Endings and Beginnings

During my life I have moved often, flipping and flopping from home to home without much thought or regard.  In my childhood it was due to my parent's divorce and my rebellious nature, and later into adulthood, due to my own marriage collapses.  I did not build a firm home base until moving back to my Northern Ontario hometown in late 2006.  By summer 2007, my husband and I bought "the house." It was my dream home of old creaky floors, airy front porch and in the neighbourhood of my youth.

"Home"

It was not perfect, the main floor toilet froze in winter, mice occasionally found their way indoors in the spring and it did not have the "essential" master ensuite bath.  It was solid, it was honest and it was welcoming.  Our street had front yards and sidewalks and stoops to sit and meet.  Kids were watched as they toddled recklessly upon their first flight of freedom from the clutches of their parents.  Hockey games were played seriously with tennis balls and torn nets.  Dogs greeted people passing by for a head scratch.  The street was its own community, we created it and made it a great place to live.

Our home was continuously full of an extra one or two or ten at the dinner table (much to the dismay of the resident teenager).  Children were nurtured and fed (bellies and souls), and whether they were mine or not did not matter.  Family was not defined by blood lines or legal agreements, if you crossed the threshold, you were family.  Friendships were made by both young and old and many have been maintained defying distance and geography.

It was a house of ideas and strategies and community plans.  A career flourished from the third floor office cubby.   Political strategies discussed around the dinner table and issues raised and challenged. Much wine was poured and meals shared. 

 

This physical structure of bricks and mortar is no longer ours.  The neighbours and children whom we all watched and loved have also left our street of open porches and open hearts.  One of those neighbours and  I were chatting last night about my feelings of loss and nostalgia (who I consider a "sister"),she was helping me to understand and accept my good bye permanently to this chapter of my family's life in this Northern town.  She guided me to poet and philosopher Mark Nepo, and one of his quotes forced me to reflect this change, "life is where you are." So while my geography and walls have changed, who I am has not.

Find your "homestead," be there for your neighbour and be kind.   I will contemplate these things as we search for our next "home." xo vagi 

 

Ma!

I picked up my phone this morning and all the text said was, "Ma!" I knew it was an excited, proud and an opening to ask how well things were going.  I am "Ma" to many it seems, this person has been my confident, my editor, my wine drinking companion and my ally.  He is not my "son" by birth or any other formal arrangement - he is just part of my life, as I am part of his.

The "Ma!" was due to the fact that a presentation he gave that morning went really well.  I know his day to day activities even though he is in Toronto, Ontario and I am in my little hamlet of Louisville, Colorado.  This spiritual son of mine (I have 3 others "born" to me) is a Two-Spirited Advocate.  Teddy is Indigenous Canadian, identifies as a gay male and looks great in a dress and heels.  His retelling of the morning was full of amazing pride due to the positive impact on a group.  He further stated that he, quite possibly maybe even "saved a few lives." My morning activities were not as dynamic:  cleaning up dog poop, doing laundry and tackling some enormous weeds - no social change work here in my yoga pants.

My Teddy

 

His timed text to me was intuitive as I have been struggling with my semi-retired state as full time hausfrau.  I do write grants on a casual part time basis, but left a robust career in the Not-for-Profit sector that was, quite honestly, burning me out.  I continue to return to that debate of value proposition.  Why do I not value what I do?  I am a full time mom.  Why do I struggle with that description?  My partner is sincere in his support that he could not pursue his career full speed ahead without me managing kids, home, and all the rest.  I think North American society has judged the roll of caregiver as something less than worthy.  Is my (and everyone's) contribution to society measured based on job title and salary?

 

The "Ma!" came at a time when I needed some confirmation of my worth.  We should not solely identify ourselves by how we earn a paycheque, but rather how we support each other.  I am a very proud "Ma" today and will continue this internal debate, and hope that I realize that I am valuable due to my love and kindness that I am able to give freely to others (especially all my "kids"). 

 

To all the caregivers out there (moms, grandmothers, sisters, aunties, mentors) a very happy Mother's Day, be kind to yourself and each other.  Love vagi, xo