Category — Life

Sitting down to write, here at the dinner table, the Pacific laid out before me, sipping tea while baby sleeps and indulging in a slice of carrot cake from Whole Foods reminds me of the way I felt during my first days working on the second floor at the CBC. Awe. Am I really here? Somebody pinch me.

Our dream really has come true.

The days so far have been filled with mother meet-ups and visiting with the Cowper family. We’ve sipped tea outside Daniel’s handmade house and entertained around our dining table.

Matthew comes by for a swing on a porch every day or two. We borrow their hammock.

I wandered into the Bowen Island Family Place last Tuesday and was enveloped in this intimate island community. This is one of my greatest joys as a mother: the instant community that forms around children. Two days at Family Place, a dozen introductions later, and a lovely mom named Victoria invited me to her mom’s group. I got thoroughly lost on my way there. Luckily Madeleine napped as I crisscrossed the island, finally making my way to Caroline and her daughter Katie’s beautiful home. Caroline, a former campaign finance lawyer from Washington, DC, bare-faced and effortlessly beautiful, welcomed me at the door. Her husband John, who owns an amazing travel company, came in to say Hi.

Bit by bit I am piecing together people’s stories. I’m hungry to know why people live here, where they’ve come from, how they make it work, what other roles these devoted mothers fill. One, a recent transplant from New York, left a career as a social worker and is writing copy so she can stay home with her little one. Another a forestry worker, another a teacher. Some from Toronto, Vancouver, many new to Bowen, just like me.

I plan to get back into the writing saddle while we’re here and have connected with three potential part-time nannies for Madeleine. One a student hopeful for a career in childhood education, one a composer/musician recently moved from Brooklyn, and one a mom with a daughter two months older than Madeleine. We’re taking the week to decide. I can’t wait to have two solid days to sit with my books, pen and MacBook and create.

It feels right in every single way that we’re here. Everything is flowing. A friend of mine, a deeply spiritual person, gave me this advice many years ago: Follow the way of peace. Now, not every part of of our life at present is peaceful (we’re unpacking boxes while the three of us nurse colds and we’re cranky, oh, and I killed the largest spider I have ever seen this morning) but at every turn peace is meeting us.

It’s like I can hear God saying “Yes.”

three years since our hands folded into one. it isn’t easy, i won’t lie. but every day is worth it, unfolding our broken, broken pieces and saying yes to them, over and over. i am yours.

today michael and i celebrate our third anniversary. we are spending tonight at raw canvas, sipping, sampling and painting. i can’t wait to see what we create. together.

::::

only hope

[a poem for the one i love]

I want only to struggle in your arms
you in mine
pummel chest with marble fingers
erase
scars fortnight left
fortnight forth come
I want to writhe in your arms
only
because
I mistook apology
for

I want to take nail stabs in my palms
smear the bathroom vanity
across the cool of toilet bowl
into waiting tub, where her rubber ducky reigns

I want to dance on 5×12 patio
above whistling suburban thoroughfare
the view is fine
reduce the space between chest freezer, rusted-out barbecue, now gone
solidarity declared beneath the dead hanging basket

we’ll need it on the islands

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.

A dream fulfilled.

Here’s what we’re in for…

Visit, Anyone?

Now we need our house to sell… please lift up a prayer.

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…

So, yesterday I lopped it all off. 

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.