Ghouls and Goblins

Yep, you guessed it. This blog is going to be about...ghosts. It's not a spooky *oooh* ghost kind of blog, even though Hallowe'en is coming up in a month or so. (Speaking of which, Sprout is being a DRAGON - can't wait to post photos!!)

I'll have to go back a little ways and start at the beginning. My first funeral that I ever attended was that of my Great-Grandmother (on my Mom's side). She was an amazing woman, and incredible writer. I give her full credit for sparking my love for poetry. We used to go and visit her - she lived in an assisted care facility in Camrose - and she would give me advice about writing and let me rifle through her written work. When she passed away, I was asked if I would write a poem and read it at her service. At the ripe old age of 13, I thought it would be a wonderful way to pay tribute to her. I remember not wavering at all in my voice, but being frozen to the floor staring down at the small-ish wooden box that she was inside at the front of the church. I didn't look up the entire time that I read. At the internment, there was a moment of quiet awe as the sun came out from behind a cloud, and a flock of small birds burst forth from a tree close by the gravesite. Was it her? Was it God? Who knows? But it was really incredible.

After that day, I began to have dreams about her, and not just a foggy dream. Vivid ones, where I could feel touch, smell things, taste food, etc. She would ask me questions about our family, and continue to give me advice on my writing. I have a very large imagination, and at the time I just thought it was my subconscious way of expressing that I missed having her around to visit and talk to. Lately though, I have begun to think otherwise.

In January of 2009, my Grandfather (also on my Mom's side) passed away after a very brief battle with lung cancer. It was extremely hard on our entire family. He always seemed like this big, strong rock that held everyone together, and to see him crumble and wither over such a short period of time was something I will never forget. As Sprout was born in November, she got to spend a very short two-month span going back and forth to visit her Great-Grandpa at the palliative care facility where he was admitted. It was amazing to see how much she brightened his days. Each time we would visit, even if she was crabby as a crab, when I laid her beside him to snuggle in his bed, she would quiet down and snuggle into him and go to sleep. It was amazing to watch. He loved her, and she loved him. Like I said before, his passing was very difficult for all of us. I grew up living in my Grandma & Grandpa's house until I was 10 years old, and my sister and I have always been close to both of them. Again, I was asked to write and read something at his service, and I did, but this time, I didn't hold myself together as well.

Nothing crazy happened at the service, and there was no internment, as he was cremated, but I have had numerous dreams about him since he passed. The latest was so vivid and real that I was actually woken up by the fact that I was sobbing in my sleep. Here's how it went: my whole extended family was together, and we were at my Grandma's old house (the one I grew up in), and my Grandpa was there. He came and sat down next to me and was talking to me about Sprout. He told me how beautiful she was, and how much she had grown and changed, and that he was so proud of me as a mother. That was enough to set me off crying, but then he started talking about my cousin, who is due with her first child this year. Up until this point, I think we all said we thought she was having a girl, but his exact words to me were "You know, she's having a boy." And he also informed me that when he was born, I was to make sure that the little guy had a jacket just like the one he was wearing. He had on a denim jacket with a brown corduroy collar on it, and I'm sure it was an actual jacket he owned (confirmed by my Grandma). I hugged him, and I swear I could feel his arms around me, and smell the faint hints of sawdust and vanilla pipe tobacco that were nostalgically familiar. It was at that point that I started to cry in the dream, and woke up absolutely sobbing. My poor husband - at 6:00 in the morning, I don't think he was awake enough to even know what to do! It will be interesting to see if she does, indeed, have a boy. If she does, I'd better start hunting for a jacket like that, or create one somehow.

So the question remains: do I believe in ghosts? Do you? Whatever your beliefs or thoughts, it is comforting to think that those that we miss so fiercely in death find their way back into our lives somehow and continue to watch over us and the ones we love throughout our days. Sprout will undoubtedly not remember her cuddles with her Great-Grandpa, but we have photos and can tell her all about it and what he was like; that it is really too bad that she didn't get to spend more time with him. Maybe he will find his way into her dreams someday. For now, I will just keep my memories alive, and hope that wherever he is, he knows he is still loved.

Let me know if anyone ever visits your dreams, Sprout. Even if it's our brains creating a subconscious fantasy, it still feels pretty incredible.

xoxoxo

Mommy

Frankie? Really?

Oh, the letter 'F'. It could stand for so many things. It reminds me of that commercial they had on a few years back about the Knorr frozen dinners, where they bleeped out the word "frozen" and made it sound like...well...something else. Hilarious. Had me in stitches every single time. The title of this blog refers to the comment my loving husband made when we were talking about girl names back in my giant prego days. I have always LOVED the name Frankie for a girl, but we both decided against it. There weren't any longer names that would shorten to Frankie that either of us really liked. Francesca, Francis, Francine. Nope. None of them seemed right, so we just left Frankie by the wayside. 'F' could stand for fun, facetiousness, fancy, farting (not me, the dog...changed her food lately and she has such bad gas that she lets 'er rip constantly...and audibly..*gag*), flirting, etc. I could go on and on. Today, though, the letter 'F' is for something a little more...friendly...

'F' is for Family

Where would I be without my family? Probably stuck under a rock somewhere with my arms and legs flailing. But seriously now, family is one of the most important things to me, and it is incredible how much more important your own little family unit becomes when you bring a child into the mix. Before Sprout, it was difficult to think of my husband and I as our own family. Family was supposed to be about having everyone together, eating good food (mmm...apple salad...secret family recipe to follow), having good conversation, and watching the kids all run and play (or being a kid and going to play). Now that I have grown up - a little - and started my own family, things sure have changed. Not that my extended family members aren't important, it's just...my husband and Sprout are MY family - the one that will grow outwards from us, now. Strange to think of.

I remember being a little girl and playing with my cousins, never once wondering what life would bring us, or whether we would remain close as adults. Time shifts everything, even family. As we age, we become closer with some and more distant with others. Those large family get-togethers become fewer and farther between, and when they do happen, not everyone is there. We get married (or not), have kids (or not), and eventually become our own family units. Going for Christmas dinner at Grandma's house becomes going for Christmas dinner at my mom's house...who is Sprout's Grandma...weird. The shift is eventual and gradual, and will definitely take some time to get used to, but it is a welcome change. The memories and family bond that I created as a child will become Sprout's with our 'new' family and the changing way our holidays/birthdays/etc. are celebrated.

It makes me feel sadly nostalgic to think about those Christmas Eves spent playing with all of my cousins at my Grandma's house. The smell of turkey, ham, gravy, and sweet potatoes permeating the air. Grandpa whistling carols at the dining room table. Presents piled halfway across the living room because they just didn't fit underneath the tree - well, that one is usually still true on Christmas Day at my mom's house. We have a tendency (as a family) to go overboard. An actual fire roaring in the fireplace. Snowball fights in the back yard. As much as I miss all of it myself, I am so excited to watch Sprout grow and create lasting memories for herself with our 'new' family. She'll have a much smaller one, less cousins, and possibly more chaos with the traveling we have to do to Southern Alberta to visit the in-laws, but it will be what she knows. I think it's always going to be hard, knowing that I had SO many cousins to play with growing up, and that there were waaaaaay too many aunts and uncles crammed into my Grandma's house. Sprout isn't going to have quite the same experience, but I seem to forget that those are MY memories, not hers, and she will grow up (hopefully) to feel the same nostalgic feelings about her own childhood when she has children of her own.

I've never understood those that don't make their family a priority. Family is what you make of it. To be able to look back on your life and say that you were surrounded by loving family & friends is enough of an accomplishment for a single lifetime, don't you think? We all overwork ourselves, strive for more money, less problems, more 'things'. I understand that working is a part of everyday life, without which you can't even support a family, but do we really need all that we 'work for'? Will those 'things' really be worth the time and effort put into them by the end of your life? Think about it sometime. I challenge you to take some time this next month and devote it to your family - extended or otherwise. If you don't have family, devote it to your closest friends. Find out what they are in need of, lend a helping hand, be supportive. Be thankful f0r what you have. I know I am. Even when she's whining, miserable, teething, or otherwise, my little Sprout is still a miracle to me. She is my gift from God that I will never do enough in this lifetime to deserve. She is my family. You will always be my priority, my Sprout. Family always is.

xoxoxo

Mommy

Apple Salad

5-6 Medium-sized apples (Macintosh work well, or Golden Delicious)

2 cups Whipping cream

1 tsp Vanilla (not the fake stuff)

1 tsp Cinnamon

2 Tbsp Confectioner's sugar

Prepare the whipping cream: whip with a stand or hand mixer on medium speed until soft peaks form. Add the vanilla, cinnamon, and confectioner's sugar. Continue to whip on medium until desired consistency. Core, peel, and dice apples into small chunks. Fold whipping cream into apples. Top with a sprinkle of cinnamon & confectioners sugar. Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve (at least 1 hour).

Elephant Ears...mmm...

I've been having a really difficult time rifling through my brain-files for an "E" topic to write about. For the past couple of weeks, I have been unendingly busy with work - both my massage therapy job and my home-based Little Sprout Designs. I don't want to complain, because I am so grateful that I have so many supportive clients and customers for both ventures, but I am flat-out exhausted. Hey! There's one!

E is for Exhaustion

Boy, do I know about exhaustion. I strive to live my life every day as though it will be my last. Sometimes, I am really not very good at that - I have a tendency to let the small things bother me, and let myself get worked up about stuff that doesn't really matter, in the grand scheme of life. Lately, I have been so stressed out about absolutely everything that I allowed myself to get run down, and have ended up with a wicked cough & cold. That, in itself, makes everything more difficult. Imagine going for a massage appointment - supposed to be relaxing, right? - and having a therapist who is coughing and sniffling through your entire treatment. I can't afford to take time off of work, but #1: I feel horrible, and #2: Who wants to be massaged by someone hacking and sneezing and sniffling the whole time?

Whine, whine, whine. I know, right? Maybe I should call this the Whiny Mom Blog. Either way, I have been having a rough time lately, but on the up side of things - business has been very fruitful. I am really looking forward to the BIG craft show in November (see: www.weestock.ca for more info) now, and starting to stockpile all of my items! Seeing as how this might be one of the last semi-nice sunny days, I think I will take my little Sprout outside for some product photo-ops! Nothing could be cuter than a little girl in a pretty pink tutu on the still partially-green grass in the sunshine!! Ah, but I digress.

We will be going away this weekend to visit the in-laws down in Southern Alberta, which makes for a bit of a break from all the hustle and bustle. Sure, it's work to get everything packed up for a 9.5 month old, us, and a dog, but once we get there, it's quiet and relaxing. If I won the lottery, I would build a big house somewhere in the Coulees and wake up every day to the giant Alberta sky and the mountains. I'll be confiscating my mother-in-law's digital SLR to take some photos this weekend - stay tuned for the next blog..."F" could be for a number of things (ha ha), but it will probably have something to do with "Farm". Off to the cows we go, Sprout. Pack up your gumboots and leave your frilly tutus at home.

xoxoxo

Mommy