Tag: life
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Memory #1: The boy who made me a Mom
The day you were born, everything changed. They told me to eat a light breakfast (I had toast), not to bring anything (which wasn’t totally true, we should have brought my bag). and come prepared to be induced for labour. They’d induce me, send me home, and we would wait… Probably all day for you…
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Memory #2: Meeting Chris (people who change your life)
Have you ever met anyone who flipped your world so on its head, you weren’t sure whether you were coming or going? I have had that happen twice in my life. First time it was my husband. The second time? It was my best friend, *Chris. How do I describe Chris? There is the technical…
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Memory #4: In a blink
Imagine for a moment that you woke up one morning with a simple crick in your neck… Nothing too bad, just like you slept wrong. Thinking it would work itself out, you head off to work and go about your day. By noon, your arm is numb, your hand is throbbing, and you’re beginning to…
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Memory #5: More than a diagnosis
I’d been asleep when the call came in. ‘Dr. H wanted to let you know he’s referred you through to see a neurologist as the MRI confirmed there are MS lesions on your brain.’ It took a minute for what I was hearing to register, so I asked her to repeat herself. The news didn’t…
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Memory #6: Accident
Warning: This post is hard. Probably the hardest yet. It is about my niece’s accident from when she was two years old. As I’m writing the warning, I’m almost in tears. There are two events in my life, this one and one with my youngest nephew that I cannot mention without crying. It was the…
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Memory #8: Becoming domesticated
When I was twelve, I sold my sewing machine to some missionaries who came to the garage sale we were having. It was a good little workhorse and I’d sewn many an item on it. Doll clothes – for my barbies and Cabbage patch dolls. Mostly made-up patterns because I couldn’t follow a pattern, I…
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Memory #9: We are family
I have a family. Originally, there were five of us. I’ve spoken of my Mom, Dad, sister, and brother. For my first sixteen years, that was it. It worked, more or less. We had some good times. I remember piling into the family pick-up truck and driving to Jasper National Park for camping trips, seeing…
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Memory #10: Travels with
I don’t know how long I have desired to travel abroad, or if I have. However, as I started planning my fifty things to do before I turned fifty, I decided I wanted to leave the North American continent. I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go, I just knew I wanted to go somewhere,…
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Memory #11: My sister
I would be remiss to write fifty memories and not write about my sister. She has been my biggest champion, critic, companion, supporter, bringer of snacks, chaos creator, co-conspirator… The list goes on. And on. And on some more. There is no one quite like the great Mrs. Lizzardo (my Dad’s name for her when…
The Voices In My Head 