I could write a book....

Confidence is a fragile, uncertain quality.  At times when I'm the most confident, or the least; often I cannot discern why.  What I do know is I never display my best when my confidence is low :( .

Recently, my insecurity at an all time high, (for no apparent reason), I suddenly had a bout of uncertainty about my wife's devotion.  My imagination ran wild and I was sure she had no interest in me any longer and in fact fancied another.  I was devasted. 

Keep in mind, this was a story written by me, read by me and believed by only me.  For days I stewed in this boiling pot of emotions.  I was sullen, preoccupied and vacant.  I had trouble functioning.  Heading off to work each day took so much effort by the time I arrived I was exhausted.  When I arrived home I was bereft. 

While my body and spirit were completely depressed and silent, my mind raced.  I added adjectives and illustrations to my story.  This was not only a believable tragedy; it was inevitable.

After a couple of days (that felt like weeks), my wife asked what was going on with me.

I mustered all the courage I had and shared with her what I had discovered.  Once I gave the drama a voice, it spewed out of me, unstoppable until the lump in my throat gave way to sobs. 

Quite obviously my wife found my drama unbelievable.  As much as I had lived the reality for the past number of days, she shook her head at the creativity of my work of fiction and refused to consider it.

"What can I do?"  The simplicity of her question calmed me.  What coud she do?  Well, quite obviously nothing, because she had done nothing to create the drama. 

I was ashamed.  As my insecurity began to dissolve in her arms my embarassment grew.  What had been a crushing reality in my mind only moments before became a crazy notion within minutes.  There was nothing in the reality of our 20+ years together to support my drama.  The flush of humility rose in me as I considered the craziness I had entertained over the past few days.

I had totally abandoned the reality of our love and replaced it with a work of fiction.  I had lived completely in my head and ignored everything around me.  My mind is a powerful force.

Over the next week I swallowed my pride and allowed my wife to forgive my preoccupation.  I focused on her love and forgiveness and transformed my shame into humility.  I let her love me in spite of my imperfections and I was gentle with myself as I gingerly stepped back into our life flow.

When old insecurities and judgements crawl into my consciousness I will trust what I know to be true and dismiss thoughts that do not support my confident self.  I am meant to be wonderful.  I believe I am loved.  I deserve the best and that's what I married.

She's 28....

I was 22 and had no real idea of what being a mom would mean.  I was aware I loved you before I saw you.  I loved being pregnant.  When I was more than two weeks overdue I was so impatient.  Labour and delivery were no problem for me.  I felt serene.  I was so excited to hold you!

When I brought you home I was further smitten.  You were beautiful.  You were perfect.  You were content. 

Very quickly you began engaging!  You smiled and with wide eyed wonder took in your world.  You cooed and smiled even more.  You loved people.  You captivated your Grandma Verlyn.  She LOVED you!  You could not have been more adored by her.  She encouraged your curiosity.  She allowed your self expression.  She hugged and cuddled you.  She let you be rough.  She hung on your every word when you started talking. 

Two times especially you could have burst her heart with pride ~ You were three and you had a new cabbage patch doll.  When I asked you what you would name your baby you responded immediately, "Berlyn!"  You were four and we were at the kitchen table with Grandma Verlyn and her sister Gertrude who could have been her twin they looked so much alike.  It happened though that they often quarrelled and many times over the years went months without speaking.  This was a rare occasion that we sat together.  I don't know why but I said, "Jan - who does Aunt Gertie look like??" knowing of course you would say Grandma!  But no, you gazed seriously at Aunt Gertie for many minutes and then you looked at me and answered, "A giraffe."  You could not have had a better response according to Grandma.  I was mortified!  (and amused in spite of myself.)

You consistently asked me questions I couldn't answer.  I was so proud of you - always.  You amazed me with your wit, your charm, your smarts, your fun loving nature, your curiosity, your determination, your empathy, your compassion and so much more.  When you were 9 years old you asked me, "Is Ky just gay or is she gay with you?" 

As a teenager you were a leader, a motivator, a friend, a performer.  You were amazing.  You watched out for your brothers.  Everyone loved you.  I missed you.

As a young adult you were determined and focused.  You worked hard and played hard.  You lived life.  You took responsibility for yourself and you loved and supported your friends.  You were loyal.  You were animated.  I was proud of you.

You have developed into a beautiful, composed, confident, educated, loving, dedicated young woman.  I am so proud of your sense of yourself.  I love how you "need to know"!  I love your passion for helping people and making a difference.  I'm so proud of your choice for a partner ; )

Jan - you're great!  Take a deep breath tomorrow as you turn twenty-eight and acknowledge your perfection!  You are unique and just as God intended.

Love Mom

Memories of Dad....

The other night we drove up to see our grandson.  I could tell as soon as we arrived the energy in the house wasn't good and something was bothering Mike.

We played with Raymond a bit and then Ky rocked him to sleep.  We were there maybe an hour.

The phone rang and since the portable was right behind me I reached around to get it and pass it to Mike.  It was an awkward reach, and instead of picking it up I bumped into the base and phone fell from the cradle and crashed to floor.  Oooops.

"For F--ck sakes!"  Mike yelled, "You're as bad a Kim!"  He jumped up from the couch, grabbed the phone and chatted with his cousin.

I was shocked.  I was aware of a huge lump in my throat and started to will myself not to cry.  I swallowed hard as my eyes met Ky's.  I could see her compassion; she knew what was happening for me.  I felt as though I was 10 years old.  I had just done something wrong - maybe spilled my glass of milk or something else as horrible as that.  My dad was in the room admonishing me, shaming me, making me feel responsible for every bad thing that ever happened to him. 

I had to get out of there!  I needed to leave so that I could express this fresh batch of shame without hurting anyone else.

I managed to make small talk for a couple of minutes and then said to Ky, "Well, honey I think we better go - it's a long drive home.  Thanks for the visit you guys - it's always so great to see Raymond."  Kim glanced my way and then at Mike.  "Mike, apologize to your mom!"  "I'm sorry mom."  Mike looked at the floor and the shame I felt moments earlier was now born on his shoulders.  "I'm sorry I dropped your phone Mike."  I squeaked, then quick hugs, and we headed to the car, tears trailing down my cheeks.

As we drove away Ky's hand slipped over mine and her love and support fell around my shoulders and held me while my tears eased the pressure in my chest and soothed the lump in my throat.

I felt bad for Mike because I knew there was obviously something going for him that had him stressed and that he had been unable to resolve before we arrived.  In no way did I hold Michael responsible for my reaction to his outburst.  Someone without my issues may not even have acknowledged his bad manners : ).  I spent the rest of the drive home marvelling at how deeply my childhood hurts run and knowing this most recent opportunity to process was a gift.

This morning Mike called.  He was inviting us up for the day, but unfortunately we have other obligations.  He said, "Mom I'm so sorry I yelled at you the other night."  I smiled into the phone, "I know you are Mike.  It's ok.  I already forgave you.  You know, my hurt about it had nothing to do with you.  When you yelled I felt like I was 10 years old.  I was remember my dad yelling at me and making me feel stupid all the time.  My emotions had nothing to do with you honey - really."  I took a breath and finished my thought, "Mike, I was thinking on the way home about it.  I just hope that you find a way to work out your frustration and anger in a way that doesn't impact Raymond.  Of course he's a baby now, but as he grows he'll make mistakes and if you yell at him like that it will hurt him Mike.  Here I am, still hurting so much from things my dad said to me and how his anger was directed at me.  I just hope you don't do that to Raymond."

"I know Mom." he said.

I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to share this truth with Mike in a way and in a time that allowed him to hear it.

My newest role.....Grandmother ~

Magical. It's the best word I can come up with to describe my newest role. So many times I've witnessed others become grandparents and listened to them talk about how wonderful it was, but until July , 2010 I didn't understand what they meant.

For me the magic started while I was watching our son mature over the 9 months he waited for his baby. I witnessed his attentiveness to what Kim ate and his coaxing for her to incorporate more vegetables, or admonishing her ice cream cravings. I smiled when she told me about him rubbing her back or making something special for dinner. As he debated names with Kim, I discovered how solidly traditional he really was.

When he called us at 9:30 pm to say Kim's water broke I heard the fear through his excitement and knew he wanted to hear my voice for comfort. At 4:00 am when I answered the phone my heart may have burst when he said, "It's a Raymond. Mom! He looks like a little old man."

Ky and I laid awake then for the rest of the early morning talking about what this might mean for us and guessing what the future held. We both took the day off and drove to the hospital for visiting hours at noon. Knowing Kim would appreciate something sweet we stopped at an ice cream shop and brought her a Sundae. (She loved it.)

Mike met us at the door and beamed with pride. Neither of us had ever seen Mike so happy. This was a great time for him. He boasted how "excellent" Kim did and shared stories of the delivery drama and incredible aftermath of the birth. He was clearly in love with his little boy.

Seeing Raymond was just like looking at Mike! I was amazed. He was perfect. He was peaceful. He was so vulnerable. From the first moment I met him I knew this relationship would be like no other.

Ky and I left at 2:00 pm when visiting hours were over. We drove to St. Mary's, had a late lunch and a glass of red wine so that we could toast the new grannies! It was a oddly romantic time for us. I loved it.

Back to the hospital for evening visiting hours. More celebration. More love. More peace.

Raymond is now seven weeks old. He smiles at us or furrows his brow and frowns. He is starting to show some personality, and every time we see him there are changes. We have already babysat so mom and dad could get some sleep, and we're looking forward to having two days alone with him next weekend.

I know that we will make a difference in his life and he in ours. It's started already.

Grandmothering is magical!