Gramma Leah

Here we are again, Sunday morning. I’ve felt a tug, a yearning for months now. Whenever it’s quiet, or I’ve slowed down for a minute, it’s there. A voice? A knowing? A nudge? Some call it your knowing. Everyday, at least once a day, it’s there. As I was mixing my instant caramel iced coffee this morning, …my latest obsession, thank you Maxwell House, I stopped stirring and listened to my knowing. Write. That’s all it said. That’s all I felt, that’s all I heard. So beauties, here I am, writing. Fitting it’s a Sunday, because this gal has some confessing to do.

I’ve had this blog for over 12 years. I used to write everyday. Then I stopped. I would say it was because of the shop closing, job changes, life stresses, you name it, I would use any and all reasons as an excuse for why I wasn’t writing. It’s all bullshit. It is. I stopped writing because I stopped writing. No one else to blame – easy to do, but not the truth. I’ve come to realize I was playing the blame game. Blaming job changes, job losses, family struggles for the reason why I couldn’t write. I stopped writing because I chose to. I stopped writing because I listened to the naysayers. There was a time I wrote about speaking your truth and being your own beautiful, and there I was not practicing what I preached. Well, fuck that shit.

It’s been a time for us all. These last 5 years have melted together, time doesn’t seem real some days. The past 2 years have been a journey for yours truly. It began in October of 2023, when I was fired from a job I was recruited for. Long story short – I wouldn’t accept corporate funds to my personal account – a tale for another time. They say things happen for a reason, and usually my response to that is with my middle finger, but it worked out. I was able to be home to help my family. Hubby had emergency cataract surgery, both my parents had some health issues, I was able to be home for my child who is in need of support. My hubby is out of the house at least 12 hours a day, so I was home for home repairs, like ridding our home of mice – I wanted to live near the river didn’t I? Shout out to Ontario Wildlife Removal – humane treatments and no more mice. I also had time to slow down and complete a thought, which isn’t always as great as one would think. I had time to look at my part and my actions, or non actions for that matter, in my life – and anyone who knows me knows how much I LOVE admitting a short coming or realizing where I’ve screwed up. My child has had many a knock on their door from me just to hear me say “I have another thing to apologize for” upon opening their door. If I can offer any advice on parenting, it’s this. Listen to your kids and apologize to them. It doesn’t matter how you feel about what they are saying, trust me, it can really suck. As parents, we have to acknowledge our kids feelings and recollections of what transpired. There will be time later to excavate the past, but the dig cannot begin until you let them talk, and I’ll say it again, it can really suck, BUT! the connection after is so worth it. All that to say, yes, I was “busy”, but still wasn’t writing, still making excuses why I couldn’t, still not listening to my knowing.

Tomorrow my father goes in for heart surgery. He is in good health, his ol’ ticker needs some help, which he will be receiving tomorrow, triple by pass and valve repair – and because we’re in Canada, all we have to worry about is paying for parking and my Dad’s recovery. Over the past few days, many dear friends have been struggling, aging parents, loss of a child, divorce. Maybe that’s why I decided to listen to my knowing today. Maybe today’s tale will make someone smile, feel seen, feel less alone. I know I feel less alone when I write. I feel the hug of my Gramma Leah when I write, I feel as though her hands are on my shoulders and she’s looking over my shoulder waiting to see what words will appear next. (I do know she isn’t fond of my curse words.). I can’t explain it, nor do I wish to. It’s magical.

Listen to your knowing. I know it’s scary, trust me. I know it seems easier to push it away. It’s telling you who you are, what will help you, where the answers you’re looking for are. It’s your magic waiting for you to be magical.

This August, yours truly will be 46. I have found my forties to be quite liberating. It is as if I have returned to my 8 year old self. I thought I was pretty cool. I could throw a football like a boy, I could double dutch like no one’s business, I never worried about what others thought of me, if you liked me, YAY! …if you didn’t, that was okay too. I had a 64 pack of Crayola crayons (with the built-in sharpener), I could make my parents laugh, life was good. Remember that person? Before the world got to you. You woke up everyday excited for the day, wondering what was around the next corner. Waking up with intention, be it to ride your bike without holding onto the handle bars or getting to the arcade in time to be the first in line for PacMan. Being picked first for basketball or coming home to a fresh pack of Oreo’s waiting for you on the kitchen table made you feel like you could conquer the world. Making a friend was as easy as saying “I like the color blue” and another person saying “Me too.”. If you argued with a friend and feelings were hurt, saying sorry was enough. If an explanation was needed and given, it was believed and words were forgiven. We didn’t hold grudges, and even if we tried, by the end of the day we literally forgot what happened and simply carried on.

I know many women who are 35 and under, and I see them struggling, with their self image, their friendships, their marriages, their parenting, you name it, the struggle is real. Today’s Sunday Confession is to help ease the anguish, to help women of any age to ease up on themselves and know that they are not alone.

there will be days you will look in the mirror and wonder “Where did I go?”and that’s ok. It happens to us all. I am here to tell you, you are still there, life is getting in the way. Take a breath and remember a time as a young girl you accomplished something on your own. Feel that memory. Take a moment to really feel it. Open your eyes.I promise when you look in the mirror you will see yourself.
do not be ashamed if you are not relishing being pregnant. I was sick from the moment of conception to the moment my daughter was delivered. When I say I was sick, I was sick. I threw up at least 15 times a day…if you need a washroom in the Kitchener Waterloo and surrounding area, I know where they ALL are. I am here to give you permission to not find your pregnancy magical. I am here to give you permission to find pregnancy weird, uncomfortable and down right gross at moments.
it is just fine if you like living on your own.
it is just fine if you do not want to have children…trust me, all the people telling you “it’s life changing” or “you’ll regret it” have probably yelled at their little miracles 10 times that day and are wondering who smells like spit up, them or the baby.
your thirties are your twenties, just with more financial stability (mostly). It’s okay to feel like you have know idea what you are doing. Trust me, the majority of us are winging it, or trying to mimic what we saw our parents do, who were probably mimicking their parents….see, we are all just trying to do our best.
the life you dreamed for yourself may not come to fruition. It’s gonna hurt. You’re going to feel like a failure. You are not. Pout for a while, throw a temper tantrum, have some chardonnay if needed, then let it go. In my experience, when life threw me curve ball and I felt like I just kept swinging and missing, sooner or later, I ended up hitting it out of the park.
try your best not to compare your life with your friend’s lives. Sure they may go on more trips then you, or have a better car or apartment, maybe they even have a house. More often than not, they are mortgaged to the hilt, credit cards are at their max and they are living paycheck to paycheck. Remember – Comparison is the thief of joy.
some kids eat paste, some wet the bed until they are 6, they will interrupt every single one of your conversations, they will ask 20000 questions before 10 a.m. on a Sunday. Being annoyed with them does not make you a bad parent.
there is no such thing as a perfect marriage, so stop knocking yourself out. It will be messy, there will be tears, arguments, resentment, laughs, embraces, every emotion under the sun. As my Gramma Leah said “the secret to a good marriage is not to fall out of love with each other at the same time”.
if you have to work full time and have your kids in daycare until they are in school, that’s what needs to be done, plain and simple. Let the “looks” from the neighbourhood Moms roll off your back. The opinions of others doesn’t pay the bills.
Your 30’s will have many bumps in the road, the journey is worth it

In my forties I have found I feel comfortable in my own skin, I like my reflection, and with each passing month, I find that the opinions of others do not mean as much to me as they used to and when asked my opinion, I give it. It isn’t always what one wants to hear, my opinion is honest. I have come to realize that if the intention behind your actions or words is not honest and true, there is no honor in them, to yourself or others and sooner rather than later, feelings are hurt and trust is lost.

For those struggling today, let me tell you, like a fine wine, life gets better with age. It may not pretty or what you hoped for. The way I see it, if you are fortunate enough to rekindle a spark within yourself, are able to realize your true value and let things go, learn from your mistakes and leave that baggage at the door, life is pretty good.