Category — Family

In honour of our sweet Madeleine’s first birthday, the Regional Assembly of Text is hosting their monthly letter writing party.

While the letter-writers are tip-tapping away, us and our sweet bean will be enjoying a family picnic in Queen’s Park, where Madeleine will bite her eight pearly whites into her first bit of cake.

I can’t believe she has been with us an entire year. She is our joy and delight — and this feeling, this enormous swell of abandonment, just grows and grows.

I made her a crown.

Thank you, Jesus, for the best year of our life. For her, our greatest gift.

….

Home is asking to be wrapped. Rooms wait ready to spill out door, into arms of strangers, onto trucks, into cardboard, buried in storage, carted on boat. Too many bins and boxes for my little head: what to keep, what to store, what to sell, what to bring to Bowen, what to ship out east, what to give to family, what, where, how, when…

But I know life sits out of hand. In arms a billion star courses wide. And I take her hand, now one-year-old, and walk our path to smiling eyes. Sit in her chair at our coffee house. Visit our park, swing our swings, dip in our wading pool, visit our friends, roll all over green carpet thick, laid out under our trees, eat sushi where they remember our alaska rolls and our names.

Soon, together three, we will light new paths, grieve old ones, sit huddled in front of burning hearth, welcome friends at ferry dock and feed hungry mouths, rest weary heads in our island home. We hear the Voice who’s laid out our mornings, years, seeking Face that tells our story. These six months will set a course, I can feel it.

There is much ahead. Family to forge. Words to write. Poetry to spill. Schooling to ingest. Home to make.

I met a friend while visiting in-laws last week who told me her story. Of her travels to Romania, working with Gypsies, igniting a call to international law. She’s running toward it. This relit my heart to study more: media’s impact on democracy — how our incessant ingesting of information shapes our understanding of citizenship. Perhaps a Masters in Toronto, time and prayer will tell.

Much is afoot in my little writerly life. The book, the one about women who seek Jesus but don’t all look like suburban mammas, edgy, world-changing gals who rock tats, paint up storms, influence politics here and overseas, is out as a proposal… seeking an agent / publisher. I’ll post some pages so you can see. Poetry is being submitted, I’ll share as it makes its way onto pages. I hope to start having others share their poetry here. I’ve been inspired by my friend Emily’s imperfect prose Thursdays.

My sister-in-law, Brittany, and I have a crazy idea of starting a little onesie company, using my husband’s adorable old Scouting badges: Badge of Honour onesies on Etsy. We’re setting up shop as I type.

For now we take the days as they come, living them full, here in our home in Burnaby… Thank you for sharing this adventure with us.

Photo by lovely design

It has hurt my heart just a little bit more each month how much I wish Madeleine could have her very own room. A bright, lovely space with all of the little things little girls love. Shelves brimming with books. Felt flowers dangling from the windowsill. A handmade banner stringing the letters of her name. Baskets chalk full of trinkets and toys.

Right now, in our two bedroom place, she has to share with our desk, printer and clunky filing cabinets. But not for long… Soon she will have her own room on Bowen Island and then in Toronto, where a three bedroom home is planned. 

Sharilyn, of lovely design, continuously inspires me with the delightful space she’s created for her little Adelaide. Soon my sweet girl will have the same. And I am so grateful.

I’ve been a bit silent about our planned moves on this space, mostly because I’ve been in the midst of wrapping my own head around it. It feels like the ground beneath our feet is shifting but, surprisingly, I feel unafraid.

I am typing this post from Toronto. We arrived on Friday after a perfect travel day with Madeleine. I was even able to watch an entire movie (Date Night — awesome) while she slept in my arms on the plane. We’re here for ten days for Michael’s work and to explore neighbourhoods. It’s become increasingly clear that Michael needs to be here for work as he is the sole member of his work team in Vancouver. His role has given him a lot of flexibility, even allowing him to work from home the majority of the time and this has been a huge blessing, but the time has come to make the shift east as things transition within his company.

I have lived in Vancouver all my life, save for three months in Queenstown, New Zealand in 1998 and in Toronto three months last year. The West Coast is my home. It pains me to leave. The ocean is my lifeblood. I adore the green, the mountains, rainforest, the islands. I relish being close to my parents, most of my siblings and my grandparents. I love Main Street, Gastown, Granville Island and Commercial. I adore the girls at our neighbourhood coffee shop who greet Madeleine and I with shrieks and giggles and discounted coffee every morning. I love play dates with my mom friends: Wendy and Claire, my Mother’s Unfolding gals. I love Jenn, Megan, Marisa, Avital, Steph, Hoda, Mathew… and all of my dear friends in my beautiful hometown. Yet change calls and I know in my heart it’s the right thing. 

Being here has given me even more hope. We explored Queen West, hippy-dippy Harbord and the Ossington neighbourhoods yesterday. We enjoyed brunch with Amanda and Dean at a lovely french bistro near St. Lawrence Market this afternoon. Afterwards Madeleine and I rummaged through the outdoor market befriending sunny Toronto smiles. It’s a lovely city. There’s much in store for us here.

Linux Caffe, Harbord Street, Toronto

But I know moving downtown will be a huge transition, not as difficult as leaving our family and friends, but nearly. So, though our condo went on the market over a week ago, we’re not moving to Toronto until next spring. After spending three months here last year, I refuse to make the move at the peak of ice-winter. I want to move to the city when the buds are brimming. So to pass the time we’re going to live on Bowen Island from October to March, after our house sells.   

It’s Michael’s gift to me. Before moving our family to the downtown bustle of Canada’s largest city I am desperate for a quiet retreat — a small season for us to nest as a family in a remote, wooded retreat.

Bowen Island

The house we’ll be renting on Bowen is more than I could have hoped for. It has four bedrooms plus den, a huge open concept main floor, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, an upstairs bathroom complete with a jacuzzi and skylight, and an unobstructed view of the Pacific Ocean. Good friends of ours live just down the drive and kayaks beckon for a morning turn on the shore below. 

I can hardly wait to begin the next leg of our adventure…

Here are a smattering of our summer so far. 

Playing with neighbour Mia at our favourite park.

Helping daddy barbecue on the patio. Sort of. 

Vegas Trip… the three sisters unite!

Me with my lovely 20-week pregnant sister Kristen (who lives there) and my inspiring, world-traveling sister Lynn (who moves to Australia this week and is marrying her Aussie sweetheart next spring)

I gambled a whopping $1 while waiting for our show (Cirque du Soliel’s Ka) to start

Fourth of July party in a gated community with these cute kiddies. Madeleine has little boy crushes. She just loved this guy, and the puppy.

Miss Madeleine discovered Nickelodeon TV. 

Hanging with uncle PJ - the soon-to-be-papa. 

Madeleine and her dolla-dolla bill.

The Bellagio lobby. Everything you see is made of individual flower blossoms.

Auntie Lynnie and Madeleine.

Bellagio lobby. All individual stained glass bowls on the ceiling. 

Paris Hotel and Casino.

Patiently waiting, way past her bedtime, to watch the Bellagio fountain show. 

Baby got free reign on the toilet paper in our hotel room. Toddler heaven.

Ready for the pool.

Green Valley Resort.

View on Vanier Beach this week — en route to the Bard on the Beach tents for a sweet date night. Much Ado About Nothing is brilliantly cast this year!

Playing on Grandma and Grandpa’s lawn at the goodbye dinner for my brother Matt (moving to Calgary) and sister Lynn. We dined on the spectacular 62-pound halibut my dad caught in the Queen Charlotte’s last week. 

Playing with cousin Reuben. Lady loves lego.

Ambling with Uncle James and Aunt Jocelyn - who are expecting a baby next month. Groot baby city. 

Relaxing on Bowen Island with daddy. I think we found our dream house for this winter.

Godfather Matthew catching a snooze on the patio. This’ll be our view soon. 

Family day in Horseshoe Bay. That rhymed. Trolls for dinner. Mmmm…

Meeting my niece two days ago. Her name is forthcoming… Congratulations Michael and Heidi!!

Gorgeous mama and baby.

Proud papa Mike (holding his one-day-old,) watching the Holland v Spain final. 

Madeleine lamenting Holland’s loss. 

Happy Summer one and all!

how to make the words come when they sit idle, close behind ear yet far. how to line phrases when the world spins by over and over. how to sit with journal in lap quiet with dishes rising, dust claiming its residency. how to stay content with five good words on an average mama day. how to bask in first words from eight-toothed mouth: mama, dadadadada, hi. how to keep my spirit still when it begs to run anxious down apartment hall. how to rest in future plans when all seems ebb of mist. how to be anxious for nothing. how to see mouth filled, white and black keys played, mastery of slide, dinner plated, life as it should be, no more. how to sit with toddling one and know the world full.

In Gastown with Mama.

Relaxing in the grass, waiting for our friends Wendy and Claire. 

Getting her stand on at Waterfront Station.

Staring down Darian.

Doing her best Kiss impression. 

Eating random stuff off the pavement. 

Chillaxin at home.

She’s a busy lady.

Bowen Island, May 2010

Two of the great griefs of my life surround a love and church. It’s no surprise really, being that they’re two of the great investments offered us. Over five years a staggering amount of loss overtook, what I had considered, a mountainous faith. Chip by chip the magnanimity I once lived with came to a thunderous fall. I’ve been making my way back, slowly, since then. Through prayer. Writing. Counseling. Conversations. Hitting my head against the wall. Catching glimpses of light. There’s only so much you can do. 

That’s why two consecutive days, a couple of weeks ago, so much caught me by surprise and stumbled me over into a stream of forgotten grace. Questions I’ve been asking for years were answered on the spot.

It began on a Thursday. 

A friend from Ontario and his girlfriend came over to have coffee in the morning, then Madeleine and I stepped out of the house to have lunch with an old friend in Stamp’s Landing. Hugs, smiles and laughter were exchanged as he was introduced to our little girl for the first time. I sat back and basked in his recounting of the past year — new girlfriend, good job, church investment — taking note of his words:

“I’m happy. [Pause] It’s a weighty happiness. There’s a weight to it.”

As our meals arrived, (mine, a bed of spinach topped with candied salmon, and his, a prime rib burger,) he invited us to prayer. A beautiful, accomplished, to-the-nines man praying at waterfront hotspot, aloud. 

“Thank you God for friends, and for new life. Bless this meal…”

Bless. Bless. Bless.

Two broken people. A boy. A girl. A rambunctious toddler between. And hope spilling everywhere. You see, around the same time this friend and I found ourselves in a desert place in our hearts. Tired. Confused. Hurting. Deeply guilt-ridden. Longing. Here he is in a new place, with a fresh, beautiful posture of peace. Surrounded by friends, forging new faith in similar terrain — in a church not unlike the one in his old city. He didn’t give up. He hasn’t. And the spirit of God is blessing his open heart.

Bless. Bless. Bless.

There may have only been a crack but it was all He needed. You can see the joy in my friend’s eyes. Peace. Not striving. Contentment with hope. Dreams for the future. Promise. This is what a God-man looks like.

I am reminded: the church is beautiful.

I leave aflourish.

The same afternoon I spend an hour with half of an inspiring couple of artists training in Vancouver to return to Germany to establish a community arts centre in an old brick factory once used by Nazis during WWII. Light bursting out of the dark and broken. Their synergy is palpable. Their centre, obvious: Christ their hope, beginner and finisher of their faith.

Yes, I am reminded: the mission is beautiful. 

I come home and kiss my husband. Yes. We will see with the same light. 

Yes, marriage is beautiful.

Bless. Bless. Bless. 

Finally, the next day. I decide early to spend the afternoon in Sapperton, New Westminster. I go to meet my girlfriend who’s the new manager at the local java watering hole — Starbucks. We visit. Then I walk. Only to return to share a coffee with my mom. Halfway through our visit a woman with a daughter similarly aged to Madeleine walks in. My mom recognizes her/befriends her. Names and hugs were exchanged. 

This person is a tie to my past. Unbeknownst to my mom who continues the conversation for close to fifteen minutes. This is the girl I’d want to hate. The end. The one. The chapter-ender. A love torn like vellum, scattered on icy winds near Larch Street with no resolve, and ended in her arms. 

As her butter words spilled out, all jealousy, all fear, fled like a sparrow. My heart melted in an instant. 

“Yes, I’d like to meet your daughter. Yes, motherhood is the greatest experience in the world.” Yes. Yes. 

Bless. Bless. Bless.

I wanted to wrap her in my arms. Wanted to stroll away, our babies quietly bundled, and talk with her until the words ran out. I hoped the joy in my eyes made its way home in her arms. To him.

Yes, I am reminded: love is beautiful.

I am lying on wings. I am unwrapped. I am ready. 

Yes.

::::

I thank Brad Roberts for my new theme song — And It’s Beautiful — from Crash Test Dummies’ new album, OOoh, La La, released this week.

On the Bowen Island ferry last Friday