No opportunity for a vacation in the near future, perhaps a one day ‘stay’cation is in order. Seeing as it’s the Canada Day holiday here in Canuck land, and 150th no less, perhaps it would best be called a ‘St’eh’cation. This is obviously my inept attempt at some Canadian humour.
As our childcare responsibilities have been frequent it seems that the ‘me’ time or ‘our’ time has been somewhat restricted. We have had the g-kids almost every day and in fact we filled in for the closed daycare on both Thur. and Friday. On Friday we even hung out with our g-nephew Mason, he likes
(more here http://wp.me/p8mDx0-t1)
Oh my lil’Buddy, how my heart aches, for you! You are struggling and we are struggling with you.
Our pain is for my grandson, Madden. He was recently diagnosed with ADHD and was prescribed medication for it. I know nothing about the various drug therapies but of course we all hoped this would be put him well on the way to having a somewhat ‘normal’ life, without the angst and stresses associated with the disease. He showed signs of calmness almost immediately and steadily improved to the point where he was ready for the next step, an increase in his meds. That’s where the train came off the tracks.
Pay attention, to the attention. A catchy phrase if I do say so myself.
I’ve taken to journalling for/to each of my grandkids, an idea that came up from a YouTube video I inadvertently came across one night. In the video, which was oriented toward journals, the creator mentioned he has kept journals for each of his grandkids and I thought it was a great idea! Nuf said, I’ve done it.
Ok, I had to do it. Pictures of grandchildren are at some point mandatory. In this case he, my grandson Madden, is standing “Up”. This is not the first time but certainly one of the first. He looks like such a little man.
Also where I thought I might have some difficulty finding something else “Up”ish, in fact I found a number of shots that could be tied to the “Up” concept (albeit loosely in some cases). Enjoy.
The Snowdrops came “Up”
Poppa, pick me “Up”
In this case I’m “Up” the creek, and no paddle
Here’s my Easter basket, what’s “Up” inside it?
Look “Up”, waaaayy up.
This weeks photo challenge is “Up”. As always to see additional posts please go here, to the Weekly Photo Challenge page.
I just got a call from Dad. I was out (am out) for my walk so he left me a voicemail.
“I’m a little short of money”, he said.
Of course there was more but this is the jist of it. Now I don’t know what that means, does he have no money in his wallet, or did he go to the bank and think there was no money there? Shouldn’t be the latter because I just went online (from my phone, cuz I can) and checked his balance. Inquiring minds need to know. I’m confused. I’ll call him shortly to get the lowdown.
I still feel frustration when I talk to him. That alone pisses me off, that I get frustrated, never mind whatever he calls about. And it’s not like he’s always calling, but typically when he does there’s some issue that needs resolving. Often it isn’t even an issue but more like a situation where he has something confused.
Look at me, who’s the whiner in this story? I should be grateful he’s still around. I AM grateful. We never know what we’ve got until after its gone, that’s a for sure. He ALWAYS tells me he appreciates me, and whatever small things I can do for him ARE small in the big picture. Next time I whine slap me upside the head, k?
As I’m sitting here in the coffee shop, smelling the fresh brew and warm pastries, I love to watch the people. I think I could study them all day, trying to figure out their stories. Right now there’s a man and small child across from me playing tic-tac-toe.
I think he must be the grandpa, the boy his grandson. He’s appears to be about my age (old) but you never know these days, it could be a second relationship for him. What you can tell is that he’s thoroughly enjoying the toddler, and trying to teach him the game. They chatter back and forth and occasionally I hear a giggle from the boy, or a guffaw from the elder. There’s pride in the grandpa’s eyes.
These scenes warm my heart. I think of the future with my grandson, perhaps I’ll teach him tic-tac-toe as well. Maybe we’ll go for coffee when he gets older. I hope so.
These situations makes me feel somewhat in limbo land. I think of my Dad and his needs. I think of his care, and what his future may hold. I think of my connection with him, our past.
I also think of my kids, I ponder what could have been with my son Shawn had he not died. What would we have done together? How would we have bonded? This makes me sad.
And I think of my grandson, and what our future might look like. How many things we can do together. This makes me optimistic and happy.
So it’s about life isn’t it, the past, present, and future. They are all so important. How do I connect them?
So today (technically Mar.10) I’m officially a grandfather. Whether I’ll be Grandpa, Gramps, or I’m thinking Poppa, I am still very happy and can’t wait to meet the new addition. His name is Madden, 9 pounds 5 ounces, and he is cute as a button. Officially it happened last night around 8 pm and while we couldn’t be there we were with our daughter in spirit.
“Am I afraid to die?” my wife asks me over lunch the other day. Not your typical table-side conversation topic, but timely nonetheless. And the question didn’t come out of the blue, but rather as an extension of an ongoing conversation on my mental state and well being. I have been mentioning to her that I’ve been feeling more anxiety lately, that it seldom seems to leave me and it’s particularly acute when I think about work and having to continue at my present employ for some time yet. Anxiety I can’t seem to shake, a fear and trepidation of some significant event about to engulf me, perhaps not dying but death itself.
She is well aware of my depression, and even dealt with it herself as a result of the PTSD she suffered after the death of our son. “Are you afraid to die?” she said, “because I’m not, I will see Shawn.” (our son). Just the thought of that conversation brings tears to my eyes and a heaviness to my heart. The thought of our son and seeing him again in the hereafter is emotional to say the least. I would relish that time, but do I desire death to achieve it, No. I can’t say I want to die, nor do I think she “wants” to die, but am I afraid of dying? Perhaps……., of death, more so.
I don’t think I ever really thought about my death in any depth before. Of course we all probably consider that it might happen to us one day (joke), and I wonder if we are ever really prepared. That, I think, is the crux of it for me. I do not feel prepared. I feel like my life is being wasted in its present use, I want so much more and yet feel trapped in my circumstances, held captive by my lifestyle and material wants, incapable of breaking free and shaking off the chains that bind me. Saddened by my weakness, overpowered by my grief.
One of our daughters is pregnant, due in March 2012, gender unknown. It is a sign of rebirth, an indication of life and how life should be. The future incarnate. It is maybe one more reason I am afraid of death, I want to meet my grandchild and live my life so as to see it grow and learn. To be part of that learning, to teach much as I’ve taught my other children, to learn how much more I can love.
I have so much to live for. Such a life we have in this great country, so many freedoms and opportunities, perhaps I am overwhelmed by my fortune. I realize I am afraid, and worried I won’t be able to fulfill the destiny I’ve envisioned, of living with and loving my family. I have also come to understand It’s not death I’m afraid of, it’s not having life.
A picture’s worth a thousand words, or so they say. I try incorporate that axiom in my postings and where I personally find it effective I can only assume others do too. Inserting a picture or two can compliment the word and provide some context. Photography is a powerful medium, the use of it can be amazing. Art in any form can be equally effective in capturing a moment, an idea, and often an emotion.
I’ve often thought I should get back into photography, it was a passion 15 or more years ago, maybe 20 or 25 when I add it up. My medium of choice was black and white, and film of course not digital. It was where one could focus on the shapes, figures, and positioning rather than relying on colour. My subjects were primarily my children, then only toddlers.
it was a means for me to express myself, a time well before my writing and blogging wasn’t even a concept as far as I know. It was a way for me to chill and commune with nature or spend time with loved ones. It was release and relaxation, awe and awesome, beauty and certainly beneficial.
I’ll have to get another camera, or perhaps do as others have done here and used only the camera in their phone. That would add to the challenge and require me to put my thinking cap on so as to frame shots appropriately and capture the essence of the moment.
It could only help me, it would inspire me to be optimistic and think good thoughts. It should bring me out of the darkness and into the light. It will help me spell those thousand words.