Unthinkable

 My heart is breaking for my niece and her partner and also for my sister. My nephew quietly left them yesterday, suddenly and from an unforeseen complication which was unrelated to his rare condition. A blockage in an artery dislodged and Linden went to sleep, peacefully, surrounded by the people who loved him best.

Linden fought tooth and nail, battling mountainous odds and beating them in his very short life. When things seemed to be at the darkest he rallied, accepting the positive energies and healing prayers that were being sent his way from countless people who knew him and his family and also from those who had just heard his story and kept him in their thoughts. For those of you who added to the ocean of support via my blog. Please, please, please accept my gratitude.

Losing a child is simply and horrifyingly unthinkable. We try not to dwell on the possibility that any child will leave this world before their parents. When it actually happens there are absolutely no words that can do justice to the grief that follows. The little we can do and say never

taken last week. Happy to be able to go outside after
months of being indoors. Linden was so close
to being able to go home.

feels like enough. We are awkward in our condolences.

As a mother I can only imagine (and quite vividly) what my niece is going through right now. I know that my imaginings barely scrape the surface of what she is living through. Her desire to have her baby in her arms just one more time must be overpowering. The wish that her child was still here and still in possession of all the possibilities we are gifted with when we take our first few steps in this life, must be exquisitely painful. These are things I imagine but cannot know myself. I am blessed with my two daughters. They are healthy and full of energy.

Watching my sister, my niece and her partner put all their energy into Linden's treatment allowed me to look at my girls and really be thankful for their health, their childish wisdom and even their mischievous moments. Because my niece is no longer able to hold her baby I hold mine a little tighter and for a few seconds longer. I am thankful that I have them, that their little spirits chose me to be their mother and I let them know.

Linden embodied the love from all the people who sent him their thoughts and prayers, from his grandparents and great grandparents who looked on him with devotion, from his aunts and uncles who fell in love with him the moment he was born, and from his parents who were graced with his monster sized soul. He fought to stay with them. When he was too tired to fight they/we fought for him. When it was his time to leave they held him with all their love as he went to a place with no more pain. Love is a verb as well as a noun. Linden was loved, he loved he was love.

In honour of Linden's short and powerful life please consider becoming a bone marrow donor, Linden's life would have had little hope had he not had a match.  If you live outside of Canada you can become a donor in your own country. Matches can be made from all over the world. To list a very few:

In Canada visit One Match
In the US go to Be The Match 
In the UK go to the British Bone Marrow Registry

You may be a match for someone whose life could be saved by a donation. Wouldn't that be a lovely legacy for my nephew? Please, if you do sign up and are a match for someone at anytime please let me know so I can pass that information on to my niece and her partner, knowing that Linden's circumstances helped someone else might be a tiny balm to the pain they are feeling right now and in the future.

I'm conflicted

On the one hand; I'm just not too pleased about these Olympics that we are hosting. One of the positives to come out of the games was increased housing for low income, and the homeless. This seems to have gone out the window with the high cost of the games (what with going over budget in almost everything...)

The advertisements telling me that the best way to show my support is to chew the gum that has a maple leaf emblazoned on the outer shell. The ones that tell me that the only way to support our athletes is through the purchase of the sponsor's products is a little sickening. And all the billboards and transit ads asking me "Do You Believe?" make me want to just yell out "NO!" out of a sense of rebellion. Don't even get me started on the Environmental factor. How green can these games be when they are transporting truck load after truck load after helicopters loaded with snow to one of the event sites?

On the other hand, how cool is it that there will be so many people from so many places around the world, here? We have a friend who is working for the games; for as long as we have known her, she's been working long hours and grueling days getting ready for the next few weeks. Knowing how much she's put into the games makes it hard to be completely against them.

Then, there's the really awesome art that's displayed around town. I have a friend (well I know a guy I graduated with, and I keep in contact through Facebook) who has some of his work displayed around the city. The library has some really cool installations that we enjoyed looking at and being a part of, and we're looking forward to taking part in some of the other cultural events, and seeing the flame make it's way through our neighborhood. It's kind of exciting.

And the Peanut is seeing all the activity, and the Mascots and talking about the games. As far as she's concerned though, the Olympics are the cartoon that the Mascot's are featured in to promote the games.

So, how do I explain what the games are and how they great and how they are negatively affecting the place that we live in to her? It's hard not to get excited when we see her eyes light up at the sight of Sumi and Miga (she's not to sure about Quatchi). What we want is for her to retain her innocence and at the same time we want her to look at the world and see that there social issues that need to be resolved. We want her to have some empathy for her world and the people in it. We want her to question and to want to make a difference. That's a lot to want for a three year old.

So with all the cook books yesterday

I completely left out how the weekend went.
Saturday we went to watch the husband's band practice, they'll be playing a fund raising gig at the end of this month and other than watching them play at the guitarist's wedding last August I haven't seen them play together as a group yet. Can I just say that they sound awesome? I can? OK, they sound awesome. The Peanut spent a good portion of the night dancing around with her hot pink ear protectors and new white sneakers, helped out on a few songs by playing the tambourine and generally made everyone in the room laugh.

Sunday was the day that I lost all happy warm feelings towards the neighborhood Shoppers Drug Mart. Last fall, when I was so sick we were in there almost every other day trying to get something to help with the sinus cough thing I had going on, they were fabulous when the Peanut announced that she really had to go potty and let us use their staff washroom, which I was grateful for and because I was so grateful I felt way more loyal to them than say the folks at the Safeway or the Dollar Store. So when the Peanut announced she really really had to go potty while we were picking up some necessities I quickly took her to the nearest employee and asked if we could use their bathroom. I was turned down and told that I'd have to take the Peanut over to the Starbucks.

Her little bladder nearly made it but I was peed on in the Starbucks bathroom and had to jury rig my cardigan as temporary pant legs and skirt on the Peanut. My faith in their customer service is shattered, and I'm pretty sure that if looks could kill I might have been charged with something serious. I can understand not wanting to let everyone into the backroom to use the bathroom but a three year old should be given an exception. Or maybe I'm over reacting?

It's like deja vu but not really

As time goes on and my Peanut Butter Pie gets bigger and smarter and more loquacious, as she starts asking questions and wanting to learn about the world she lives in; I have these moments. Moments where I begin explaining something to her and the words of my parents dance from my lips.

Whether explaining that "Bees will not hurt you if you leave them alone." or telling her as we look at the neighbors white and pink apple blossoms that "those flowers are where apples come from" Each time I tell her something I hear the same words spoken to me in similar situations. I clearly remember my Dad telling me the same thing about apple blossoms in the back yard of our house in Calgary when I was about 9 or 10 years old.

My Mom is still around but my Dad passed on when I was 15; watching my daughter and my nephews grow up can be very bittersweet at times. Not being able to share these moments with him falls into the bittersweet category very neatly.

I truly believe that he knows and loves is grandchildren and that before they came to us, he was with them. Not being able to share our day to day lives is heartbreaking. I just know that my sister's boys would be the light in his eyes and that my daughter would have had him wrapped around her baby toe.