Drum roll please ... the most adorable grandchildren ever!

Snips and snails, and puppy dogs tails - that's what little boys are made of!

Parker (born November 18, 2011) and Emery (born January 13, 2012)

My reasons for joy are piling up!

Happy Birthday to Me

The below post was a Birthday gift written for me by my sister Renee, she posted it on her blog "Circling My Head" for my 48th - I loved it then and I still love it - I only wish I could tell her again how much ...

I was five years old when my sister Shelly was born. Shelly had three older brothers and eight older sisters; she was the 9th girl born and the 12th child in a family that would be comprised of 13 children.

Many of my earliest memories of Shelly are of her lying beside me in bed and telling me little stories of her days at school and then I would always tell her how brave and how rightly she behaved in every single situation.

I have so many memories of Shelly from my childhood. I remember Shelly as being a little more quiet than the rest of us and also a little more loved by all of us.

Shelly being the youngest girl has always been spoiled and well loved by all of her sisters. We are all crazy about Shelly. In many ways I think Shelly is the most serious of all of us girls while at the same time she has a real ability of being so funny.

Shelly and I had the most fun ever in our shared bed for three (Mickey also slept with us). I remember Shelly trying to teach me how to crochet night after night after night and if I remember correctly the wool was yellow and in the end I think Shelly made a scarf out of it. I have always read a lot and I remember Shelly would go to bed and I would go with her just so that I could read to her while she fell asleep. Sometimes I think she must have been like my little doll and I could never get enough of her.

When Wahid and I first started dating Shelly was only 12 or 13 and she met Wahid at the bus stop for me because I was sick. He offered her a cigarillo and she told me later in bed and we laughed our heads off. I mean who would offer a 12 year old a cigarillo?

I remember when we traveled across Canada and the States, I always wanted Shelly to be able to come in our car because she was such a cool kid (and truth be told when she wasn't around I felt like I was missing an arm). Shelly totally knew how to chill and go with the flow. But sometimes we would have to take the other kids because they wanted a turn in the crazy car with me and Suzie too, and when that would happen I remember always whispering ‘You can come with us at the next stop okay Shelly?’ And she would say ‘Okay.’ And sure enough at the next stop I would ask ‘Mom can Shelly come with us now?’ and Mom always said ‘Okay Shelly, go with Renee.’

Shelly was a beautiful child with dark brown hair down to her waist and blue eyes. Shelly would probably tie with Jacquie for the most freckles in the family. She was covered. Shelly is a gorgeous woman with incredible eyes.

Most of my memories with Shelly don’t necessarily stand out as hilarious memories but more always as heartwarming meaningful memories; memories that I hold dear to my heart. We have always had serious conversations about any and everything. Me telling Shelly what I believed in; and Shelly telling me right back that she believed in the exact same thing. We were truly a match made in bed-partner Heaven.

When Angelique and Nadalene were babies and I worked evenings Shelly would come over right after school to baby-sit them until Wahid came home. Shelly would take them to dance classes and acted like a little mother. They loved their Auntie Shelly and they still do. Shelly was my bridesmaid and is Nathan’s Godmother.

Josephine takes right after her grandma in how she feels about Auntie Shelly. Yesterday when she saw that Shelly was coming to the house she screamed 'Shelly' and flew to the door and into Shelly's arms. I myself have wanted to do that same thing too many times to count.

Shelly is quiet and smart and introspective. I think that she is sometimes misunderstood because she is probably the most different of all the sisters. I always get Shelly though, it is as if I know exactly where she is coming from.

Even though Shelly was the youngest girl; she was also the coolest in many ways.

I am Shelly’s favourite although for years she has tried to say that she loves all her sisters the same. Others have bought it, but I know it is total bullshit.

Describing Shelly I would say that she is very attractive and looks younger than she is. Shelly has beautiful blue eyes and is smart, compassionate, cool, loyal, and witty. I am happy that Shelly is my sister.

A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves – a special kind of double. ~~ Toni Morrison ~~

I love my sister and she means the world to me. Shelly thank you for the privilege.

Happy 48th Birthday Shelly. Love Renee, Wahid, Angelique, Nadalene, Nathan, and Josephine.

*artwork by Kelly Vivanco

Posted by Renee at 12:19 AM 80 comments Links to this post

Labels: family

The Gift

In March, just before what would have been my sister Renee's 54th birthday I received mail from a land far far away - a charished gift from an incredible artist and friend.  Renee was the inspiration for "The "Speak no Evil" monkey - she met Bjornik through her amazing blog "Circling My Head".  Renee was and still is an inspiration to me - I often hear her voice in my head - over the last few years she would often say "Shelly, you should start a blog" ... she enjoyed doing her's so much and got so much out of it, I believe she wanted me to have that same experience ... I loved her so much and really can't believe she is gone.

Below is a copy of  a email I sent to Bjornik ...

Dear Bjornik,

How sweet are you?  I have to tell you I was so surprised and thrilled to death, I was so excited when I went to the post office to pick up what?  I did not expect such a big parcel – I probably looked like the village idiot as I could not wipe the smile off my face - I couldn’t wait to get home and see what it held!  I savoured every minute, first making myself a cup of tea (doubling up on the pleasure) and then taking pictures as I opened it!  The card was beautiful, I loved it and the words really hit home – you are so kind and caring – your parents must be very proud of the man you have become. 

You have no idea what your gift means to me.  Of course the anniversary of Renee’s passing has just happened and I was feeling more angry than ever.  I was angry at the passing of time and could not believe one year had passed, in the weeks leading up to March 9^th I started thinking more and more about Renee, her illness over the last four years, thinking that Cancer is a  fucking bitch who robs people – it robs and it alters relationships.

There was a 7 year age difference between Renee and me.  Even though we came from a family with nine girls, I think to both of us she was the big sister and I was the little sister – we loved everyone else, but the rest were just our sisters.  Renee was one of those people, you know the ones you have in your life who really define how you think about yourself – someone who looks at you with rose coloured glassed on, someone who thinks you are the greatest thing since sliced bread, someone who thinks you are smart, and beautiful and funny and talented and all things great and wonderful – one of those people who enables you to believe all those good things about yourself too.  If ever I had a problem I would go to her, she always had the answer and knew just what needed to be said or done so that the stars and planets in my world would once again align perfectly giving me peace and clarity once more.  In turn I would do whatever she asked, from keeping the secret from my parents that her boyfriend was in our bedroom crying his eyes out in the middle of the night because she broke up with him, to meeting Wahid at the bus stop the first time he was meeting our parents because she was in bed sick, to babysitting everyday because she worked nights and Wahid worked days.  It was easy to be her right-hand girl, I loved it!  If you knew Renee and I actually think you did, you know she asks for naught, it was her character to give not to take – especially when it came to emotional support.  When I had my daughter I named her after Renee – Natalie, Renee ... they also shared a very close relationship, when Natalie was little she would throw a giant fit when it was time to leave Auntie Renee’s house – it used to drive me crazy, but Renee would just laugh and torment me more by egging her on “I wish you didn’t have to leave Natalie” or “too bad you can’t sleep over Natalie”  actually I am just now remembering that when I found out I was pregnant with Natalie I was 18 years old – sitting in Renee’s living room waiting for the doctor to call – oh God I was so scared and didn’t know what to do – without her support who knows where I would be?  Natalie was like a little sponge, she listened to every word Renee said – Renee told her you must be educated, travel the world, be liberal, care about people and be kind – that is just how she turned out.  When Natalie was a year and a half I got married (to her dad Peter) and a few years later my two sons came along Pete & Matt – so here you have it – me with 3 little kids, Renee with 3 kids – up until the time that they started school we were all inseparable – my kids loving her kids, her kids loving my kids, Renee loving me and me loving her!  As life got busier we didn’t see each other as much but talked on the phone every day – I LOVED those conversations – Saturday mornings especially they lasted a minimum of two hours, she always had something interesting or funny to say – we would go back and forth between solving the problems of the world to reliving our children’s every move (as mothers like to do) to laughing our heads off about something or another – I MISS those conversations!

Right before Renee was diagnosed I could feel her pulling away – I tried many times to talk to her but she was too busy, or too tired and then a second disaster struck (followed by four more tragedies before she died) – my nephew on my husband’s side was killed in an accident – I was very close to him, his wife and two little girls aged 3 and 6.  In the beginning I would split my time trying to be supportive to Renee, Cherie (Jeff’s wife) and my parents who were both having health issues.  Renee was my big sister who always took care of me any chance she could, I now wanted a turn to take care of her... but she would not let me ... I tried, honestly I tried – I have gone over this many, many times in my head because I am trying to figure out what went wrong with our relationship – believe me I have analyzed it to death.  I want to understand why she pushed me away and can only think that the dynamic in our relationship “big sister/little sister” her the emotional giver, me the emotional taker – maybe she just couldn’t “get” what she needed from me?  I am not saying I was perfect or knew all the right things to say or do because I surely did not.  I will not put blame on her or really me for that matter – I blame cancer - it robbed us of our relationship; my heart breaks when I imagine her having to face her own immortality, pump her body full of poison, all that worry and sadness over her children – believe me, I know she had bigger fish to fry than me.  Just the same though, I was hurt because I saw her let other people in, people she was not as close to - I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, it was not all bad and she would tell me often she loved me and that we were “okay” but I always felt we weren’t, it was like our relationship now walked with a limp – I always thought that when my Mom passed away I would then have the time to devote, re-connect to Renee and heal what I thought (maybe right or maybe wrong) was broken, but that was not to be as she lived only a short five weeks following.

It might seem strange to you that I have spilt these beans to you a perfect stranger (friend), but in the end it all ties back to your gift.  Your gift gave me a memory to hold on to, the beautiful memory of my sister at her best – a person who cared about other people, a person who loved me to bits and who I in turn loved to pieces, a person who helped to inspire that beautiful artwork, a person who really spoke no evil, but swore a lot.  Your gift reminded me of all the good things, opening the door in my mind to feelings and memories beyond the four years of her illness - to a relationship that I cannot let be defined by her illness ... for that I am eternally grateful.

“Wise Monkeys” will hang in a place of honour in my home – every time I pass by it I will of course think of you – a person, from the other side of the world who worried about a blog friend’s little sister, who took time out of his day and money out of his pocket to send her the most amazing piece of art, not knowing his gift would free her from her struggle

...every time I pass by it I will think of my sister with a smile on my face and happiness in my heart.

Much love to you,

Shelly xo

Jeff

 

I remember walking in the door and Peter said to me; Jeff - accident - ambulance...

He was probably 6 years old the first time I met him, just a scrawny little guy with big blue eyes and blonde hair - much the same as his little Madison looks this very day.  Peter and I had just started dating and he took me over to meet his sister Teri, her husband Ken and their two boys Jason and Jeff.

We were both eager to please and impress, I wanted to be liked by my new boyfriend's family and I could tell Jeff wanted to be liked by his uncle's new girlfriend. 

We spent a lot of time with Jason and Jeff - babysitting, taking them places, camping together etc.  When Jeff was 11 his father died, Teri and the boys moved into a house on the same street we lived on - our house was two doors away from Peter and Teri's mom and they lived across the street from her.  Our daughter Natalie was 2 years old at that time and I appreciated the break when Jason and Jeff would come over everyday to play with Natalie and visit with me - as the circle goes they babysat and spent a lot of time with our family which grew to include Pete and Matt just as Peter had with them.

It didn't stop when they became teenagers - we could always depend on them and they could depend on us.  They were always welcome at our house and it was there that they would come to before a party, I would tell them how great they look, ask lots of questions - are girls going to be there? Peter would sneak them the odd beer!

I remember Grandpa firing him because he went on a delivery for the shop and stopped at my house for a visit.  I think it was the same week Grandma fired him when the garage door he painted didn't meet her standards.  It might sound bad, but when Jeff told the story complete with Russian and Polish accents we laughed our heads off!

To my children's delight they awoke many a Saturday or Sunday morning to find Jeff passed out on our couch because he was too drunk the night before to find his way home.  I remember getting phone calls in the middle of the night to go pick up Jeff as he is drunk causing a raucous or getting a phone call to let us know he was in an accident drunk driving and opted for the police to take him to the drunk tank instead of going home... a bit of a rebel without a cause, but Jeff was much more than that.

Jeff was the type of person that everyone loved, he was very funny - everyone thought so - he would get on a roll about something or other and people (myself included) would laugh and laugh - you had to see him in action.  His wit, charm and comedic timing made him irresistible

Jeff grew up to be very handy - there was nothing he would not attempt to fix or build himself.  He was forever helping people get their projects done - whether it was plumbing, electrical, car trouble, etc. etc. honestly if you had a problem Jeff was your “go to guy”.  I remember shortly after we moved into our current home I was away in Europe visiting Natalie and Peter decided to build a shed for the back yard.   When I got home I of course hated the location he picked to sit it on as it was blocking my view out the family room ... thus ensued the typical argument among married couples "well I don't like it" "it can't be moved" "why not" "because it can't" "why not" "it weighs a ton" "there has to be someway" "get used to it, because it is not moving" "well I hate it" "you never like anything" and "back" and "forth" and "tit" for "tat" when we later talked about it in front of Jeff he would interject with "come on it is perfect there" "you did a great job Pete - I really like the deck you built to sit it on (adding 100 pounds to the thing)" "you can still see the creek a little" (all the while laughing at me, rolling his eyeballs and making funny faces - out of Peter's line of vision of course)  until finally he would add "@$%# Pete, she’ll never stop *^&!@#$* you might as well move it"  he came up with a plan (involving rolling it on top of poles and lots of muscle - thankfully Pete and Matt who were probably 19 and 20 at the time had grown up to be big and strong) - in the end it only took them 30 minutes!  It is one of my best memories because in my mind's eye I picture Jeff solving my problem, making it happen and entertaining me all the while. 

Although I think that might have been one of the last times he helped us before he passed away it certainly wasn't the first time - the first time happened one million times ago.  All of them in typical Jeff fashion, never refusing us anything, fixing our problems while making us laugh the whole time.

Jeff married his high school sweetheart Cherie - Peter and I were both in the wedding party.  As he settled into marriage and family life Jeff, Cherie and their two girls Jordyn and Madison spent many happy occasions with us.  Whenever there was a celebration at our home or to do with our immediate family Jeff, Cherie and the girls were always included, when Cherie worked nights Jeff would often bring the girls over to pass the time – Jeff was a proud husband and father – he loved all three of his girls.

Life was as it should be until that day – I walked in the door and Peter said to me; Jeff - accident - ambulance...We no longer had Jeff - who would help us when we need it - who will fix things when they are broken – who would ever make us really laugh again? 

It has been five years since Jeff’s accident - I miss him and I think of him everyday, when he died  I literally felt like I had "shaken baby syndrome" my thought process wasn't working, my beliefs were no longer valid, my prayers went unanswered

I was numb, it was two years before I could really feel anything again, and then only because I had to.

Postscript; Shortly after he died they started playing the song “Good Man” by Emerson Drive on the radio – that song – that good man they sang about was Jeff; “lived a good life, loved a good wife, and always helped someone in trouble ... he was a father, brother, neighbour and a friend, he was a good man”

Who I am ...but sometimes ...Who am I?

Well who am I?  I am a broken person.  I am soon to be fifty (yuk) but that is not what is really bothering me, what is really bothering me is I need to find myself and don't know where to start looking.

You might think I am some lonely looser - not true.  You might think I have been abused in some way - not true, well I guess that would really depend on how you define abuse - is it only abuse if it affects you in a negative and irreparable way?  Then no, except for the fact that I love sweets and candy and actually eat mostly junk, sometimes for breakfast, lunch and supper - but can I really at this age blame that on an 80 year old great uncle who use to bring me candy and as I sat beside him eating he would have his hand under my bum, moving his fingers up and down?  I was only five at the time, but I look back on it like it is some joke rather than the serious issue it is - I probably got off easy with that bastard.

I am broken because of events and tragedies that happened over the last couple of years - things that left me feeling like I had shaken baby syndrome - things that shocked and appalled me - things that broke my heart.

I am the twelfth of thirteen.