Cravings..

There are many stories I read about people 'missing' each other because of the events of life separating them and such. As is the case with Parker and myself. Honestly though, it's not that I think he is 'missing' from my life as much as sometimes... I just want him to be there, in my life that is.

I crave him. I want a chance to touch his head, his shoulder, to hear his voice, to know he is real, that I didn't imagine his existence. As well, I want to feel, for a few moments, that I don't have to pretend he doesn't matter to me, because I have to do that all the time.

You might not think I do, but I do. Often though, I have had times where I have forgotten him, as I have forgotten people in my everyday life, like my mom, or even my close friend Kyla.
When I remember, I feel guilty that I forgot, even though that is normal to be thinking only of the tasks at hand to forget, it's natural, it happens. It's why I put reminders of important people around me.
Pictures, things that they gave me. I think most people do this, they don't want to forget the important people.
I mean, I know I could never truly forget, because I see Parker as a part of my soul, living in a separate body that is part of my body, again, living separated from me, as is natural.

I think I'm like an amputee, without the obvious physical differences
And for the most part, I manage great without I have adapted well.
But there are times when I feel just a little less somehow, like there is something very specific that I need.

It happens all the time with food, the body tells the brain what it would like to function better.
Sometimes the brain doesn't get it right and seems to tell us we want unhealthy things.
Usually though, it's about a balance of energy and strength.

I believe my soul needs much of the same kind of balance, and there are times, when I suddenly notice that I feel out of balance, and what I need to fix the imbalance is an interpersonal interaction.
When I tell people I care about them, and I mean it, it strengthens me too.
When I don't get the chance to do that, I start to feel weaker.
I start to feel like I'm a bad person, and all the weird scary insults that I can only tell myself start flooding my mind, because I lack the strength to stop them, because I've lost my sense of balance, because I didn't get the chance to connect with the people most important to me, the people that are a part of me, and are me.

I'm often scared to tell people that I feel weak, and that is why I need them. I want them to need me so that I will be stronger for the chance to care about them in real, lasting ways.

Yes, my need to see Parker is a soul hunger pain, a weird, and involuntary reaction to feeling less than myself.
So, I want him, but it is very selfish, and I don't want it to be, I want him to need me and that I why I wait and don't ask to see him. Even though I could, and it would probably result in a visit sooner than if I wait.

My mind keeps reminding me that, to be brutally honest, I didn't want to have a son when I had Parker.
I mean, as a teenager, all I wanted was to have a son, but I didn't want Parker because I wasn't loved by Jacob enough to be a good mom. This is what I wrote in my journal while I was pregnant, and looking back at it, I cringe each time I think about those words, because now, I can't stop myself from wanting Parker, and I never expected to feel that way.
It's not that I didn't love him while I gestated him, I loved him without trying to, without knowing that I did, it was a work of God in my, not my own will. Other wise I don't know how I remembered to take all the vitamins, to drink all the milk, to eat well and stay away from smokers.
I am very matter of fact about this, I can love Parker, but not want him, but also have the need to forge a real life connection with him, but want him to be the one to choose it.
I'm going round in circles with my thoughts, this is the end of it, but not really..I'm sorry

It's all about the truth

The Open Adoption Roundtable is a series of occasional writing prompts about open adoption. It's designed to showcase of the diversity of thought and experience in the open adoption community. You don't need to be listed at Open Adoption Bloggers to participate or even be in a traditional open adoption. If you're thinking about openness in adoption, you have a place at the table. The prompts are meant to be starting points--please feel free to adapt or expand on them. 

Write a response at your blog--linking back here so your readers can browse other participating blogs--and share your post in the comments here. Using a previously published post is fine; I'd appreciate it if you'd add a link back to the roundtable. If you don't blog, you can always leave your thoughts directly in the comments.

What were your reasons for choosing open adoption? (Or, for adoptees, what are your reasons for continuing to invest in your relationships with your first family?)

When I decided to make an adoption plan for Parker, I was barely pregnant, but my guiding vision came to about a friend(from years before I became pregnant), who herself placed in open adoption.
In my mind, it wasn't 'open' adoption, it was just the new way that adoption, in general was being done, as far as I knew.
My friend had given me the impression that it was the most normal and natural thing to do.

To me, closed adoption seems like it takes so much more effort than open adoption.
I mean, you have to painfully choose to exclude yourself, or being excluded from the life of someone who is your blood, your kind, your family. For a birth/first mom, she forces herself to deny it happened, and adoptive parents also deny it happened, even when it is obvious.

It has never made sense to me to exclude people, and I have never understood why people exclude others from their lives under this strange notion of 'simplicity'.

To be fair, I am a very private person, and too many people overwhelm me.
As well, I often exclude myself from the lives of people who have proven to be harmful to me, or to others I care about, that makes sense.
But excluding a stranger who does something especially kind for you, as some adoptive parents do, this will never make sense to me. What is in it for them to continue to block certain people from their lives.
Especially in an age where people stay 'friends'(at least online) with their ex's and random high school associations. Why would you stay friends with people who have contributed nothing to your life or worse, unpleasantness, while excluding the one who contributed the most important part of your life??

I am a birth/first mom though, and it is unlikely that I will really understand what it is to parent because I do not see myself in that role, the role of a parent.
I do understand what it is to be busy, and tired and sometimes, not have room for everyone you want to have room for in your life, but those times fade and suddenly, you have whole chunks of time where you have nothing to do and begin thinking of those people you didn't have time for earlier, because now, you do.

My 'choice' in open adoption was not really about creating a connecting as it was leaving that connection intact, ready to be used when the time is right for everyone to get together again.

For me, it's also more about letting Parker know the truth about his life and his family, as everyone should.
As someone who was born to a family, I cannot imagine not knowing my whole family history, as boring as it may be. I cannot imagine not knowing that I look like my mom, but act like my daddy.
I just want Parker to know, as naturally as I do, the things about himself, that the shape of his nose comes from me, that his energy comes from his birth dad, Jacob, those kind of things.
I want him to know all the things that people born to there families know.
It only seems fair.

I may not be as present in his life as I wish I could be, I think the same for my nieces and nephew, but I am determined to remain someone that is easily contactable. I need to be someone who is known about as much as anyone in my everyday knows about me.
Anything less feels like a lie, and my conscious is too loud to let me live a lie like that.

In my opinion, open adoption is about living truthfully, because I don't think you really love someone if you lie to them about something as important as who they are.    

Everything is temporary

I've often had this feeling in almost everything in my life is a passing thing, that nothing will remain for long.
Actually it's often a comfort when I feel stuck in certain situations. The fact that it will be over sometime, that it will be something I will forget soon, that they will forget soon.

I feel like I'm am part of minority that feels this way. I was thinking about how my lovely cat, Lucy, was owned before I adopted her from the shelter. She was surrendered only about a week before my mom and I happened to take a trip to the shelter, to donate a bird cage(nothing wrong with it, just that our 17 year old budgie died). We looked at the cats because the promotion to adopt a cat is almost irresistible, and obviously, I fell for it.
I sometimes wonder about who owned Lucy before she was my Lucy, she was ... Goof...at least that's what the paper work said. I wonder if her previous owner thinks about the cat she lovingly surrendered at all.
I mean, Lucy was almost 2 years old when I adopted her, that means there's two years of time that could have been with just the one owner, or maybe more, I have no way of knowing.
I wonder if they thought that their ownership was temporary. It's unlikely, people often don't think about the future or how things they love currently will fit into their lives as they change.

Because everything is temporary,  the bed I sleep in will probably not be the bed I die in, if I die in a bed(which would be the best way to go..I hope).
I hope to live here, at my mom's house, for the foreseeable future, but I know that it isn't mine, and likely never will be, it's just the best place for me right now.

I have often felt that my place in anyone's life is always temporary.

To be honest, I often feel like I don't deserve anything I have, not even the things I 'earned' or my job.
I feel like I have usurped my position from someone else that would do it more justice than me, or would find more value in it than I do.

As a Christian, I was taught from an early age that life here, existence as I know it, it is temporary, and even more than that, it is but a small bump on the road to where I will truly belong, and be permanent in my existence as well.
All of life then is really only meant to be a small test, if I pass it, if I can humble myself and truly accept God and the truth, then I get to know real love and joy and stuff. If not, torment forever.
Honestly, I don't know if I should try and escape the torment, I probably deserve it, but because I know about God's love, and it has really got to me, I believe all the spiritual stuff, I really do.
It means, that for me, grace is something inescapable for me, it's gonna happen to me whether I want it to or not because my heart overrides my mind so much of the time!

I am not making sense, I meant to say that I wish that everyone could think more about how nothing they have will be their's forever, and stuff they had, other people had it, loved it, maybe more than they did, before they did and other people will love what you love after you, maybe more than you do. Do you follow?? 

Thoughts... reactions..etc??

Being a birth mom doesn't define me. Even though, it probably should. I mean, my job doesn't define me, my hobbies don't define me. My faith sort of defines me, but not in the most traditional ways that are obvious to people.
Whenever I read about how other birth moms are struggling with their feelings I feel guilty for not being as upset as them. I mean, I get more upset about it in different ways.
If something doesn't add up, for example, if a visit or pictures was promised, and then they didn't deliver on said promises right away, or in a reasonable amount of time, as promised, then I get a little upset.
Because that's not fair, and I hate it when I am lied too. I just can't accept it.
Now, I know that life sometimes gets things delayed because unexpected things come up, and I understand that if it is explained to me. I just can imagine that things are going wrong if you don't tell me.

Anyways, that's not what I wanted to write about.
I was thinking about the first times after I gave birth and placed Parker because I have been reading so many stories about it lately. And all of these new birth moms, and even experienced birth moms are often telling stories about how hard they cried and how much they miss their placed child.
I mean, I miss Parker, but I rarely imagine him as part of my life.

I feel sort of a cold rejection when I read stories that I can't relate to but wish I could.
When I hear a story about a birth mom leaving the hospital alone, I feel guilty that I left the hospital not even a full day after I gave birth, in the company of my dear friend.
And what I remember, I wasn't melancholy. I was tired and very hungry.
When I'm hungry, I can rarely think of anything else than what I want for my next meal.
The day that I left the hospital, Parker was still there, so were Jacob, and James, and Laurie(future adoptive parents at the time) and the social worker, Cathy.
The room was a bit crowded for me to get some sleep.
When I left the hospital I don't even really remember walking out.
Just that feeling that I really wanted and shower and a good meal and a good sleep.
I knew that Parker was not leaving with James and Laurie until at least the next day(they actually left that evening, but it wasn't originally planned that way) and Jacob was going to be with his first born as well as his sister(with whom he was staying for the night) who had everything you could need for a baby(she was pregnant with IVF twins, had a C-section 4 days after I gave birth) 
I was confident, in that day, that everything was in place.
That day was really a blur for me. I remember eating chicken fajitas and having a strange horror dream where Parker was in danger(it was just a dream)
It seemed like that visit I had at Jacob's sister house(Natasha is her name) happening in a blink.
I was unexpected as Jacob was supposed to spend time with Parker overnight, but he decided that just 5 hours was enough time. He hadn't slept for two days, I guess it was a rational decision.
I remember kissing Parker, all snug in his brand new car seat, on both cheeks, and then on the forehead.
I did it as a sort of blessing, when noone was looking and everyone was chatting and distracted with the putting coats and shoes on.
We all left out the door sort of together, only to let James and Laurie, with Parker safely buckled in their SUV, for the second time(they apparently drove Parker to Natasha's home, along with Jacob), drive off before us, back to Laurie's mom's house that was only a few blocks away. I don't even know, to this day, when they really left for Sherwood Park, up by Edmonton, that day, or the next morning. Both are possible.
I think the separation of Parker and myself was so happenstance that I never had the chance to think about it that day. Not enough to be sad about it at least. It was all so logical for me.
I had to leave the hospital before him, being there was torture because they didn't have food for me and I was all ... icky ... from giving birth. Jacob needed special time with Parker anyways, and I wanted him to have that time, out of respect, so that he wouldn't give anyone any trouble about the adoption(which didn't exactly work, but in the end, he relented on his insane parenting plan and gave up selling it).
It worked out for me that Natasha was willing to help care for Parker, she wanted to meet her nephew anyways(a surprise to me!). It worked out that Laurie's mom lived close to Natasha and that Laurie and James could easily stay with her.
Everything worked out for me and seemed very logical. My feelings didn't come into play until months after that day. I worked in blissful indifference to the fact that my son was not with me.
I felt grateful that he was being extremely well cared for and that I knew exactly where he was and what his room looked like. Just knowing all the things that he needed were all there, it made it sort of impossible for me to feel badly about my decision.
Hearing stories of woe from other birth moms is always a wake up call for me.
That I should care more, be more upset. Even though, I have my times of crying.
I cry like mad for a few hours every few months or something, and then, I'm fine and it's like I was never upset in the first place!
Am I a monster for not having been a wreck for the first few months after placing Parker.
Is it unfair that in most things in life, things just 'work out' for me.
I mean, others complain about not getting their 'due' at work, and I do not complain, but I get more, more hours, more privileges, more consideration. I think it's because I rarely complain, and I do what everyone else is supposed to do but thinks it's 'going out of there way' or 'not their job'. I just do those things that others seem offended to be asked to do, because I know it's what I'm supposed to do, nothing more, and very little extra if that.
There is so much that just 'works out' for me that I never expect.
My credit is extended when I need just that little bit more, food is offered to me at times when I may of gone without, things are offered to me when I would have gone without, and often, these things happen in spite of the fact that I never ask for help, or rarely so.
Actually I feel embarrassed when I get things I didn't ask for, things that I need.
I wonder how much they must of watched me struggle to be so annoyed to be compelled to give me that new pair of shoes, or seen me swoon and stagger with weakness because I forgot to eat while doing a task(housework, etc) and rolled their eyes at my stupidity in not stopping to eat earlier.
And other things like that.
I wonder if I am a horrible person for often living as though Parker is not my son.
This is why I need pictures of him framed on my desk, on the fridge.
I'd put them on every common surface if I could, I need to remember that he lives.
I mean, there are many times when I have this strange sensation, as though I'm forgetting to do something.
I feel a restlessness to do something, care for something. I think it's probably because my inner instinct to care for Parker is finally crying out in me.
I am not naturally emotional, but that doesn't mean I don't care. On the contrary, I don't mean to brag, but I notice the needs of others far sooner than others do, and I usually try to do something about what I notice.
I care in a more solid way, not like emotional fog that comes and goes. I care the same all the time, not more, not less, but always the same. Is that bad? I hope not.  

Millions of children died today.. and I can't find anyone who cares

Lately I've noticed that most people don't care about things that don't directly affect them.
It bothers me. There are people who talk about scary news stories, but mostly the attitude is more 'how to I protect myself from this horror' rather than 'how do I help those poor people affected'
Now, I know that my interaction with people is likely not the norm for the whole world.
It's just that I'm somehow stuck interacting with the most insular, self-involved, short-sighted and selfish people that are possible in a limited social life that involves working at a retail store or hanging out with people, in their thirties, who are married with kids.
It seems that after a person has developed their own 'world' of cares, the cares of the world at large are rarely any of their concern.
I mean, I want to be friends with these people, they are nice, for the most part.
It's just that they give me blank stares when I ask them if they know about recent news stories or read any good books or really if they noticed the needs of anyone but themselves.
Why is it that nowadays, it's twenty-somethings and teenagers that are willing to change the world for the good. Why aren't more parents and married people making any significant efforts to help the world at large.
I mean, when it happens, it's usually such a big deal that it gets in all the newspapers and stuff!
You would think finding love, and having children, who require many many things, would make those people think more about how millions kids die, everyday, because the didn't get any food to eat, or enough food to keep them healthy.
I feel like I live in a world of bubble people, people who only care about the people who care about them and can help them or further their own agendas. Which are usually good, like raising healthy, responsible children or having a healthy marriage and healthy bodies and minds.
What I hope for is that people could go outside of their 'bubbles' of self interest, do things that cost them something, have no actual reward, and only benefit someone who cannot repay in any way.
That would be true charity. I don't want to brag, but I have tried to do things, yes, the pay off is that I feel good about doing something that costs me and to people who can't repay me.
It still kind of furthers my agenda of trying to be a good person.
I really don't want it to be about me though, it's why I like anonymous giving, if possible(isn't usually nowadays, security issues and all)
I just really wish I could have a lover who would understand and be interested in all the things that I am.

I'm selfish too, I know, but I'm trying not to be, but everyone I talk too thinks I'm crazy or stupid or they just don't want to admit that they are totally horribly selfish too to take for granted food and water and shelter while millions children die everyday...

I tried

Today I had my nieces and nephew in my care all day, and it was a hectic day.
I tried my best to keep them busy and stuff. I just feel that I fail all the time at being good with kids.
Well, to point out the small 'successes' today, they ate everything I gave them, even the carrots that I mixed in the mac and cheese(except for my nephew, who picked out and gave them all to his sister)
I mean, they didn't do any real damage to themselves or anything around them, but still, the constant fighting between them, it just make me feel like I'm an awful person who can't even keep them from fighting all the time.
It is more than exhausting and demoralizing to hear the kids you love argue and fight and then out of the blue get along like nothing happened, only to be fighting a moment later.
I don't know how my sister does it, or even, my mom.
Apparently when she cares for them, they fight far less than they did with me.
I think they still fight, but somehow, my sister and my mom can shut down the fighting a little faster.
I have no idea what to say to get them to stop, besides to say 'stop fighting' and that seems to do nothing.

The craft sets from the dollar store didn't work they way I was hoping and I regret not buying the other craft set that might have worked better.

Yeah, I just wish I could have more authority with my nieces and nephew.
It seems they just take everything for granted, and do not seem to care about the great value of things and how people have worked hard to provide things like clothes, food, toys, entertainment, homes, vehicles.
They have so little respect for these things it seems, or just... is it me... ??

I wonder if I should regret my generosity in caring for them, giving them oatmeal with strawberries, mac and cheese with carrots, ice cream with chocolate sauce, cookies, juice, for taking them to the park, for letting them play in the back yard, for letting them watch whatever they want on television. For letting them play with all the board games(they didn't ask they just tore into all the closets and took out stuff, it was totally frustrating that they didn't ASK).
I should regret doing all this, right, or should I not. They did not even thank me, but I still ache with love for them.
I wonder when they will realize how much it hurts someone who gives you all kinds of things, at their own expense, and don't even hear a thank you, but in fact are treated with the disrespect of lousy attitudes??
Maybe it was the heat making them crazy. I really don't know, I don't want them to be so mean, but they are kids, hopefully they don't understand that their behavior was hurtful. They wouldn't hurt me on purpose, right??
SIGH!!

My Miracles

For a while now I have been thinking about making a record of my most personally significant miracles.
I actually think about them often, the major personal miracles that I have experienced.
I mean, I could see many things as personal miracles, but honestly I only have about five that I think of as honest 'miracles' you know, the kind where angels show up and stuff?? Maybe you don't know those kinds of miracles, or maybe this post is not going to be read by anyone but me, so I'm the one that knows.
Anyways, here goes, stories of my miracles.
In all my miracles, well the ones I am going to describe now, I can actually tell you where they happened, like on a map and what physically happened is so obviously true because I'm still here to tell you about it.

My first miracle, the first one I can remember, besides the miracle of my salvation, which occurred a week after my first time through summer Bible school, during a boring sermon, where I first felt the Holy Spirit tell me that I am loved by God, before that, I really didn't understand, but then I did. It was the summer I was five, BTW.
The incident that I think of as a first miracle happened as I walked home from school alone, when I was five, so pretty much my first year of real school. Anyways, at the time my family lived in the smallest community in Calgary. Vista Heights, which is located just south of the Deerfoot and 16 Ave(if you know Calgary, you know where that is). I lived in a duplex(with stuck-co and green trim) just across from the park, and on the other end of that field that contained the park, is the school I first attended. From that house, my mom could technically watch me walk all the way home, almost. See, there is a hill. Well, the park, and the field, and the school, they all are lower than the road beside them. To get out of that field you have to climb out of it, and that climb is steep. As kids, my siblings and I often loved to sled on it in the winter. The only problem being that from the house we lived in, you could not see anyone at the base of that steep hill.
This is where I was attacked by some older boys on my way home, which was only about one block, maybe a block and a half technically, if you were counting from the roads on the other side of the field.
I was only walking alone because my best friend, Marian, was home sick with measles.
These boys that attacked me, they had teased me, and many others often.
They were the kind of boys that like to do stuff like that.
Here's how they attacked me, a five year old at the time, they pushed me down, face down on my belly.
Then I felt one of them (there were five of them, and I still know who most of them are, full names)
sit on my legs, another stood on my back, well, it felt like feet were on my back, but it could have been two of them with one foot each on my back. At the point where they were about to shove my face into the ground I actually clasped my hands together like you do when you pray when your a kid and shouted "JESUS HELP ME!"
That's when the strange and wonderful miracle happened. I don't know how, but instantly, INSTANTLY, I was standing, and moving. I thought I was running, but I didn't feel my feet on the ground, at least I don't remember feeling my feet on the ground, I also don't remember hearing my feet on the ground.
I do remember thinking that those boys might be chasing me, so when I got to my front walkway, I looked back at the field, to see how far I had gained on them, but they were all still just standing there, at the exact place where they pushed me down. You might think I am making this story up, but I'm not, and I don't care if you believe me or not. I do remember that my mom chided me about getting my shirt dirty, because it was a new white girls style polo shirt and I got grass stains on the front of it. As well, the first thing I did, because I did this every day, even when Marian walked me home, I would call her,or she would call me. That day I remember I called her, to see if I could come over. I could, because apparently she was well enough for me to come over and play. I remember that day I ran over to her house, which was one block down the street and three houses around the corner. When I got to her house, she said she was amazed at how fast I got there, it was like I developed some kind of Gideon like strength for running and sort of flew everywhere that day. I might be exaggerating it, but this is how I remember it.

My next miracle was when I was 11 years old and my family had just moved to this new house, the house I ironically live in now(even though I have lived many other places in my adult life). It was the first real day at this house, and of course my mom and some friends of theirs were all trying to get the house sorted out with all the stuff and all that moving entails. My siblings and I were apparently in the way so we were sent, with some neighbor kids, to the nearest park. Which is a part next too the community center, just about two blocks behind this house. In Falconridge BTW, it was a fairly new community when my family moved into the place. It used to be on the very north east edge of the city, but now there are two and a half communities where there used to be farm land. Anyways, I followed my siblings to the park next to the community center, but I didn't stay with them. I know, that was not very nice of me. I had this habit of not wanting to play the same things that my siblings did. I would rather explore, or read, or do anything else most of the time. I am that way now, I don't like to do what everyone else wants me to do. I'll do it if I really have to, but when I see a way out, I take it. So what I did was just keep walking. I don't even remember if my siblings and the neighbor kids even notice that I left them to play at the totally boring kiddie park. I had a plan though, I was only going to keep track of where I went in the neighborhood as I explored, you know, counting how many left or right turns I took or how many blocks I walked. I like getting to know places, even now, more than 20 years later, but I know as a child of only 11 years, I shouldn't have gone off on my own like that. It was summer time when my family moved to this house, of course, summer time is the best time to move with a family of school aged kids because then they can start the new year of school with all the other kids and not be like one of those oddball kids that has to interrupt a classroom one day with the teacher having to make an awkward introduction and all. That's just unnecessary and confusing for everyone because then being that new kid is hard because you have to catch up on things and stuff. It was good to move to this house in the summer of my eleventh year of life. It worked out OK.
Anyways, about the miracle that happened, well what happened was the my method of mentally tracking my progress through the neighborhood failed me. Also, because it was summer, and I forgot that I need to drink water, I had begun to feel the affects of the heat. I think it was about noon time when my siblings were sent with the neighbor kids to that park, I can't remember that part. What I do remember is suddenly feeling dizzy, because of the heat and looking around me and totally starting to freak out because I couldn't remember how to get home or how I had gotten where I was. It was mostly because I was distracted by a pink house. A pink house that still exists on that street, that is only a few blocks away from this house.
This kind of thing happens to me often, I will be thinking about things, and planning things in my mind and then I'll come across something and think 'Oh... look at that, I've never seen anything like that before' and suddenly, all my plans and previous thoughts just disappear from my mind. Also, the road I walked down has a gentle curve to it, it makes it seem like you are walking down a straight road, but really you are slowly walking down a road that turns slightly. This is why I started freaking out, because I remember that walking down this road, I passed a 7-11 and as I walked I looked back at the store a few times and saw it as a way of finding my way back to the road to the park by the community center, but because the road gently turned, about half way down it, I looked back and couldn't see the store anymore, and that's when I thought I would never find my way back home. It was also the spot where the pink house is as well. What I did, as I did before in my other miracle, I prayed for God to help me, and almost instantly, I felt a sort of calming presence. I was at a corner, and I was trying to decide which way to go when I felt and sort of heard a voice telling me to 'go straight'. I also had this strange sensation of being pulled, as if I had a sort of magnetic force inside me pulling me, gently, to cross the road. So I did, this happened several times, till I walked into a dead end street and the same gentle pulling sensation lead me to a hidden bike path that was nearly over grown with the brushes on either side of it, and the wooden marker at the beginning of the path was broken as well. I followed the bike path through to an alley, where it continued through another block, and when I got to the end of it, I was at the street where this house is, I don't think I would have found it without what I believe to be the guidance of an angel showing me the way home. I remember that my family was very annoyed with me because they were waiting for me in the van. We were going to the water park in the leisure center that is about a ten minute drive from this house, and it wasn't till then that I guess they realized that I was missing.
I was just glad to be home and everything, and not to have been left behind from the trip to the water park. 

My third miracle happened in the bedroom I write this in when I was 13, and it was really kind of spooky. When I started junior high, I had many problems fitting in and stuff, as usual. As well, things were really dysfunctional with my family(not that they are much better now) and I took it really personal, of course. I had serious thoughts of suicide, detailed plans of what I would do and everything. I really just wanted to stop existing, sometimes I still feel that way. It's not like I think I'll go to heaven if I kill myself, it just that sometimes life feels like far far far too much effort and that I am really unwanted, and I just want to somehow, erase my existence and remove myself from all the confusing pain and suffering I feel emotionally because people find it so hard to love me. The only love that keeps me from killing myself is God's love, because it seems to show up every time I doubt that life is worth, you know, living. What happened is I had a plan, and I was going to do it, my mom had pain pills for something, something about her teeth I think.
Anyways, I saw where they were, and I was going to take them all to kill myself. Not only that, I knew, at the age of 13, how to climb on top of the house from the railing of our backyard deck. I could do it, and I was going to jump off the side of the house that is hidden from street view, so that if I survived the jump, the pain pills would still kill me before anyone found me there. I didn't have the chance to even act out even one part of this plan because when I got up in the middle of the night, because I waited for a time I thought everyone was totally asleep to do this, but as I got up I saw something I know most people will not believe that I saw. Angels, and not the fairy-baby-glowing image that people think angels should look like. No, these looked like body builders, twice my height, make of sunlight so blinding that it hurt to look at them. I only saw them for a split second because one of them, I think there were about a dozen of them surrounding me, touched me and I collapsed in front of my bed, before the door, before I could take a step out of my bedroom.  What I felt was hard to describe, it felt like they talked to me from inside me telling me, viscerally,  that God loved me and wanted me to be alive. I woke up in that strange position with a even stranger kind of physical weakness, like a reminder that it had really happened. I remember even feeling like I had barely fallen, but when I managed to get up from the where I was, it was morning. Even now, if I seriously consider killing myself, it's like I feel that weakness, like the touch of an angel so strong that it can take away my freedom to do things. It's like I'm not allowed to kill myself, God won't let me, I don't know why He lets others do it, but I think the reason it works this way for me is because I devoted myself to God when I first came to know His love through salvation. It's that overwhelming visceral sense of love from God that keeps my faith strong.
 God protects me from even myself. It's humbling to think that I get so much favor from God, I don't think I deserve it.

My fourth miracle happened when I was an adult, just 19 to be exact. I had been living on my own in a shared accommodation house in the south of Calgary in a community called Lakeview, which is a very nice community. Although the bus service is not that good for that place. It was just before my sister Lydia decided to move to BC with Tyler, she had been working at a A&W where she had met him. We had gone out to a movie, I think it was for her birthday in August, but the problem was, as I found out on my way home, long after I had said goodbye, I found out when I was waiting for the bus that goes to Lakeview, the 47, and it went out of service earlier than I thought. There wasn't any other way to get home from the Chinook train station, and I was alone. My only 'roommate' at the time, a fifty-something year old woman I called Rosalie (not her real name) couldn't drive and didn't have a car or even cab fare to loan me. I knew this because I called 'home' from the Mac's store that's next the train station. I didn't have any money for a cab either. I really had barely enough money for the movie that Lydia and I went to that night, I really did a poor job of budgeting my money at that time in my life, and I didn't have any credit cards to help me either.
So I walked home from the Chinook train station at almost midnight. That's not the miracle, that I survived that walk, but what happened on the walk home on the Glenmore Trail that goes across Calgary largest man made body of water, the Glenmore Reservoir. The high way was actually pretty quiet at the time, and a kind of scary thing happened, a car was following me, and it creeped me out big time. Also, the bike trail that goes across the bridge was not finished at the time and I did something risky to get to it. I walked on the bike lane mostly, but then close to the end of the bridge, I noticed that the bike trail was just on the other side of the railing, about 15 feet down and it climbed a bit higher but I couldn't get to the higher part because it was fenced off with a 20 foot chain link fence to fence off the golf range that was there, is there, I think, I haven't been there recently. I decided to jump down to it, the bike trail below. I thought I should just hang on to the large railing, and drop myself down. I thought about my height, almost 6 feet, which would mean that the remaining distance to fall was about the height of a normal door, in my mind. This is what I was thinking.
What I didn't think about was the condensation on the trailing, I just thought it was cold, not wet. So when I slid myself under it, my arms on top, and then pushed myself off, planning to hang on to the railing. That didn't happen. I just fell off, and as I fell, totally out of control, I could feel myself falling crooked but then I felt like some kind of push on my left side. It might of been the force of an angel or the bike railing hitting my side, but it straightened me just as I landed hard on my feet. Which hurt a ton because all that walking up till that point had caused blisters on my feet because I wore the most stupid kind of shoes possible, canvas sneakers that were totally kind of small for me, but I thought they looked cool, that's why I wore them.
I know better these days not to wear things that look cool, I just wear things that feel comfortable, most of the time. All the blisters broke when I landed on my feet like that, and I screamed for a good five minutes I think, I almost collapsed right there, but I didn't, and I saw an angel again, like some kind of weird shimmering shadow and was barely visible. Somehow it seemed like this angel held me up and gave me strength to walk the rest of the way home. The best part though, I have not mentioned yet, because as I walked, I was now on the other side of the big 20 foot chain link fence that was around the walk way.
Just about a five minute walk past the bridge, there is a little car rest 'pull-over' lane. That car that was following me, it pulled into that lane, a man got out of the car as I was walking past and asked me if I would like a ride home. I had just walked so far from the bridge, and I was tired, but I couldn't get to the guy's car because of the fence, and I didn't really want to. I remember asking him "How do I know if you're safe" and the guy just shrugged, got back into his car and left. At least I don't think he tried to keep following me. I don't really know because after the chain link fence ended, about ten feet after the 'pull-over' lane, there are these huge cement sound barrier walls build to block the sound of the traffic from the community beside the road. These cement walls are about 10 feet high and have hidden, overlapping gaps that act as exits and entries that usually can't be seen from the road. I walked behind these cement walls until they ended, and I got home safely, much to the relief of Rosalie, who was so worried about me not returning at the time I said I would that she called my mom at 1am. Not a good thing. She had been waiting for me because I had lost my key and she was keeping the door of the place open for me. I totally had bleeding blisters and a strange, hand print like bruise on my side from that fall off the railing. I know I am lucky that worse didn't happen to me.
I will always be glad, even as a naive 19 year old, I didn't get into a strange mans car. Who knows what could have happened to me!!

These are the miracles that keep my faith strong, and that I think about often. I just wanted to get them recorded so I can look back at them when I need too.

Dentists are alot like car salesmen

For the first time in my whole life, I had a ROOT CANAL on one of my teeth.
It wasn't half bad. Honestly, I think I got through it pretty good.

The only thing that bothers me is my dentist seems to keep forgetting that all the work he does costs me something. I feel this way because he keeps suggesting other things, cavities that I 'need' filled, etc.

Really I don't think that my cavities need filling because they don't hurt.
I think he(dentist) forgot that he is the one who put in those fillings that fell out.
I know now that dental work is not guaranteed for a life time, but like most things in my life, I wish I was(don't we all)
Getting a root canal was very interesting, I learned that they remake your tooth out of a kind of plastic that they mold into place in tiny bits, like crafting work. That's after they totally carve almost all of the rotten tooth away.
I went to the bathroom for a pee in the middle of the procedure, just after they had pretty much done all the carving out of rotten tooth stuff. That did take a while because the freezing didn't take too well at first.
I have always had this problem, and I can't believe that my dentist doesn't remember that it takes more than twice the amount of chemicals to do the same job on me as it would do on your average person.

Yeah, I'm the kind of person for whom the average, recommended doze of any kind of chemical does not do what it would do for an average person. I often take 4, instead of 2 pills for a headache, and as a child I had terrible ear infections that nearly killed me with fever because the 'normal' doze of medicine didn't work for me, I needed double the amount to save me.

So, yeah, I at least 8 needles of 'freezing' for my mouth today. I didn't mind them so much though, I should have, but needles usually bother me more if I can see the blood coming out of me or something.
In my mouth, I expected it, and I was OK with it. I feel like I have special angels that are helping me with things that should be very difficult for me, but they're not lately. I don't know why, someone must be praying for me, that's what I think, what I hope.

Anyways, I saw the hole, all cleaned out of rotten tooth, in my mouth. Really it looked like most of my tooth had been taken away on me and a round row of little plastic sticks were a tiny little dam inside the almost non-existent tooth's hole.

I know they filled in that whole with tiny bits of plastic, like I said before, and used one of those purple lights that they use in nail salons(only shaped in a special tooth-gun thingy) to cement the plastic into place.

Now I have a super smooth tooth that's mostly plastic, I think.
My jaw doesn't even hurt too bad, just a slight ache, much less than the sharp pains I was having before, with all the rotten stuff.
It sort of makes me feel better, just knowing all the totally gross rotten stuff is gone and I won't feel that kind of pain in that tooth again. I might feel it in other teeth, but for now, I'll just hope that the day that happens is at least a few years from now.
I can't afford another $1400 bucks to have guy spend over an hour chiseling the crap out of one of my teeth and then slowly melting plastic inside the remaining hole.
All while trying to sell me more 'treatment' and such to someone like me who has less than no money and just wants to pay off all the credits cards and cancel them. 

I just don't fit in

Father's Day is coming up soon, and it makes me feel terrible, not because my Dad is dead, because I'm actually totally OK with him being gone from my life. I made peace with the fact that I will probably not see him till I too, meet my maker.
The way that Father's Day makes me feel sad is selfish, and horrible. I feel sad about it because I can't join in with it, I have no real reason to buy a card or whatever. I mean, I could buy a card for Jacob, or Parker adoptive Dad, James, or even for my brother in law, Tyler, but the fact that I can't buy one for my actual Dad.
Well, I could, but it would be pointless because he isn't physically around.
I am freaky in the belief that part of my Dad's spirit lives in me, and that because I have Jesus in my heart, and I know that my Dad is with Jesus, then my Dad is with me too. Did you follow that?? Maybe not, but I'll just continue.
So, I feel like a person who doesn't have something that everyone else kind of has, at least, what everyone I encounter most of the time has, a living human being that they can call 'Dad'.
I don't have one, and it makes me sad, in a selfish, 'I wanna be like everyone else' kind of way.
I know I shouldn't feel this way, that I am jilted and denied a luxury, when I should be missing my Dad.
Honestly, I can't imagine my Dad being a part of my life, well, I can, just a little bit, but at this point, I actually wouldn't want him as part of my life, if he were alive.
Things in my life have worked out well partly because he died. If he had not died, then I would have had trouble moving back home, or living at home, because there wouldn't have been room for me, as well my mom would have been even more impossible than she is now. It would have been a different experience, and it is unlikely that I would have had a relationship with Jacob had my Dad been alive when I met Jacob because I wouldn't have had all the time alone at home if my Dad were around, and Jacob would not have been able to seduce me like he did. If my Dad were alive, Jacob would have probably never tried to be with me in the first place. Maybe that would have been a nice thing to have happen, but it didn't, and I can't imagine things happening differently now, well, it's very difficult to imagine a different life now.
Many things in my life that I am used to now would have not happened, if my Dad were alive.
Not that him being alive would have been a bad thing, it just would have been a different things to be used to.
I used to be mad about my Dad being taken from me, but now I am actually glad that he doesn't have to endure my mom and her constant nagging and impossible-ness. He's lucky in that way.
I know God is in control and everything happens the way that it's supposed too, according to His will, so it's easy to accept the loss of my Dad as a person, but as a social status, it's gets harder for me.
There is already so much about me that makes it hard for me to fit in, it frustrates me that even something as simple as basic family structure (having two parents, etc) is something I can't even aspire too.
Also, for someone like me, that likes to give simple gifts to people I care about, I feel frustrated that I can't even buy a card.
Although Father's Day is almost a forgotten holiday, the only way I remember it is because I work in a store, in a mall, and stores and malls use every single little holiday to try and make you buy! Buy! BUY! Just anything they can make you buy. I'm just a too easily swayed towards buying things that most people don't even care about.
Every year wonder if I should send James a card, or wish Jacob a pleasant Father Day.
Then I am stuck in the usual, 'I didn't do it last year, or the year before, it might be weird to start now'
I am a procrastinator,  there are so many things I regret not doing, and feel like it's too late to do them, so then I still don't do them.
I wanted to go to my Dad's grave, but that always seems pointless, I know he is not there, not the part of him that matters, his spirit, that's already with me, and with Jesus. Still, it might be nice to look at the very expensive grave stone that somehow, has the date of birth wrong(my mom's fault). I'm sure that the people who manage the grave stones probably wish that families came more often, but it's just too far for me to go, and my mom always makes excuses about having to do other things. Oh well...
I should be glad that my grief over my Dad seems to have dissipated  for most part.
I mean, I feel a twinge of pain here and there when I think of little things that it seems like would have be interesting to have him involved, like my sister's wedding, or the growth of his grandchildren.
It might seem crazy, but I actually think he can see all this, I doubt that heaven has the kind of bounds that people think it does, I think that if you go to heaven after you die, you will instantly know about all the things in all of life, and it will all make sense, just like it says it will in the Bible. I really believe that.
I know, I'm crazy.

Why I don't want to drive or own a car/vehicle

Most people, when learning that I don't drive, like to try and convince me to learn and that having your own transportation is empowering and much much better than anything that I am currently doing.
But I beg to differ, there are many many reasons that owning and/or using a car is far more difficult and troublesome that it could ever be worth for me. Here are my reasons why

1. It costs too much and is too much of a risk. Even if I turn out to be a good driver, even if I buy a fuel efficient car, even if I can use it often and easily, it is still a risk because the world at large is a risk.

I know you might say that I face the same kind of risks on public transit, but I feel safer on public transit than I do in a personal vehicle because transit has hundreds of safety measures around to keep me safe. Things like cameras, police that are specifically assigned to public transit, heavy duty vehicles driven by drivers that have to face testing and training far harsher than an ordinary driver on the road. Yes accidents have still happened, and people have still died, but those accidents are still more rare than motor vehicle accidents by people with private vehicles. I still see way to many people using their cell phones while driving to ever feel that being a driver next to the cars with people who are not even watching the road is better than being on the light rail train built twenty feet or so from them. The train wins in safety compared to the drivers on the road when it comes to getting home faster too. I almost laugh sometimes when I see grid-locked traffic looking out the C-Train that is traveling about 30kph totally past all those hundreds of people in their cars thinking that their independent travel gets them home faster than a train. It looks like a parking lot sometimes, and I get to just coast right through it without any hesitation except for the 20-30 second stops at stations. 
I mean, it boggles my mind that people have to leave this personal property, that cost literally thousands, if not almost the same cost as your house or your cell phone and you have to leave it unattended, in public, often, regularly. My mom got her windows broken just a about a month ago while she was at work, and she was parked in the staff parking that is supposed to have extra security for them! Also, you have to replace your car or whatever every few years, that is a HUGE expense.
I have worn the same glasses for 8 years, and had the same laptop for 5, I don't want to have to change and go through all the stress of buying, renewing, managing, repairing. All these things cost money. Why pay all this money for such relatively risky venture? I often wish my shoes would never wear out, I'm not one for fashion, I just like it when things work well. Like when shoes are comfortable, but unfortunately they never stay that way, because I use them, you know, for walking, not just wearing to look nice. It's the same with cars, if they would last forever, if people drove safer(without using cell phones) and I didn't have to spend all my money on fuel and insurance and such, I might think having a car is a good idea, but that will never happen, so, it is not a good idea.
I think it's just for a wasteful to spend so much money to make life go far too fast in my opinion. A bus pass, or even regular transit fare is a much better value in my view, because I really do know how to make the most of it! In Calgary, there are almost 500 different bus routes, and three train routes, in ten years, there's supposed to be a fourth train route. There is literally bus service everywhere in my city, and they are working on making it even better. I saw a rating scale once that said that Calgary was either 3 or 4 on the best cities for public transit in Canada. Some places are not as good as Calgary, and I think everyone should take better advantage of the public services provided here at a very reasonable rate! Much more reasonable than the cost and maintenance of a personal vehicle for sure!

2. You miss so much by driving rather than doing public transit or walking, etc.

I know that it can seem like a annoying thing to wait and wait when you want to be where you are going sooner than a bus can arrive or that it seems like too much effort to walk for a few blocks, but honestly, that time spent waiting is a gift. There is so much thinking that I do when I am waiting/walking/riding public transit. I love thinking about many many things, also reading and even writing in public. If I was driving, thinking about anything other than driving would be dangerous, and yes many people do that, and it leads to many horrible accidents. Being in a car, or any other vehicle other than public transit makes me feel claustrophobic, and a little nausea too. I often feel 'trapped' even in a relatively comfortable car because in a car you're kind of 'stuck' there until your at the place where you are going. Now, I'm OK with being in a car/personal vehicle for long periods of time if that is the best choice.
That is, if I really just want to get from point A to point B. Usually only for out of city kind of traveling.
Within my own city, Calgary, I would rather travel by public transit, it feels more free to me. I can get off the bus at any time I want. I know there are usually plenty of connecting buses and options for getting back on my journey to work/store/home/library/church/etc and I know to give myself plenty of time to get where I am going. I am often annoyed by the rush that people who drive cars seems to be in, as a person who doesn't drive, the journey to a place is just as important as being at the place. All the places in between the place where I am going and/or coming from are important to me. I feel disoriented when I have not seen all the places in between. Or I feel that I missed out on stopping somewhere or learning about the whole area of a place if I don't get to take public transit to that place. I like having options and freedoms available to me. I want to know that there is a convenience store just a couple blocks away from a friend that I am visiting so that if I really need a snack, I don't have to rely on my friend/acquaintance/family member to get it for me.
I know your going to say that if I had a car than I could go to that store, and probably see it on my way there as well, but that isn't always the truth, and I would again know that every drive in 'my' car would cost me, while public transit pays for itself after about a week, if you use it like I do. Also, I like being by myself when you have a car, and you visit someone, then you want to go to the store quickly for a snack, that friend will likely want to come with, but if you say you want to take a walk, they might come with you as well, but usually not. While being around strangers on public transit is not always comfortable, but on public transit, I have the choice to move away from others most times. In a car, your stuck, in close quarters, with whoever is in the car with you. I like being with friends sometimes, but I also like being able to create a sense of my own space, you can't do that in a car. I like to think I learn about others from a certain distance and usually have more interesting stories to tell than people who drive, because drivers can hardly see other drivers, or know anything about them. I like learning about people, even if it makes me uncomfortable, it's usually just for 10-15 minutes or less, and I have the choice to move physically, away from people. Also, I like walking, I know that to look at me, you wouldn't think that I am that physically active, but I walk probably about 30 minutes a day just getting to and from work. I also stand and walk around at work most of the time, but I'm telling you about public transit, and part of public transit is walk ways. I think that more people should walk, most people these days don't even think of walking as a way of transporting yourself, when it should be the first thing that comes to mind! This is why the shoes of people who drive don't wear out like mine to, because they rarely do more than take fifty steps to their cars or something like that! Now, there plenty of walk ways in Calgary, but many of them are unfinished, which is annoying and dangerous. I think that if more people wanted to walk to places, more of these walk ways would be finished sooner, because people would be demanding that they get done. I usually love finding unique ways to get to places, that, with cars would be nearly impossible because of roads. I know of more than a few places where, to get from place to place walking, albeit through some broken chain link fence and across some empty lots, is faster than trying to get to said places by car, where a driver would have to go in circles twice or three times to get the right turn off, and even then, it's one of those annoying busy turn offs where things seem to take forever to let you through.
It is difficult to carry things that you buy when you have to walk, but I think it really makes you think more about what you do buy and how you are going to get it home. I think I am sometimes more responsible with how I spend my money because I have to carry what I buy for a few blocks. I'm thinking that's good exercise anyways, and I know I need more of that! Other people, who drive might like to pay fees to get fit at special gyms and stuff, but I prefer to just have things like carrying home 20 pounds of fruit as an effort to keep me from getting too much fatter than I already am. 

3. I don't need to buy something that everyone else has, also, cars are made with more than one seat, and usually many people, from relatively close to where I live, are going to places that I am going to as well. 

Which means that they should be willing to let me be in the seats in their vehicles that are not being used by them. My weight is not going to affect their fuel consumption very much, and even then, I am willing to pay a reasonable amount if they just ask me or allow me to do so. Also, I don't do things just because everyone else is doing them. Just because it's popular doesn't mean it's smart or a good choice for me. I do things that are good choices for me. If I really needed a car, I'd get one, but I don't and I won't. Personally, I have decided that I won't get a car unless I get a husband and he wants to move to a rural location where we build our own house. Until, or IF that sort of impossible dream happens. I don't need a car. I probably wouldn't need a car anyways, if I had a husband, even if we moved to a rural location, because he would drive me anywhere I wanted, if this hypothetical husband existed.  Or, if I got a kind of job that needed a car all the time, then I would get one, but I don't have that kind of job, and I probably won't in the near future either. It isn't wise for me to spend money I don't have, I see others do it all the time, spend money they don't have, and I have falling into that trap at times as well, and I am just escaping it and not willing to make more of the same kind of mistakes as that. If I made about 90 percent more than the cost of a car in a year, I might get one, but seeing as I make about the cost of a car in one year, it would be stupid of me to get one only to have even more horrible consumer debt than I already have. I think there are way too many cars and other personal vehicles out there anyways, and the automobile industry is too tricky and I just don't want to invest in something I don't understand on a fundamental level. I want to be the person that forces others to see that they act too rich and take themselves to seriously because they drive personal vehicles. I honestly get this impression from people who drive that they think they are better than me because they own and drive a car. As if I have suddenly turned into a ugly street person by being someone who advocates public transit and *gasp* expects them to share their resource that they under utilize on a regular basis.
I know, I'm soap-boxing about being a bit more 'green' but really, it's only by happenstance.
Usually, asking someone for a ride is a last resort for me, I always seek out all possible options, and about 8 times out of 10, I take those options rather than ask someone for a ride, even if it is taking a taxi. Taxis are public transit too, and even though they are sometimes too expensive, they can be very useful. There are some places in the world that don't even have taxis, or standardized fares, so being in a city that has plenty of taxis, and standardized fares is good, but if that option cannot be used, or if it seems reasonable for me to ask a friend who has spoken the fateful phrase at any point in time to me "If you need anything, just ask me"
I know many people don't mean it when they say it, but if you know me, you should watch out what you say, because I will call every bluff you make, that's a promise.  

4. It's too much effort, for little reward for me to learn to drive.

Most people who learn that I can't even drive, even though I tell them I have no need of owning a car and cannot afford it say that I should at least learn how to drive. But I don't see the point in learning to drive if I do not plan on immediately using that skill. Also, learning to drive is expensive and time consuming, there are many other things I would rather do, and that I need to do, rather than learn how to drive. Honestly, I think most of the reason that people want me to learn how to drive is because they can't stand it that I'm different than them. It's like when they give me fashion advice or life advice about things, I know they mean well, but so much of people's advice is 'Be Just Like Me'. Now, I am not saying that anyone should be like me, even though sometimes I too am guilty of that, I like being different, I feel like I should have the right to be different, to not actually do every single thing that everyone else does. Yes, I will happen to do many of the same things as other people, often without knowing, and that is the best way. That would mean that I am being myself, and common things being common, I know that I will do many of the same things as other people, and I like that. I also like feeling like I made the choice to do those things, and you didn't make that choice for me. I don't like being pressured into doing anything, and often I will eventually learn everything that other people have learned, in my own time. And often I will have learned other things that other people do not care about at all, but are very important to me about the world because I didn't obey people who told me to learn something, just to be like they are.

These are my reasons, I probably have more, that I just don't remember or can't really explain, but I think this is enough for now.

My Facebook 'Rules' or whatever

I am quite private about my Facebook account and I believe it is the right thing to do.
My account is for me, and I should do what is best for me concerning it, and not what others might think is nicer or something.
I know I might come off as a horrible person for all the ways that I censer my online accounts, but I think it just me being as responsible as I can about how I handle things that can be dangerous or unpredictable.
I like to avoid risk wherever possible and protect what I care about from the slightest harm in whatever way I can.
I am going to present to you my 'Rules' for my Facebook account, and also my other rules for general internet stuff.
1. I decided to stop adding people, but if I add someone, it is a trail run to see if you do anything that is useful to me or if you just do things that are annoying and useless, or worse.
THINGS THAT ARE ANNOYING TO ME ON FACEBOOK
-'sharing' every single move you make on stupid games
-promoting something commercial, a band, a show, anything that makes money
-bad grammar
-copious amounts of bad pictures
-status updates that don't make any sense
-friending me but then not responding to my messages or inviting me to anything happening in your life
-having a fake name
-a profile picture that is not your face(and your face ALONE)
- any kind of spam, or invite that leads to a customer survey that needs a cell number(I don't have a cell phone and I'll never get one!!)
-unrelated comments on a status or picture, I mean comments that are not about either the status or the picture
2. The above annoyances are all reasons why I have unfriended people in the past, and might do so in the future. Of course I make allowances for certain people, like my niece who is actually far far FAR too young to actually be on the site, but I guess my sister doesn't care about age restrictions when it comes to her daughter. That's nothing new in the world, the whole world doesn't follow age restrictions on things if they can't be caught or punished. It's really stupid, but nothing I can do about their decisions.
So, in short, rule 2 is that I will un friend you if you are not a part of my REAL life and you do the annoying things for more than a month or so. If you're in my real life, and you do annoying things, sometimes you are the exception, but sometimes you are not.
3. For myself, I use the privacy setting to the max and when I upload a bunch of pictures, especially if they are of Parker, I private them for only five people usually.
Currently, I am comfortable with having 10 people on my list, and I added my auntie Lorna just a week ago because of my Grandpa dieing and all, I will probably remove her soon because she does the annoying things. Also, I don't think she knows about Parker and I'm pretty sure I don't want her too know.
Mostly because I can't know who she will tell and how she will tell them.
My rules are mostly about keeping the facts about Parker safe, I don't want gossip spreading through my extended family about him. I don't know what they will say exactly, but I know that it could turn into something I don't like or something that doesn't sound like the truth. I just can't risk that happening.
4.When I make something public, I try and make it something that I believe with all my heart that everyone will benefit from, like my Bible study. I'm a christian, and I like witnessing in whatever way I can. I don't have the courage to tell people about the Bible face to face, but on Facebook, I share a unique part of the Bible every day. It's not repetitive like the horoscopes or those other Facebook memes about 'encouraging phrases' or anything because the Bible is a resource that can never sound trite like those can.
So I only post things that I enjoy immensely myself, occasionally a funny video or pretty song, but not much more than that, and I hope that others can follow my example and not post for posting sake but posting only what really matters and stuff, ya know?
This is all I can think of for now about Facebook, now I will tell you what I do for other internet stuff.
If it is a forum, I try to only contribute or post when I really have something important to say, or feel like I have something important to say, or I am just utterly compelled by mysteries forces to respond somehow.
It's probably a introvert thing, but I wish it was an everybody thing. I get so frustrated with the nothingness of some of the things I see on the internet when I am trying to find things that really teach me something good.
I get that sometimes you just want to 'connect' but I think that would happen better if people put more thought into what they put out there for the internet to see.
Anyways, that's all for now. This is totally rough, and I might change it, but I'll just go ahead and publish it now to see if I get any thoughtful responses and stuff. OK?


:)

EDIT
I was thinking about how I forgot to write about the things I need my the people on my Facebook list to actually do, or things that I really really really WANT them to do anyways.
1. Make status updates about what is really happening in your life, your thoughts, your feelings, things that are actually happening. For example: 'Car broke down' or 'I love coffee' or 'Got a new job' or 'It's a girl!' ...
... that kind of thing is great, and I really do want to know what is really happening in the lives of people I have on my list, otherwise, I wouldn't have added them.
2.Post good pictures of things that happen or places that are unique.
For example, if a sudden snow storm happened, take a picture of how your street looks.
OR, if you just had a new baby, I for sure want to see that, also any pictures of your kids doing new and fun things, I care about not only Parker, but my nieces, nephew, and my friends kids are just as special as family to me, I want to see the neat things kids do, that is always great, but make sure they are good pictures.
There's little point to posting pictures where I can't really see what is going on or who is in the picture if it's out of focus, or out of context or really distorted somehow.
3.Message me back, be a part of my real life, call me on the phone if I give you my number.
If you make an 'event' invite me, I will probably come to it if you give me at least a week notice.
It is very disheartening to see and 'event' posted just hours before it happens or even, the day after see activity on an 'event' of a friend that I was not even invited too. If you are on my list, you are really important to me, and I want to be just as important to you. Invite me to your events, even if you think I can't go.
4. Link things that are interesting and important, things that matter to the world at large.
I am counting on you to help keep in informed about the world, that's another reason you're important to me!
That's all I can think of for now. I hope you liked this edit! 

Life as I know it

It's been a week since my Grandpa funeral and all of the hoopla about that trip to Winnipeg and back.
Lucy was great, she seemed super excited to see us, or at least, have her food bowl refilled. I got some chocolates for my neighbor who apparently took care of the litter and might have even vacuumed a little or something. I honestly hadn't seen her since I gave her the keys the evening before the morning we left but even when we got back, I had to get my keys from her daughter and give the chocolates to her. I waited and waited for them to come home. I don't know where they went. I worries me that she could have handed off the responsibility to another neighbor that my mom and I don't trust. She's just a really overly trusting kind of lady, very nice, but I think she might almost be too nice. Well, I've had my keys back and my cat and the house were fine, totally and completely.

 Even though it felt really weird just trying to go back to normal. I really thought 'wow, I dodged a bullet! No ill affects from traveling at all!' Then I woke up on Monday with the worst head cold I have ever felt. I was mad, because I know all my moms coughing and sneezing on me is what has made me sick. I hate being sick, it's just so annoying. Anyways, I worked through the sickness for three whole days, as my symptoms got a little better on Wednesday only to get even worse with coughing on Thursday. Coming home that evening I decided that if I didn't get a good nights sleep, I would call in the next day(Friday). I had seen the schedule and I knew that they had more than enough people. Also, I was so sick I could barely make it home. I had to take a cab, and I really can't afford these things, but you do what you have to to survive. That night I was miserable, I don't think I slept for longer than 20 minutes at a time between the pain in my head and the pain in my chest and the struggle to breathe. Nothing seems to help, but I am a little better now.

Even though I called in early, for some strange reason, one of my supervisors called me at around noon yesterday, offering me a shift today to make up hours, if I felt up to it. At the time, I didn't(and don't) see how I could have felt well enough to work, but I did try calling again today, to see if the offer still stood.
It didn't which is OK, I am not well enough even now to work, I don't think. Not so bad as on Thursday, but still not feeling like I'm ever going to be well.
Why does every sickness make you feel like you are surely going to die, when that it probably not likely.
Also, why does everyone ask you if you have been to the doctors right after you tell them you're too dizzy to walk up the stairs??
To me going to the doctor about a cold or a flu is like getting a mechanic to change your tires.
I mean, that's probably something you can take care of yourself, right.
IDK, I don't drive or own a car. Going to the doctors at this point, for me, would involve traveling for at least 30 minutes, waiting at least 5-8 hours in a waiting room full of sicker people and less sicker people that I might infect with my current sickness, and I would rather spend that time in my bed, or at home, resting, doing as little as possible. Hoping that breathing will soon become easier.

I don't know why people have so little mercy for me, asking me to work when I already called in sick.
I have only called in sick about half a dozen times IN MY WHOLE ADULT LIFE to work, and that's over 15 years now.
Some people see me as so reliable, they just can't seem to believe it when something about me doesn't work. What people don't know is that I go around in immense pain and discomfort for as long as I can stand it, and still do everything I am supposed to do, but at certain point, it becomes to much. I'm getting too old to care about missing a few shifts. Life is worth more than money. I know God will provide what I need.
I feel guilty about being sick, yes, I should have taken more vitamins and stuff to avoid this, or not traveled with my mom or something, at the time, I thought I had no other choice. Now I am paying for my willingness to be near to others.
Being social makes you sick. I know that if you know me you are gonna think that I come into contact with many people as a cashier, but honestly, that's for about 2 minutes and I rarely have to touch them or allow them more than an arms length distance. The counter prevents close contact, so my job will never make me sick. It's extended time with people who have colds and stuff that want me to kiss their cheeks and hug them closely, that's what gets me sick! I do care about people, I always want to know about peoples lives and their thoughts and everything, I just don't want anyone to touch me or have to touch anyone.
I know I'll just get sick like I am now, and be sorry that I allowed anyone to touch me at all...

Going home now

Hey there, so here I am at the Winnipeg airport and I only have few minutes before I have to get on the plane, also, my battery might not last and the only plug I can find is 20 feet away from where I am sitting, and there is no seat by it at all. I think I might not be allowed to use it anyways.
So, the funeral was OK, a bit clumsy at time with words, but we did OK.
My brother was being a jerk to me yesterday when I was at the Starbucks Safeway. I guess I took my privilege of going there a little too far and because I took the key it made him very mad.
He just has to be in control and somehow have the upper hand in things, small things, like the remote or even my every move, and my sister and mom kind of just joined in the meanness of him. They get all change of mood and nice to me again when our other relatives have been visiting. There was a ton of visiting with my aunts and uncles, I really enjoyed their company, no matter the reason being my Grandpa death. There were many times of confusion that seemed scary and worrisome to me. I tried not to let it hurt my feelings, but it was hard for me. I know that offense was not meant, except my brother, and my sister and mom don't appose him and his meanness toward me because they don't want to be the object of it. I feel although, like I am the lesser person out of all the family. The least favored, but some of my cousins really encouraged me in small joking ways that were very helpful. I want to remember all the things. The fact that my Grandma remembers my birthday, that my Uncle David played with fire and that's why some of his face doesn't move the same way(Although, he doesn't look burned to me, at all, maybe because it happened when he was very very young). The lovely gorgeous cousins that were adopted from Haiti that are so very wonderful and I just have even more love for them now that I have actually met them, instead of just seeing pictures and hearing stories for others. I didn't really connect with the cousins my age, or within a decade or so, I don't really know why, but I always feel like people my age don't really connect with me, so that is nothing new. I think I should pack up the laptop now, we probably have five more minutes or so, but we'll have to wait for boarding still, and I am sitting not ten feet from our gate. My mom and I have got along OK, we even had to sleep together, which was more comfortable than I expected, it was a very big air mattress, and we had alot of blankets and such. The air mattress really didn't stay inflated very long, but when you are tired enough, it really doesn't matter anymore, all that matters is that you get to sleep, and we did. My sister and brother are still there, at that apartment, so if I left anything behind, I am sure that they will make sure to tell me. I don't think I did, but anything is possible. I really have to go now.

From Winnipeg

Hey there! I am here in Winnipeg for my Grandpas funeral, which is today, and I am at the Safeway Starbucks across the street from the apartment where I, and my mom, and my sister, and my brother, are all staying right now. It is my Grandpa's apartment, the very one he died in. Which should be creepy, but for some reason, it doesn't feel that way for us, or me at least. The funeral is at about noon, so I have about two or three hours to waste and I pilfered the keys so I don't have to depend on my family to let me back into the apartment.
I really felt the need to watch my usual slew of YouTube videos that are newsy and a little entertaining, unlike much of the local news and stuff that my brother Mike and my sister Lydia are watching.
So far, things are not too bad, I am still very sore from this very long(2 hour) walk we took back from visiting my Grandma at the nursing home, but I think I will be OK.
The flight here was weirdly OK for me, and for my mom, it was not, which was really weird because she's the one who has taken way more plane rides than I have. Although, the plane was just weird in general because you know, I was really really aware that we were traveling in a tin tube, but it never really felt like we were really in the air because the seats we got, at the wings, don't have windows, and the other windows on this plane, well... they were really small and I think I people thought I was rude for trying to look out their windows. Too funny, I know. My mom watched a movie that I have yet to finish reading the book for, and annoyed me the whole way by trying to call my attention to the movie, because she somehow forgot that I was trying to read and I didn't want to see the movie before finishing the book for it. The book I was reading was not the one for this movie, but a book that I so am going to read all the sequels too for sure. I need imaginary worlds to keep me sane, real life is often such a drain my mental resources, I need distractions as a reprieve so I have the strength to handle real life, emotionally and mentally that is. The visit with my Grandma was awkward and good at the same time, as visiting with elderly family often is when they have trouble understanding others. My Grandma is just hard of hearing though, I am pretty sure her mind is sharp because she knew me at first sight, and she hasn't seen me for 11 years. She knew all the names of every grandchild and family member in every picture that they have on a nice picture board in her room. She also seem to like talking about the other residents of the home with us, after a little while. It took her about 20 minutes to really start talking with us and most of the time, any misunderstanding on her part is because she can't hear good, and even the strongest hearing aids are not working, she doesn't like wearing them anyways because they are uncomfortable. The other residents of the nursing home were very entertaining at certain points. Several elderly men seem to flirt with my Grandma, it's hilarious. Also, the one that my Grandma pointed said something about her 'needing to go to church' and other such comments, we saw that lady try to escape from the home, only to have five carers come and bring her back, kicking and swearing like a five year old the whole time. I am glad to see that the nursing home, while being like a hospital in many ways, also tries to be proactive with a schedule of activities like 'Pub Night' (which was really just pop and junk food with singing of old songs) and very interesting names for the part of the place to make every room seem like a real 'address'. My Grandma lives at 332 Eagle Place, BTW(in the nursing home, who's name I can't remember) .
I'm still worrying about Lucy, and I really hope she is OK and everything. Nothing I can do about having to leave her alone for so long, but my neighbor should be by soon, I hope.
I should probably get back to the apartment, but I have the keys, so it's not like they (my family) can leave or anything. I can't believe how little sleep I am surviving on. I slept without moving on the air mattress that I had to share with my mom, who apparently has a really bad cold. My sore tooth is not too bad today, maybe the pain will just go away on it's own. I know, I need to see a dentist, and I will, really I will!
I love it here at the Safeway Starbucks and really just want to read a book for a while. Or at least an hour.
I hope the funeral goes OK and that my mom actually slept or something. I know I did, even with my burning painful soreness from all the walking we did to get back from the nursing home.
We went there by taxi, to get there before visiting hours were over, but then my mom decided we should walk back because getting another taxi would be too expensive. Hey though, we are saving a bunch of money by staying at the apartment, honestly, the rent has already been paid for the month, someone should stay there, really, it would be stupid to stay at a hotel now.
Oh, and my aunties had no interest in putting us up in their homes, they seem annoyed with the fact that we came, but willing to at least drive us from and too the airport. Well, they have lives and I guess the death of their Dad is a really annoying interruption, that they just want to get through and be done with. I don't really know. That's all I can say for now!

What's happening

My mom and I are going to go to my Grandpa funeral on Friday, it's in Winnipeg and we live in Calgary, so the fastest way to is fly of course. I have not been on a plane since I was eight years old. I mean, literally, on my

8th birthday(BTW, my birthday is the 23 of this month) I got on a plane to go to Winnipeg for the first time.

I remember I was in horrible pain for at least the first while. Nothing helped, believe me, I thought my head was going to explode that day. I also remember I got the 'treat' of going into the pilots room place(what do they call that place again?) and that was terrifying as well because even though it was probably totally safe, I had this overwhelming fear that I would accidentally crash the plane if I touched a switch or something. 

That was the first time I saw a room just covered with switches and stuff everywhere. It really overwhelmed me. My siblings loved it, at the time, but all I remember as my eight year old self was holding my hands together behind my back so hard that I was hurting myself a little. Although, and interesting thing for a kid to see for sure.

Now as a adult I don't think I'll accidentally crash the plane or anything. I'm just annoyed that apparently I can't bring a bottle of water with me. Oh well, it's only gonna be a hour and a half flight. I am more worried about what will happen when we get there. I really hope that I don't have to spend the majority of my time alone, with my mom. I want to be with my other relatives, because my mom is being very frustrating and ruining everything for everyone, all the time. I mean, my favorite aunt offered her home for us(my mom and I) but my mom didn't take her up on it, and said she would stay in my Grandpa apartment, yeah, the place he just died in. So now we have to sleep where my dead Grandpas body was because my mom RUINS EVERYTHING with her indecision. My sister and my brother are going to travel by bus and hopefully, they will end up in Winnipeg about the same time as we are going to be there.

I really just hope that there is WiFi near Grandpa apartment, or that we actually get to stay with my favorite Aunt. I know I just have to pray, and that people who care about me are praying that thing will be OK.

I'm the kind of person that likes to know exactly what is going to happen. My mom is the kind of person who takes forever to decide things, especially if they make her uncomfortable, and then complains or blames others for missed opportunities. It's the little things that bother me about my mom, like when we are both planning on watching a certain show, and are waiting for the time, and then she hesitates HESITATES to change the channel to the right one, for almost two or three minutes, and that is terrible because nowadays the first two or three minutes tell you EVERYTHING about the show that will make it make sense.

My mom doesn't seem to care if things make sense though, she just likes to ignore or worse, ask why things don't make sense over and over without actually trying to listen and watch and make sense of them herself!

I think she's a lost cause honestly, so I try my best to help her and be patient, but it takes most of my energy to get along with her. That's why I hope that I get to see others, besides her. I mean, I do get along with most other people fairly well, and others are kinder to me than her.

I was packing yesterday and my mom made fun of the fact that I packed a bunch of black clothes she asked me why, and I told her, well... we're going to a funeral??

She also doesn't understand my sleeping needs. I sleep with a large bear(who used to be white) and I am not going to take it with me, I am going to take with me my Dragon(you know, from Shrek) which is a smaller plush animal to comfort and cushion me in my sleep. I need so much to feel comfortable enough to sleep. If I had my way, I would never sleep in any place other than a place I was well familiar with.

But, at least my mom accepts me in some ways more than others. I mean I have a good place to live and at least I know that my mom, even though she annoys me, will never really neglect to see that I get the basics that I need. She is not malicious in her attitudes and actions, just ignorant and unaware of the consequences, like a child or a elderly person. Well technically ,she's a senior at some restaurants and places....

Anyways, I've ranted enough, I don't know how this whole thing is going to work out, but I know that God knows all the details already and everything will probably be OK and work out somehow.

I hope I survive it all.

In Memory Of

 Sometime in the afternoon yesterday, my only living Grampa was found dead in his bed. He was 81, he had suffered many things in his life, included a brain tumor, strokes, broken bones, and various other medical conditions that did not get managed very well because well, being a man, he didn't really want to tell the doctors about every little pain or problem. He really had many people fooled into thinking he was healthy enough to live at least another five years or so, that's what I thought, and I think that's what his doctors though, as long as the medicine worked the way it should. I guess something didn't actually work and that's why, after his daily visit with his wife, and some shopping, he went for a nap, and didn't wake up and when he didn't show up for a visit with some of my uncles, they went to see him at his apartment, and found him dead there.
For the last year or so, he had been living alone, which means he died alone, even though he was still married to his wife, my Grandma, who is in a nursing home. She is 87, in my mind, she is far weaker than her husband was, but she lives because she is willing to get more medical support.
Well, it's not like she has much choice, she suffers from some dementia, which worries me now, will she really be able to understand that her husband is gone, and that she shouldn't expect to see him everyday for lunch, as she has since she has been living at the nursing home? 
I am still thinking about whether or not I should go to the funeral. It would be a plane ticket that would cost me a whole pay check, but I have paid off a fair amount of my credit card debt that I could technically afford to go.
I just am not sure that I should, there are other things that would be complicated, for example, I need a cat sitter for Lucy if we are going to be there for more than a day.
Honestly, I wish I could convince my mom to only go there for a day, it could be done.
She thinks it's too tiring, and I think staying anywhere for sleep other than my own bed is torture.
I have never really been able to sleep in unfamiliar places, at least not well.
It would really be only a hour plane trip, and go there and back in a day, it could be done!

But I sound like a horrible person, trying to limit the time I spend mourning my Grampa.
I just am in a little bit of denial right now. My sisters have already posted about their memories of him on FB, but I hesitate, I mean, I remember good things about my Grampa, the fact that he drove his car, right up until the last day, and he was a pretty good driver actually.
He was the kind of old guy that would talk so much and never let you get a word in edge wise, but his opinions were interesting sometimes and he did have some interesting stories to tell.
I probably should have tried to listen more when I had the chance, I just never had the patience.
He did nice things for myself and my siblings, took us to pet stores like they were the Zoo, it was fun.
He walked my sister down the aisle at her wedding, he took an interest in his great-grand-daughters(my nieces) and seemed to enjoy watching them play the few times that they were able to visit.
He never met, or knew anything about (to my knowledge) about Parker, he never met his nephew either.
I guess everyone will miss out on things that would have been to to know.
Of both sets of Grandparents, my moms parents(the ones I am referring to this whole time) were always the ones most interested and involved in the life of my family after we moved so far away from where my mom was born and where they were born.
My mom is the oldest of 8 so she has to be there. The biggest thing that is bothering me right now is that my mom isn't willing to ask her siblings if she can stay with them. Well, really only three of them live with their families close to the city where the funeral will be, but my mom thinks it's too much of a bother to ask them if she can stay with them. That just seems so stupid to me. They should be offering, why they haven't I really do not know. It's part of the fact that we have become so removed from them, being so far away.
How do families stay close when everyone moves so far away from each other?
Is it really just funerals that make everyone come together?
I don't even know if any of the cousins will be there, and if they are, what will there reaction be to me.
Really, I shouldn't think about that, I should just be thinking about the fact that my Grandpa really died.
It's hard for me to really believe it, also, I'm slightly annoyed that this happened now, on Mother's Day weekend. Way to put a damper on things. I am just so worn out by life now, I don't feel well.