Graphic Artist, Writer and Girl Geek
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Posts Tagged with ‘faith’

Equidistant

May 3, 2013
MomMeSept1982web

Today marks the day when I have traveled two equal distances, one with my mother, one without.

I feel the weight of this moment, as I contemplate what the next 15.91 years will hold. I can look back on my past, at both journeys and appreciate the joy and the struggle. The triumph and the disaster. I used to see myself as one or the other — ‘The-Girl-With-A-Single-Mother’ and ‘The-Motherless-Daughter’, but I finally feel as if I am defined by something else entirely. That those two parts belong to me, but not I to them.

There is a third path, one that perhaps I wasn’t ready to contemplate until now. The possibility of finally being me, a whole person, not the girl who lost so much.

I am so ready.

 

If by Rudyard Kipling

October 15, 2012
IfKipling

I came across this poem a few years ago and fell in love with it. It wasn’t until recently when my hubby wanted to give a meaningful gift to his mentor, did I reread it. Since then, I’ve found myself frequently searching for it on the internet just so I can reread it at all hours of the day. There is something so inspiring and yet humbling about the words. I don’t possess very many of the traits Kipling says you should possess, which is why I’m so drawn to it I suppose, but a girl can try.

In order to remind myself of the words, meaning and symbolism of this poem, I decided to make something I can look at all the time.

Hope you enjoy this poem as much as I do!

Birthdays

June 21, 2012
happybirthday

Birthdays are a funny thing. When you’re young it’s simply a carefree celebration, I don’t think it matters much that it’s your birthday or someone else’s (except when you factor in presents). Games, festivities, decorations, cake, presents…it’s just all good stuff. You know the type of good stuff I’m talking about — when everyone is happy, laughing and having a good time.

My mom was great at throwing exactly that type of party. And looking back on my childhood I’m constantly amazed at the things she did for me. Being a single mother, steeped in East-Indian cultures and biases, she did not act the part. I remember birthdays at Fantasy Gardens, the beach, at home… Now those were the best because she would make all my favorite foods, decorate and arrange for my friends and I to play games likes hot potato and musical chairs. And of course my birthday cake was from this wonderful little bakery that used to be on Fraser Street in Vancouver. They made the best cakes and the best chocolate chip cookies – probably cause I only got something from there if it was a really really special occassion.

But as you get older birthdays lose there importance. You tell people ‘don’t bother’, ‘I  don’t need anything’, or ‘ ah, we’ll celebrate next week.’. Which is all fine, I suppose, but don’t you want to celebrate your life? The trials and triumphs should all be acknowledged, every year.

In either case, birthdays are memorable and I have a few that are significant to me.

My sixteenth birthday was my first without my mother. I didn’t want to celebrate, but my friends were admant that getting out of the house would be good for me. Without my knowledge they booked a limosine and took me to a restaurant I had been yammering about for years. It was called Cloud 9 and it revolved (see the link!). But this place was fine dining and we were sixteen. I’m a vegetarian. They wanted me to eat things like snails. Ew. We booked it out of there and ended up at Red Robins. Much more my style – free birthday sundae, hello!?

Then there was my 18th birthday, the first year it rained. What a tragedy. This was the moment I recognized global warming was effecting us before everyone knew about it! Bitches!

Now this is where it gets heavy, but bear with me. For my 29th birthday, the land that I owned (a 50 acre blueberry farm) was sold in foreclosure proceedings. And the company that owned it, the one I had funneled almost my entire inheritance into (more details about this here) was officially caput. The money was all gone and there was still the threat of losing our home since there was a shortfall and it didn’t seem like my aunt & uncle were gonna own up to their share of the responsibility. But that’s not the worst part, when I was feeling so low, I received a phone call from my aunt at about 530pm to ask me what happened in court at the foreclosure. Then before hanging up she said, ‘by the way, happy birthday’. 30 minutes later my cousin called to wish me a happy birthday. That was it. My immediate family, the people I called mom, dad, brother, sister…had the entire day to say something, somewhere…online, in an email…something? Suffice to say it was an ultra low point, but a catalyst to see past the ties I had bound myself to them with.

And then I turned 30. I was still missing my adoptive family at this point but I was starting to see that the money meant more to them than I did. Then my friends showed me that family isn’t always blood. They threw me a surprise party that I had absolutely no idea about. I pretty much cried the entire time, I was so overcome with emotion. That people, just my friends (not blood as my adoptive family often told me, ‘only your blood will be there for you’) took the time to plan a party in my honor. I was flabbergasted. And humbled and awed by the love and generosity of my wonderful friends. It allowed me for the first time in a long time to wonder what I wanted. What made me happy. And why I had such a hard time giving myself that simple gift. It was a day I will remember for a very long time – it was the first step, since losing my mom, to becoming my own person.

Here’s what I wrote the night I came back from the party,

I’m not sure quite when it happened.  Maybe after I wrote out my writing goals in my Golden Heart post, or perhaps it was before that point.  I think I started thinking about getting old after my friend turned 30th.  She’s exactly six months older than me, so I had a headstart on making sure that when I turned 30 I could be proud of what I had accomplished. And I can honestly tell you that when I thought back on my life, it was with a less than favorable eye.  No one single thing has been simple for me and not even close to resembling the plans I had for myself.  Actually, my life has been the opposite of what I thought I wanted.  Which just proves that God really does know best.  Not that I always saw it that way, but I see it now. The thought of turning 30 this year has done something to me.  It’s like I took a fat, get-stuck-in-your-throat-Believe-In-Yourself pill and chased it down with a giant shot of courage.

I don’t believe the shit my adoptive family fed me. I don’t believe that what they did was right, or just, or fair. They are greedy and there is no other way to cut it. I wish there was because I don’t want what I know in my head to be true. I stood up to my aunt for the first time in years. On my mother’s death anniversary no less. She had many choice words and low blows, things like – I’m a terrible mother, that she hopes her kids don’t grow up to be weak like me and that she wishes I never had my inheritance because then I would have learned to stand on my own two feet.

These comments are ripe with hypocrisy and such incredulity that I find my only reaction can be laughter. And I can only laugh because it doesn’t matter anymore what they want or think of me. I never had their unconditional love when I obeyed all there commands, I don’t have much to lose now. The truth is, I am no longer affected by the illness of their greed for money and control. They might have taken all my money, but not my spirit. Somewhere deep down inside lay buried the woman I was becoming as a young teenager. I am going to find her. And when I do, those who have crossed me better watch. the. fuck. out.

A frighteningly fiery and passionate retrospection for my 30th birthday night, no? Well I’ve come a long way from that anger. Much of it I’ve let go, it served it’s purpose to help create a chasm between me and them. Back then I might have been swayed back to believing they did no wrong so it must be my fault. Today, I feel clear headed and calm. Peaceful with the choices I made (don’t regret anything because at one point it was exactly what you wanted) and the obstacles I had to clear to feel this way.

I feel true to myself, joyful about the future, and strong in my convictions. I’m not sure if people start to feel this way in their twenties or if I’m not so far behind everyone else. I think this post could come off as narcissistic, and perhaps it is, but I don’t want to waste another birthday or year believing that who I am, my hopes and dreams, my choices and beliefs, should be shelved for anyone or for any reason. I think that you should take the moments you can to celebrate yourself — good, bad, ugly, indifferent. It makes you you and that is a great thing.

Happy birthday to my friends that share this as their birthday or who have recently celebrated one. Hope it was a good one.

 

Why I Want A Cure For Cancer

April 5, 2012
nightmommydied

As many of you already know, I was 15 when my mother died.

She had breast cancer. By the time she got help, it was already too late. But she fought her disease and emminent death as hard as she could. She even outlasted the doctor’s predictions of being dead within the month by a few years. Eventually the chemo, radiation and myraid of experimental medications weren’t enough.

Near the end, when she couldn’t walk, talk or feed herself I saw something on a talk show that gave me a glimmer of hope. It was a psychic of all things, that made the prediction that there would be a cure for cancer very soon. I remember thinking that the timing couldn’t be better. My mother needed this cure. And fast. So I prayed. And prayed. And prayed. When there almost wasn’t any time left, a family friend of ours told us about someone who had a cure for cancer. I don’t know if it cost anything, I’m not even sure who this person was, but family members drove the hour or so to get to this person and brought back a bucket of the nastiest looking stuff. It was black, like tar. And kind of chunky. I didn’t care and I hoped my mother wouldn’t either. I thought this was it! The miracle we had been hoping for. My mother was gonna be well again! So I diligently did as instructed and fed her this horrible black soup.

I pulled up a kitchen chair in front of her wheelchair, just as you might do when feeding your fussy toddler, legs splayed wide to get up nice and close. Because the cancer had spread to her brain, she had lost the ability to speak and perhaps even fully understand what I was up to. I explained the best I could and started shoveling this stuff in her mouth, wiping at her face to catch anything that she dribbled. I remember putting each spoonful in her mouth and wincing inside as she would grimace and struggle to get it down. But she did it and she dutifully swallowed every bite. I will never, however, forget the look in her eyes. Desperation, fear…love. I told her, with a little desperation of mine own, that she needed to finish everything in that bowl, that it would make her better. And she did.

Unfortunately it wasn’t enough.

She died a few weeks later on May 3.

I remember thinking that perhaps the cure we had wasn’t the “cure”, but that eventually as per the psychics prediction, the cure would be revealed and shared with all those that were ill with this horrible illness.

It’s been 15 years and I am still waiting. It’s been too long and too many lives have been lost.

That is why I’m running in the CIBC Run For The Cure race this September. If you are able, no donation is too small, please make a donation on my behalf to the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation  or for more information visit my Run For The Cure personal page.

How I Lost 5 Million Dollars

April 5, 2012
  1. I bought 5 of my closest friends million dollar homes.
  2. I bought 2 Bugatti Veyron Super Sports.
  3. I bought myself a five million dollar mega-mansion. In Hawaii.
  4. I travelled around the world, in style. 50 times.
  5. I donated five million dollars to my favorite charities and organizations.
  6. I paid off my mortgage and set aside money for my daughters’ education and future. I also bought some investment property to provide income and equity. Then hubby and I finally went on our honeymoon. After that I spent it on a family trip to Disneyland. The rest of the money I put in our bank account while I figured out what to invest in.

Out of those six choices, what would you do?

What did I do?

None of them.

I actually let my aunt and uncle decide what would happen with my inheritance so that they would love me and I could continue to be part of their family. Unfortunately they decided to dump the majority of it into a risky agriculture investment so that I wouldn’t have access to the cash.

Eventually the investment failed and the property was sold in foreclosure proceedings. There was a shortfall. And because my aunt and uncle didn’t want to own up to their responsibility – they felt they should only pay half, we finally bumped them up to paying two-thirds — hubby and I had to remortgage our house.

When I think about all of the things that I could have done with the money, #6 hurts me the most. I never had big plans, you see. Growing up , my mom and I didn’t have much. We didn’t own a home, she barely owned a junker of a vehicle and my aspirations for my future had nothing to do with spending big. I wanted to go to Disneyland (cause I’d never been), I wanted to go to Hawaii (because my Mom loved it there) and I wanted my own house (because I’d never had one).

Of course those things can still happen and that is what I will focus on, but people like my aunt and uncle, who start out with good intentions perhaps, but end up exchanging their morals for money — they need to be held accountable.

They need to know, that it was never about money. It has nothing to do with whether I shared it with them or not. It was never about me wanting it all or being greedy — as they often said.  What this is really about is their responsibility in our relationship. A relationship of child and parent that should be one of trust, honesty and mutual love.

I was a child when my mother died.

I was a child and they became my guardians. Maybe not out of love, but out of a sense of duty and perhaps also a little bit of greed.

When they sold my grandma’s house, the house my mom and I lived in, what was the rush? My mother had only been dead for a month when the for sale sign went up.  It was sold a few months later and that was the reason I couldn’t pack up my room until moving day. I had barely wrapped my head around not having a mother and now I was moving?

When you use the money from the sale of that house to pay off your mortgage, that’s not okay.

Never sitting down with me to say what they felt was owed to them (because of a legal battle to get my inheritance – a story for another time) is not okay.

Telling my husband and I that we shouldn’t buy a house just so they could keep us close and under their control is not okay.

By not telling me I should plan and save for my future, my kids future, is not being good parents. It’s not even being good human beings!

Putting the majority of the money into a farm they knew nothing of owning and operating and not telling me to make sure I have enough set aside to buy a house for my little family, IS. NOT. OKAY.

And when the going got tough and I had no more money for them to take, being conveniently “too busy” to call or spend time with my children, IS. NOT. OKAY.

When the going got really tough, and it was time to step up to their responsibility, telling me you don’t have money and building a brand new house that spared no expense IS. NOT. OKAY.

Finally, for convincing your children who had nothing to do with what happened that I was greedy and absolutely wrong — that…now that, was low. Even for you.

It is because of a couple of my dear friends that I’m writing this. I want them to know that when you experience betrayal by the people you love, and over something so superficial and meaningless as money, it does hurt, but you will get through this.  You need to know that you don’t get over something like this overnight. It takes time. At times, it’s a very hard pill to swallow.

Many nights I wallowed in self-pity and regret — especially when we almost lost our home. But we got through it and so will you. Money doesn’t buy you happiness and I’m proof of this because I’ve never been happier.  I know for a fact that there is a silver lining to every cloud. You must find yours.

To all the people out there like my friends and I — who believe that money is not more important than people — keep believing that and follow your heart. At the same time, learn from me — being responsible with your money is not the same as being greedy about your money. I was confused about the two for a long time. If someone tries to convince you otherwise, take another closer look at that person. Chances are they have something to gain from you believing that load of shit.

Have you ever experienced a similar betrayal? What did you do? Was there a lesson to be learned? Share your thoughts/comments if you’re so inclined!

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