015

I've been trying to write this all day. I've started. I've stopped. I've started again. I sat and reflected on the year. I cried. Then I laughed. And I got angry. I worried. That my friends, sums up this year in a nutshell. 2015 has been unlike any year I've encountered. I'm so done with it.

There were some good moments - it certainly wasn't all bad. My Mom completed her cancer treatments and so far is in the clear a little over a year after her diagnosis and surgery. That's a huge win and a relief. I also had some random moments of pure happiness. Like staying at a friend's house and while lying in bed, hearing a train in the distance as I listened to the rain on the roof (some of my favourite things and places all happening at once). Or laughing uncontrollably until my sides hurt at a malfunctioning parking door at a Banff hotel. It wasn't that funny. But oh did we laugh. I made a couple of great new friends and reconnected with an old one. I was also on the receiving end of a couple of acts of kindness that seemed to come at just the right time. These and the other highlights of the year (hey I turned 40!) have really helped me get through things.

But for the most part, this year was really tough. Loss was the biggest theme for me in 2015. Sadly and frustratingly, I managed to cover this off in a lot of life’s categories. Some losses were major. Some minor. Put all together it just felt like I was constantly being hit with stuff and couldn’t stop to catch my breath, or really seek shelter. One thing after another. Death (a person and a pet). Major home expenses. Loss of friendships. Job Loss. Twice. Family illness. More than a few encounters with people who completely lacked compassion and kindness when it mattered most. Disappointment. Misunderstanding. Bad dates. Financial stress. A lot of uncertainty. In short, it was an asshole of a year.

People keep telling me next year will be my year. I hope so because quite frankly I'm tired. It actually doesn't have to be "my year". I'd be happy with a moderately better year. I am probably one of the most positive, resilient people out there and 2015 has tested me more than any other. While I do have some good people in my world rooting for me, I'm carrying most of this on my own. And sometimes it's kind of heavy.

I'm excited about 2016. I'm also a little scared. I feel like I'm going into some kind of uncharted territory, a new adventure. I think I'm ready, I know I am capable, but I also know enough to know you are never completely prepared for what comes along the way. I have put my big girl pants on, I have a plan and I'm charging forward. But not before I give 2015 one last kick in the shins for good measure on its way out. 

Calgary

Nine years ago today was one of the biggest days of my life. I got on a plane with two suitcases and a heavy carry-on in tow and left Toronto for the final time as a "resident". (Note: do not try to accidentally take a wrench through security at an airport. They don't like that and the moving excuse doesn't help). My furniture had left three days earlier, and would eventually (and I mean eventually) make it's way west as well.

I often get asked the question "Was it a job or a man?" that made me move out here. It wasn't either. Sure, my employer at the time was looking to fill a position out here and they had asked several times if I would consider moving, but it wasn't ever something they were going to make me do. In fact, I had said no a good solid six weeks in a row to the suggestion. Why would anyone want to move to Calgary? I had never been west of Windsor and will admit I was the typical Ontarian, believing the world revolved around Toronto and its placement in the Centre of the Universe. (Most Ontarians don't realize they look at the world this way until they go and live somewhere else). I had no interest in moving, let alone to Calgary. All I knew about Calgary was that they had cows there (or nearby) and had hosted the Olympics in 1988.

Then I started to give it more thought. All of my friends were coupled and/or getting married, moving to the suburbs and talking about having kids. I wasn't there yet at all. I was a couple of years into being single after two serious relationships. My few remaining single friends seemed to be busy all the time with other things and I felt like my social circle was really shrinking. I was starting to feel like I was in a bit of a rut, and wondered if maybe a change of scenery might help. I recognized that it would push me well outside my comfort zone, but it also could be an adventure. Still, Calgary was far and I didn't know anyone.

It was summer and I had the routine of occasionally packing my laundry up in my car and driving out to my Mom's house to do it. This was mostly because I could sit by the pool on a nice day and swim while the laundering was in process. It was also because I could "shop" for things in her house like paper towels, toilet paper and bottles of wine (sorry, Mom). She was rarely there in the summer, and it was a pretty quiet, relaxing way to spend an afternoon. One particular weekend in early August I had such a 'Laundry Day". As I sat by the pool, my thoughts drifted to the whole idea of Calgary again. That particular weekend I was pretty fed up with a few people in my life for canceling plans. I sat and contemplated what life in a new city would be like. I still wasn't sure if the move made sense or if I was up to the challenge. At some point in the afternoon I got a little bored and decided to go through this box of memorabilia and documents my Mom has. I had been through it a million times before - it had things like my adoption certificate, her marriage license, my Dad's death certificate. It also had things like our old family dog Shannon's hairbrush and small keepsakes my brother and I had received as infants. As I rummaged, I noticed a small white box I had never seen before with my name on it. Weird. I was nosy enough I thought I had seen everything. Inside the white cardboard box there was a velvet box. I opened that up. And in that box I found a coin - a commemorative coin from 1975 that someone had given my parents to mark my arrival. Here's the kicker. The coin was commemorating Calgary's centennial.The following Monday I went into work and sent my boss an email: "Let's talk about this Calgary thing.".

Days later, they had me on a plane to visit Calgary for the first time, to help get a new food service account set up (SAIT, which is where years later, I am now working in a different capacity for the actual institution). My first trip out, my plane touched down on a runway with cows along one side of it. Yep, they indeed had a lot of cows in this city (I don't think they have them by the airport anymore though). I made several trips back and forth between Calgary and Toronto for a couple of months while planning the move, which officially happened the Tuesday after Thanksgiving.

And here we are, nine years later. So much has happened. I can honestly say I would not be half the person I am today had I not made the move here. To say (as I did earlier) that the move would push me outside of my comfort zone was a huge understatement. I had to find my way in a new city, make new friends and establish a new life. I gained a confidence and knowledge that far exceeded my expectations. I knew I'd be better for making the move. I didn't realize how much better. Career wise, there is no way I'd be doing as well in Toronto for a variety of reasons. The move also lead me down the path to becoming a kidney donor, which was another life changing, confidence boosting, learning experience of an event. So much has happened in the last nine years, from people to changes to accomplishments. I'm very proud of myself for taking a chance, for believing that this was something I could do, and do well. For believing in myself.

I'm not sure I believe that everything happens for a reason, in some arbitrary, fate driven way, but I do think that sometimes the least expected path has the greatest rewards.

Changes

If nothing else, this "40th year" has been full of the unexpected. Some bad thing, some good things. While I've always been pretty resilient, I have to admit that I would love if the curve balls could stop for awhile.

In the Spring, my writing and a lot of other things I love slowed down, and in a lot of cases became non-existent in my life. I was busy - or let's be honest, overwhelmed - with the unexpected. I was also in a high pressure professional role that was taking more than I (or likely anyone) could give. I was on the proverbial train headed towards a bridge that was no longer there and I couldn't seem to get off. The crappy part is that I have been on the same train before. So I felt like I should have done a better job and either hopped off sooner, or maybe avoided the getting on train altogether.

I once did a speech to new communications grads from U of C, SAIT and Mount Royal University about the Top 5 Life Lessons I had learned thus far (to be clear, they invited me to speak because I was a Top 40 Under 40, not necessarily because I was some kind of life expert). One of the pieces of professional advice I offered was to "know when to leave the party". In other words - know when you've spent enough time in a particular role, with a particular company and move on. There is no hard and fast rule as to what the best time for this is. I used to work with a lady who swore by the 2-3 year rule. In my experience however, I've had some great professional experiences that have been both longer and shorter than that. You have to rely on your instincts and do what feels right for you.

I used an additional analogy in that part of my speech  - "the favourite pair of jeans". When you buy new jeans they look and feel fabulous. Over time though, styles change (for example, thank goodness acid wash died - although I think it might be returning?!?).
You might change. You might get a little more of a booty or you might lose weight. Your tastes (tight vs. baggy) might change too, for a variety of reasons.
The jeans might also change. They may become a little rough looking from wear and tear. Or fade over time in the wash. And so eventually, for all or any of these reasons, the once "greatest pair of jeans" may not be the best option for you anymore. It's not to say they weren't awesome jeans in the beginning - but their time is up. It's simply time for new ones.

Despite my infinite wisdom (insert eye roll here) when speaking to 20-somethings excitedly looking at getting out into the world, I failed to follow my own advice for quite some time with my most recent job. I let things get to a point where my 8am to 5pm role was not an environment where I was learning, growing or having fun anymore. For me, there was a lot of stress and little reward. Things had changed. I had changed. And things didn't fit quite as well as they once did. I tried to make it work but it just wasn't going to happen. So in early June, we parted ways.

It has taken some time for me to figure out what I want now and down the road. Perhaps more importantly I've taken a lot of time to figure out what I don't want in my life anymore and the steps I need to take to make that a reality.

This upcoming week I start a new job in a different industry in a role that is unlike any other I have had before (more to come on that!). It's not completely outside of my toolbox as it will use many of my passions and existing skill sets, while still giving me the opportunity to learn. I'm excited, hopeful and optimistic. I made the same kind of career change just after I turned 20 and again at 30 - those experiences in hindsight were major life turning points for me that lead to some pretty amazing things, both professionally and personally. I can't help but wonder if these recent changes will have a similar outcome as I approach 40.

I'm also excited to be back in a place where I have time, energy and interest in things that had fallen by the wayside earlier this year. I'm looking forward to seeing the good and return to a more balanced life that will no doubt result from these latest changes.

Not Being a Stepmom

On July 1, 2008, when I moved in with my boyfriend, I officially became a stepmom. A little over six years later, in September 2013, my relationship ended, I moved out and I stopped being a stepmom.

Being a stepmom was probably the hardest and yet most rewarding thing I have ever done. I've never being a "regular" parent so I can't make a comparison first hand. There are probably a lot of things that are the same but there are definitely some differences.  For example, you almost instantly have all the roles and responsibilities as a parent (feeding them, taking care of them when they are sick, the discipline etc.) but you haven't formed a relationship yet (really). You don't know how they feel about you, and you don't really know how you feel about them. There are often other parent(s) in the picture and you need to figure out where you fit in to all of that - which part is yours to play in the raising of the child. And that child may or may not resent you for a myriad of reasons from the change in household routine to jealously (although I thankfully didn't experience much of that).

But once you get through that, and you settle in, there is a lot of good stuff that can come with being a step-parent. In my case, "The Child" often would speak more freely with me than he would his dad, asking me a lot of great questions about how things in the world worked. We could have some pretty interesting conversations in the five minutes it took to get him home from daycare after school. I got to do things with him that I loved like making cookies or teaching him how to cook. I was able to share some of my family traditions with him, whether it was trick or treating Halloween, or creating some pretty awesome memories at Christmas. Every year, regardless of if he was planning to be at his mom's or his dad's for Christmas, we'd set a day to decorate the tree and house together, Christmas music playing in the background. One of my favourite Christmas memories from my childhood was the year my parents gave me a Smurf themed Christmas (because I was totally into Smurfs). All the gifts I got from Santa were Smurf related and I was thrilled. So it was pretty cool when decades later I got to do the same thing for The Child, although his was a "Nerf" themed Christmas.

Activities and traditions aside, if you are lucky (and I was), a bond forms. And they learn to love you and you learn to love them. Not because you have to, but because you want to.

When I broke up with The Child's dad, he was at his mothers for the week. He had left, on the Monday, for his usual week on/week off custody arrangement. Because the breakup was somewhat unexpected, he left not knowing that I wouldn't be there when he returned. I didn't know that either. So I didn't get a chance to talk to him or say goodbye. His dad, wanting to protect him, asked his mom to keep him a little longer until I could move out. When he eventually came back, I didn't live there anymore. And his dad didn't want me to see him.

I think - actually I know - that this was probably the hardest thing I've had to deal in my life (with perhaps the exception of my dad dying). In the first few months after the break up, it was soul crushing. If any thoughts of him or memories came bubbling to the surface I had to shove them away with everything in me in order to keep it together. I couldn't look at pictures or I'd cry. Ugly cry. I thought about writing him a letter but couldn't figure out what to say, and wasn't entirely sure (at the time) his dad would let him have it anyway.

There are a lot of articles and tips out there about the end of romantic relationships. There are a ton of blogs and resources about becoming and being a step-parent. What is surprising though is that despite all the blended and re-blended families out there these days, there isn't much about what happens with step-parents and step kids when things don't work out. And there really should be. Because you are grieving the loss of something real.

At first I didn't think I was justified in being sad. I mean, I was partially to blame for the end of the relationship with his dad and this was a consequence. And I wasn't the "real" parent so I didn't have any rights to anything. And The Child wasn't gone, he just wasn't in my life anymore. So I didn't talk about it much with anyone and I tried not to think about it. I wondered how he was doing, how school was, if he was eating his lunch or letting it go bad in his backpack (a six year, ongoing battle we had) and if he knew how much I cared about him. I wondered how soccer was going, how he was doing with homework and what he thought about all of this. Every once in a blue moon I'd see a picture of him on Facebook courtesy of his aunt or uncle and I'd be both thrilled, and then sad all over again.

About a year after the split, this past Fall, my ex wanted to borrow one of the dogs for a hike in the mountains with The Child (we had barely been on speaking terms until that point). They came by my new house to get the dog and I got to see The Child for the first time. We just exchanged hellos in the driveway for the briefest of moments and off they went. My brain went into overdrive trying to process everything. I couldn't push it away as much as I wanted to. It was so good to see him and at the same time so hard. Later that day, after the dog was returned, my ex sent some pictures from the hike of The Child and the dog. And it was like things shifted a little - maybe some healing began.

Today the three of us had brunch together - our first visit since the breakup. It made my heart so happy to see the The Child, to hear about school and the gifts he got for Christmas. To know he is doing well, making good choices and becoming a great young man. Losing our relationship (the one with The Child) will probably be one of the very few regrets I have in my life, but I feel like today I got the start of a bit of closure on grieving what our relationship was in the past. Hopefully I'll still get to know what is going on in his life as time goes on. I'd like that a lot. I'm really proud of who he is becoming and where his life is heading and I'm glad I had the opportunity to be a part of it for six years.