Sam's Garage

it's interesting how things turn out..

when my mother passed, i refused to scramble right away to figure out what to do with all her stuff.. her stuff and ours. so much memorabilia she had hung on to over the years made up most of her belongings. and some random old solid wood furniture. so i snagged a storage locker for a month to give me time to sort out what is what.

for the past couple weeks, ive been trying to organize what's in my little room in this tiny little bachelor apartment so that maybe we could squeeze in some of mom's furniture, and i took it as an opportunity to go through all of my stuff. in doing so, i found that most of my stuff [minus the memorabilia] is actually useful stuff, and a lot of it [clothes, gear, outdoor stuff] is only used seasonally, and i thought how handy it would be to have a garage. tada! lightbulb..

the storage locker is right down the road! we're paying so little for rent here, it's worth the extra hundred bucks a month to rent the space to store all our gear for it's season of use. and now that we have the space to work through the things we own, we can actually make use of them instead of becoming frustrated trying to remember where things are in the multiple stacks of totes in the corner of the room.

not sure why i'd never thought of it before, but i suppose i'm glad i didn't because i wouldn't have the very one i have now. especially given my previous experiences living out of small storage spaces, you would think i would have thought sooner to hang on to it. after a few weeks of trying to figure out how to get rid of the furniture, and then realizing i didn't really want to, i'm glad now i have a way to make use of it until we have a workshop of our own. the storage locker rearranged is now Sam's Garage.

given we used the name she went by the most as the name for Sandy Shores Farm, i figured it'd only be fitting to call the other creative space after another of her nicknames, Sam. it is after all half her stuff and half mine, which is all a part of the same story anyway.

i like this space. i ended up with a bigger locker than we needed because it was the only one left, apparently storage lockers are in high demand this time of year. with the extra space, everything can be arranged functionally and organized so that it can be used instead of stacked in a heap like it was in our little spare room. it faces east so it doesn't heat up as horribly as the units that get the afternoon sun, and there's a bunch of cats that hang out in the garden i can see from the garage. i had my headphones on while sitting at the table going through papers, and three of them had snuck right to the door to check me out.

now that taking inventory of my life and organization have made it to the frontline of my action plan, i'm excited to have this opportunity to take advantage of. i have my very own garage! and i can keep all my textbooks there like my own little library instead of constantly praying i don't lose any of them to the dampness that sometimes overtakes the apartment. and if ever i'm in a situation where i must vacate where i'm at [especially since technically it's not even my apartment], i can certainly stack everything in a way so that it all fits here, bed included. my whole life [and hers] fits into a ten by ten foot square.

onward...

From the Ashes

i've been thinking about writing a book for a long time. it's just hard to begin..

last year i experienced a great deal of self reflection and self-realization. right at the start of the year i was nominated to represent my district at the annual international shareholders meeting. these things are sort of a big deal.. and a once in a lifetime opportunity. i was honoured to be nominated, but it hadn't crossed my mind that i'd actually win.

i had to audition. i had to tell my story.


i suppose that's where it got a little fuzzy with me. where exactly does my story begin? when i started with the company, fresh off the streets? when i ended up out there to begin with? the difficult childhood? the foster home that broke me? the mother i fought with and protected? was it my story to tell? i wasn't sure. i told the bits that i was most comfortable with. that i had been out on the streets, finishing high school, and that i'd borrowed an address and a nice pair of clothes to get that job. i didn't mention my long streak of chemical escapism, or about my sponsor who drove me from town to town so that i could attend narcotics anonymous seven days a week.

i mentioned all the positive bits like how i was more or less raised by the people in this company, their basic beliefs, their moral standards. that i had become who i am today based on my faith in those things.. service, respect and striving for excellence. but i didn't quite mention the part about how my upbringing [or lack thereof] is what taught me how to be patient with intense people and difficult situations, to have empathy for the most haggard of sufferers, to hide my own pain. i only told the happy ending.

and i won.

i suppose i never really gave it much thought after that. before my audition i had a conversation with my manager about someday writing a book. i wasn't too sure what kind of book she meant, be it a story of my life type book, a self-help guide for the socially impaired, or both. but there was one thing keeping me from writing.. my mother.

it was never just my story. it was hers too. a story i felt i could never tell while she was still living. not out of shame, or even guilt, but out of fear that i would break her suffering heart to speak the words for all to hear. to tell the real truth. it was never my intention to hurt her with those words but liberate her... from the guilt she carried of not being there for us when we were younger. to let her see that i never carried spite for her because of our situation, i never could. but i could never be sure how she would take it. i promised i'd start my book as soon as she passed. be it a year or a decade from now, or sometime after i retire.

since then, the story changed.

well, maybe not the story itself, more so my perspective of it.

her life wasn't all tragic. she and her siblings had to deal with other kinds of abuse and neglect throughout their childhood. she had her forms of escapism, she had to make her very own mistakes. but she also had her own share of crazy adventures, good laughs, and big dreams. she was intelligent, creative, inspiring, empathetic, and a really good friend. she had the right answers to the strangest questions, and a faith in many things unseen. most of these are fading memories of the people she knew back when, some my brother and i were lucky enough to catch glimpses from time to time.

i think i'm ready to write this story down. and share it. that sharing part i'm a kind of nervous about, not that i've ever cared much for others' opinions of me. still a little fuzzy on the starting point, maybe there isn't one. maybe it won't be a chronological book but a collection of random memories that serve as little lessons or deep learnings. maybe i'll just keep it here, in the uncertain electronic media that is the interweb. or perhaps someday i'll collect the best of the best and bound their words to the world of ink and paper.

there's so many little stories and big ol' books written by others about their lives that have impacted me greatly, and taught me about worlds i could have never understood without their teachings. that have taught me things about myself i never took a moment to even realize. their stories helped me to see myself and my own life through more careful eyes, and inspired me to be better to myself. maybe something i have to say can do that for someone else. or maybe it will help me to mentally digest my experiences just to write them out. either way.. it's time get started. it's time.

dandelion fluff.

i've experienced some pretty incredible triumphs in my lifetime, and some pretty horrible and gruesome failures.. and though they were horrible and gruesome [and some incredibly expensive], i can hardly regret them. i am beginning to realize that sometimes you must see something fall apart completely to understand how it works.

...

 

i haven't been writing much.. or at all really, on any blogs or anything at all. it's not that i don't have anything to write about, or the lack of words to write it out [for once!], it's just that i haven't had the time. so much has been happening. it's hard to digest. meaningful coincidences, things suddenly making sense... and i've been pretty busy too. getting organized has a sudden sense of urgency behind it, and i've been pretty focused on that in many aspects of my life. at home, on the job, in my mind.. putting things in their place to maximize their potential. observing things, their strengths and weaknesses, trying new systems to see how they work. and did i mention the garden? all that, one word... permaculture.

don't get me wrong, i miss my mother. terribly. it still kills me in solitary moments when i deeply realize that us kids will not hug her again in this life. but we can still tell her stories.. through our hearts and through our actions. and i suppose, that's what i've been up to. my brother too. we just have different ways of going about things. always do.

we spent so much time worrying ourselves about the poor woman, and it was hard knowing there wasn't much we could do to help. she wouldn't take it. and it was sad to see her uncomfortable for so long. we miss her so much, but it's relieving to know she no longer has to suffer. that she isn't stuck here, immobilized by pain. now that she's safe and warm, we can live our lives to the fullest without guilt and worry in our hearts. just love. ps. she missed her mother too.

Happy Mother's Day Mom.

 it doesn't feel quite as apocalyptic as it did 42 hours ago, but i can tell you it's been the longest weekend of my life. you were always so sick, my brother and i had been preparing to get that call for over a decade now.. it's just... it finally came in the moment we least expected. well, it's nice to know you gave it your all in the last six months of your life. i'm glad as your children we could give you the motivation you needed to start turning your life around.

when i heard you tell me that for the first time in as long as you could remember you were finally happy, i felt as though the clouds for miles and centuries had finally parted to let in a little light. my heart was filled with hope that you would make it through and it would be a lovely summer. knowing you were happy and doing fine, Dan and i didn't feel the need to constantly check in on you to make sure you were still kicking. you had your best friend there with you finally, and we had a moment to plan a super awesome mother's day surprise.

Danno got his full license monday morning, and we rented a truck the very next day to haul some dirt and mulch and sheep shit back home to the garden. we were talking about how we could get you out of the house now, and take you to all the places you couldn't get to on your own. we would pick you up for mother's day, and take you to your favourite restaurant for all you can eat, and bring a great big basket of all your favourite fruits you were missing out on. now that you had your smile back [both your happiness AND your teeth] it'd be a good time getting in some practice.

so anyways, back to the garden. i spent the week laying it down, and working in a nice, soft, golden cedar path for you to walk on. all i could think was how your brand new little red scooter was good enough for the ride to get you here and back all by yourself. it's gonna be huge this year, i was so proud to think that i finally had the 'farm' in the works for you to come enjoy. fresh toasted tomato sammiches for days.

i had a hard time sleeping thursday night.

i'm not sure if it was because i knew it was the last night i didn't have to set an alarm to wake up on my vacation, or if i was just super excited to get the seeds in the ground. i felt a little strange as the clock turned closer to four a.m. and i was still awake here waiting for the sunrise. maybe i had a feeling it was the final hour of your life. when i realized the time i laid down for a couple hours of shut-eye.

when i opened the door to the outside, the warm breeze brought the smell of summer. after so many long frigid days and dark and frosty nights it was nice to finally step out into the suN. i prepared what i needed slowly, and carefully. the seeds i was most excited for was the mammoth sunflowers. they would tower over us one day soon. a few more finishing touches and i could call to let you know you'd see it Sunday afternoon.

...

it was 4:19 when the phone rang.

Dan was on the line. did you get a strange call from the police station just now? i said no why what's going on? "they said it was about our mother and they can't tell me anything over the phone." he told me he was on his way to the station and he'd call me back as soon as he knew the situation. i hung up the phone. 4:20p.m.

4:21... i opened my tear filled eyes. the sky covered over quickly. suddenly we'd lost the suN. the wind picked up, i thought.. i'd better get the tools inside before they turn into wind-born projectiles. i made it back inside the doorway as the clouds opened up. i stood there with my arms outstretched to feel the rain. i knew that you were gone.

...

every single moment since has passed like an eternity. there's a sort of silence i can't fully describe. it takes what feels like years to fall asleep, and it hurts like hell to know that i can't call you when i wake up. i kept looking at my phone waiting for the next "Mom" text to arrive.

i called your best friend as soon as i found his number. we went to visit him and made sure he's okay. it's one thing to lose your mother, but to no longer have the partner you dedicated your life to, i couldn't imagine the pain. i call him every morning, afternoon and night. he shares your happy stories with me, i think he'll be alright.

...

i know you always hated mother's day. you felt like you didn't deserve it, like you weren't entitled to a celebration. no matter how much we told you that we forgave you, you could never forgive yourself. you lost your mother when she was young too, and you never did seem to let it go. you missed her so much. we told you we just wouldn't be us if it wasn't for everything we'd lived through, and we owed our strength to you. i hope you finally realized how amazing you are, for loving us the way you did through everything. maybe you didn't know exactly how to 'be a mother' just yet, but you were always very proud.

Happy Mother's Day Mom. it feels so sad to say, but it was a little easier to be with you this way. it broke our hearts to watch you suffer. i wish you didn't spend so many years of your life sick and in pain. physically, emotionally.. and spiritually drained. you cried, and you worried, and you smoked your life away. and i miss you more each passing moment. but i know you have found peace.

...

we met up at your building extra early. when we called the superintendent he finally answered and said, sorry we'll be at church for the day, i was a little disappointed that we wouldn't get into your place. but it was okay. we sat in the park to look through the photos in my rucksack in the shade. it was a beautiful day, all the trees had blossoms. we picked through happy memories together.

the super called us back. him and his family decided they'd come home early, and would be there to let us in right away. we looked gently around your apartment. underneath the dust and nicotine was a perfectly preserved story of a mother's love. all the pictures on the walls were family, but for the most part every wall was us. and your art.. i loved it when you painted. you kept every christmas greeting, and each handwritten note in a big brown envelope. every rock, every postcard, every silly little gift from the dollar store. you didn't have much, but you held on to what was important. your children... your love.

...

oh and i wanted to let you know that i wished aunt Sue a Happy Mother's Day too. i told her i was sorry that it'd been so long since we last spoke, and that i was grateful for her always being there for you and me and Dan when we were younger. she too is a mother, and a proud one just like you. i made her a collage of a few photos:

the first one one in the corner is a photo you took of her and your mom. she's got that silly aunt Sue smile on, and Monna is smiling at you too. next to that one in the middle is a picture of you by the lake. anywhere with your fishing rod was always a happy place. then there's a photo of you in the driver's seat with your leather cowboy hat on. and that sunny smile... it was your first rocky mountain road trip and you savoured every moment's last drop. below that is a photo of me and my baby brother, cuddling in style. you always love it that we loved each other. and the last one there in frame is the photo of your silhouette against the sunset. it was your favourite photo of you, and how you always liked to remember yourself.


...


we love you mom, and we miss you very much. we promise to carry on your legacy of patience, acceptance, tolerance, and unconditional love. your story will transcend intolerance and indifference and inspire mothers and fathers and children and lovers to take care of one another and themselves. we will spend our sundays together and listen to all the music you left us with, and sing along with you. we won't waste any time sweating the small stuff, we'll do what we want, and we'll remember to take our time.


-xoxo

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a walk in the dark.

it's been an interesting week so far.. a much welcomed end to a long winter season. earlier this week, i'd lost my cell phone for a couple hours. yeah, i know.. tragedy huh? haha.. but really, i hadn't realized that i'd 'lost' it until that morning my alarm didn't wake me. i searched the house high and low, tried messaging myself from my computer, and wondered what in the hell i was going to do in the event that i'd never found it. how will anyone get ahold of me? how will Matt and i communicate? how the hell will i know what time it is?! i'd have to buy a watch on my break. as soon as i had finally accepted the fact that my phone was nowhere to be found and that i would indeed have to go the day without it, i found it in my coat pocket. how it'd gotten there i wasn't sure as i didn't leave the house the night before.

anyway, it was a strange array of emotions i had gone through for the loss of this pocket sized technical device. i had realized truly all that it is to me now that i no longer had it.. i rely on it even to do my job more efficiently as everything i do is timed, and i somehow manage to kill watches [or really anything i try to wear around my wrists at work]. i have alarms for everything, all my numbers are saved, and i monitor my activities daily with an app that connects my fitbit to my phone via bluetooth. my oh my how 'connected' i have become. hell i didn't even mention social media, which is now my main means of communication with dozens of people, some of which i talk to on an almost daily basis through this media alone.

 and then there was today. around 4:30 in the morning [roughly five minutes after my first alarm goes off] the sound of the power going out was what got me out of bed. after a few minutes passed and the candles were lit, it became apparent that it wouldn't be coming back on any time soon. i was instantly annoyed that i couldn't press any juice for the day, or make my breakfast smoothie. i had even become spoiled by technology to get some nutrients into me so i can go about my day. my time was up, and i had to leave.. only to realize it wasn't just our house.. or our street... the power was out all the to work and in the mall itself.

there was no lights but the moon out in the suburbs. and it felt creepy.. there's something i can't explain about the feeling of being in the city in the pitch black. the forest, it feels right in the dark of night but in the concrete jungle.. it was mildly unsettling at first. once my eyes had adjusted, the walk was more fun. i felt like a ninja, sneaking through the town unseen in the hours before daylight. as far as i could tell, there was certainly no weather related reasons for a power outage, and it was quite widespread to be a simple downed line. i can never help but wonder what's happening.. sometimes i even think it's planned just to get the masses used to long bouts of time without power.

as i came up out of the suburbs where the main street meets the highway i could see a glare off the damp asphalt ahead. the traffic lights were still on. it was so eerie.. no street lights, no houses lit, just darkness.. and then as if completely missed by the outage stands this one traffic signal on it's green-yellow-red rotation without skipping a beat. then i start to think, as i always do in power outages, if this might be 'it'. and what i'd be doing with the rest of my day/week/life if it never ever came back on. what all of us would be doing...

yeah.

did i mention, it's the first day of spring?! HAPPY EQUINOX!!!! #nomoresnow ;)

winter's end.