Tag: family
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Memory #21: Growing Up
As I sit in a tattoo studio, watching my sixteen-year-old get his first tattoo, I am reminded of sixteen year old me and my desire to “hurry up and grow up” mindset. I remember my sixteenth birthday vividly. It was the summer of 1990. The day was warm, as most July’s in Alberta are, Mom…
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Memory #22: More Choices
Yesterday, I was speaking about the choices I had to make when I had my son and the things I knew, or thought I knew, for certain, I would “do” with him. Though I had never intended on co-sleeping, after a few failed weeks at trying to transition him to his own bed, I slipped…
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Memory #23: Choices
When I had my son, I had ideas of how things would be. I was so certain. Well, friends, Meatloaf had it wrong. ‘Two outta three’ may not have been bad, and while I did do ‘Three outta three’, the only thing that went “according to plan” was number three. I cloth diapered the crap…
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Memory #24: Darkness
I don’t remember when it started, it just always seemed to be there. Many would say I was generally pretty happy, but I think we become very good at putting on a ‘face’ to the world. We have expectations placed upon us that we must live up to, no matter the cost. I was expected…
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Memory #25: Shattered
It all started innocently enough. It was Family Day Long weekend here in Alberta (third weekend in February) and I was hosting my brother and sister (and their families) for dinner. It was a bit of an oddity as I was deeply embroiled in my schoolwork so coming up for air, especially to host a…
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Memory # 26: Erin (Memories with in a memory)
I was fourteen when I met Erin. She was amazing. Far too cool to be dating my brother. Tall, beautiful, so cool, with black lace, Madonna-esque high heeled shoes, she breezed into our house, coming to meet us for dinner the first time. I was stunned! SHE WAS SO COOL. She worked at a car…
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Memory #29: Small town
I grew up in a small town. Well, technically, I grew up west of a small town. About 20 minutes out of town, but we did everything in the town. It seemed like the thing to do. When we moved there, the town had a population of about 3800 and had grown to about 7400…
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Memory #30: Vegetables don’t grow on trees
When I was a kid, we had a vegetable garden. I grew up in the country, on an acreage that was 3.6 acres. Which, at the time, didn’t mean much to me other than we had lots of room to run around, plenty of dirt to play in, and a ton of space to grow…
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Memory #31: Signs
Sometimes, the universe tries to tell you something, you just have to shut up and listen. Often, we ignore it, brushing it off as coincidence or bad luck. The funny thing is, even when you see it in hindsight, we are apt to keep repeating the same mistakes over and over, but I have to…
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Memory #32: People who change your life part 2
Late last spring, my very dear friend, Chris, a university professor, approached me about consulting on a research project he was thinking about taking on. He wanted me to work as the project manager for a cross-country research initiative for a combined scientific and humanities project, pioneering changes in the agriculture community. Without delving too…
The Voices In My Head 