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Hello, Inspiration – Father’s Day

June 19, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

I haven’t posted in a couple of days. Confession: I feel like I’m slipping. A rough few days and I feel like the swirl is coming back, so I’m just trying to hold it off.

I’m going to save my planned inspiration post until I can feel it again and express it properly. In the meantime, some thoughts on Father’s Day.

I know some people don’t have dads – my parents have both lost theirs. I know some dads aren’t perfect. I know some moms out there are doing it on their own for one reason or another.

It sounds silly, but this blogospheric community has made me really realize how hard Father’s Day can be for some people.

I’m blessed in the dad department – both with my own dad and the wonderful dad my husband is.

This might seem like a downer, but I’m actually inspired by those of you who don’t or can’t rejoice in Father’s Day. You’ve shared stories of bad relationships with your fathers. You’ve commented that you don’t have a relationship with your father at all.

Some of you have lost your fathers. Some fathers have lost their children.

Some of you have amazing and wonderful dads but just don’t get to see them as often as you’d like.

Whatever your situation, your strength and honesty inspire me.

I feel lucky to know others who do whatever you need to do on Father’s Day – celebrate it, ignore it, rail against it, or take the time to remember your dad and hold him in your heart.

So to all of you who have lived with the hard stuff, and to all the fathers and father figures out there who spread love and joy and caring, I wish you a Happy Father’s Day, whatever that looks like to you.

Filed Under: Hello, Inspiration · Tagged With: admissions, family, gratitude, love, perspective

Hanging Up His Skates

June 15, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

Practices. Hockey camps. Games in chilly arenas. Concession stands. The whiff of a sweaty dressing room. The dampness of gear set out to dry.

I grew up in a hockey family.

My brother played, my dad coached, and the rest of us went to countless games.

When I was 10 we boarded a hockey player who played for the local WHL team and I spent a lot of time running up and down bleachers and buying orange pop at hockey rinks.

But hockey to me is mostly about my dad.

He has played for longer than I can remember – longer than I’ve been alive. It’s something I always remember him doing, and so much a part of who he is.

Growing up, I looked forward to his annual trip to a hockey tournament because he always brought t-shirts back for us. They were huge, and we wore them as nightgowns for years, not caring that they bore logos of teams and sponsors we knew nothing about.

When he got injured I was old enough to know it was worrisome even if I didn’t really understand what had happened.

As an adult, I understand more just how much hockey is in him.

I’ve heard his broken nose anecdote countless times. I’ve listened to stories of teams and players long retired who defined the game before it became about money. I’ve smiled at his reflections of playing before helmets were the norm.

Combine Ron MacLean with Don Cherry and you’d get my dad – knowledgeable and well-spoken about hockey, but passionate and not afraid to say what he thinks. The game is such a part of him – his opinions and priorities – that I’ve learned when not to comment, even when he delayed surgery for prostate cancer so it didn’t interfere with his hockey season.

Because of my dad’s love of hockey I grew up with it as part of my life. Now I have a little boy who’s growing up in that same hockey family.

When Connor was younger, we timed visits around Grandpa’s hockey practices and family dinners around Flames games. When we watched games on TV, Grandpa made sure Connor knew who to cheer for. (If you’re part of this family you’re a Flames fan, and that’s that.)

My dad got older, as dads do, but he didn’t give up the game. A few years ago my mom got him a new hockey bag as a gift – a fancy one, with wheels and lots of space for gear. He got good use out of it, carting it over and over from the house to his car and to the rink and back again, complaining, at times, about “old guys” who were a little too slow for a guy who just wanted to get out there and chase the puck.

But no longer. After almost 70 years my dad has hung up his skates. Admitting to the emotion of it, he posted on Facebook: “I just cleaned out my wheeled hockey equipment bag for the last time… It’s been a great sport.”

The bag has now gone to my brother, who carries his own flame of passion for the game.

He might not play anymore, but my dad’s involvement with hockey isn’t over. There’s a new generation coming along – someone who has the right jersey and just needs to learn how to skate. Luckily we have someone who would love to teach him.

Filed Under: Love letters · Tagged With: family, love, my wish for you

Thoughts from the Road(Trip)

June 9, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

We pulled into our driveway last night and could hear our dog – having spent the past week waiting to see if we’d ever come back – barking madly. Upon opening the door, he came storming out. He jumped. He licked. He ran circles around us.

We’re home.

The trip – despite some moments of going crazy – was great. A few observations:

Spending seven full days with a toddler when you haven’t done that often – in fact, ever – is…what’s the word? Challenging? Exhausting? Enlightening? Crazy-making? Endearing? Yes.
I might, possibly, need to plan a little bit more alone time on future trips.
Toddlers who are pretty tied to a routine at home do surprisingly well on road trips.
Next time, I need to remember to bring bath toys. (Thanks again, Paige, for kitting us out for the trip home.)
When you tell your three-year-old boy you’re going to a play date and he’s quite concerned about whether there will be diggers there, and then you arrive to find that there are, in fact, diggers to play with, the look on his face is priceless.
It turns out three-year-old boys quickly forget about diggers when there’s a selection of fire trucks to play with.
A two-day drive with a toddler is actually not so bad when he can watch shows on the iPhone once the toys and games you brought get boring.
The second day is especially quiet when the toddler is sick, spent the whole previous night throwing up, and then sleeps most of the way home. (Poor little monkey.)
My family – those who were there and those who weren’t – are truly one of my biggest blessings.
There’s a reason we seem to go there every year. It’s becoming even more about the people, though I will always find a piece of my soul in the place.

Filed Under: Motherhood · Tagged With: family, favourite activities, living life, love

Recipe for Going Crazy

June 6, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

Add:
1 road trip
1 high-energy toddler
1 minor time change that throws off the schedule of people who normally quite like routine
Different environments that seem to inevitably cause above-noted toddler to have a gigantic screaming fit at bedtime
1 mom already feeling the angst of a state of limbo
A few shots of driving back and forth between places that are beautiful but that also happen to cause this:

Subtract:
Sufficient personal space
Normal required amount of exercise
A few elements of normally good diet and nutrition

Your finished product should look like this:

Heading home tomorrow.

Filed Under: Happy things · Tagged With: anxiety, bedtime, family, sleep, travel

Hello, Inspiration – Rocky Mountain Soul

June 5, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

With apologies in advance to my mother, who will probably cry when she reads this.

Sometimes inspiration isn’t a thing or a person, it’s a place.

I’ve driven this road a hundred times. It contains a part of my soul that I only actually see – actually feel – when I’m on it.

It leads me to where I’m from – not a city, necessarily, but a place packed with memories.

The significance of this place was passed down to me by my family’s history and my mother’s love of the mountains. It has now been passed down to my son who, when we met up again after he drove with my parents for a while, proudly announced, “I saw Grandma’s favourite mountain!”