The last few months, I've been dealing with life. Planning the wedding has not been a factor in the slightest, neither has updating this blog. But it will be again soon.
I wanted to say thank you to you all for your support and positive thoughts, not to mention encouragement. The light at the end of the tunnel grows brighter and bigger every day.
My best.
Kat's M & M
Ruminations on Marriage and Menopause. Both for the first (and only) time!
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Thursday, November 03, 2011
Still Here
So, I thought I should check in. We're doing much better now. My sweetheart and I are working together to come to some kind of resolution.
Our friends are phenomenal. People are stepping up all over the place to help in any way they can. We can't take everyone up on their offers to help, but we appreciate all of them. Thank you so much!!!
Funny, they say that times like this in one's life show one who the friends truly are. We are blessed and rich with friends. Not to mention friends of friends whom we've never met who are horrified by what is happening and just want to help some way, any way they can.
It's been a bit overwhelming for both of us. All the love and compassion. Not completely unexpected, but the scope ... well, it goes beyond anything we've ever experienced before. It is a balm in particularly rough moments.
In the meantime, as Remembrance Day approaches I find myself thinking increasingly of my father and great-uncle, of the men in my sweetheart's family, all of whom served during the two great wars and in other conflicts and ways.
My great uncle was 17 when he was killed at Vimy Ridge. He lied about his age to join because he cared, as so many young men did, about what was happening. He knew it was wrong, so he did his bit and fought for his country. I have photographs of him in uniform, taken just before he shipped out. So young. So full of life and laughter. And I have the memorial card and bronze medallion from the King, sent to his family after he was killed not much more than a year later.
My father served during WWII. He was 24 when he enlisted. I have photographs of him in uniform, too, taken on his base. He told many stories of his years in the army; all of them humorous. He wouldn't talk about the more serious aspects of his service. Wouldn't. He abhorred the things he had to do, but he did them because it was what was required to defend his country, his way of life.
I look at our veterans and I wear my poppy proudly, to honour them, to honour the men in my family, to honour the sacrifices they all made fighting for the country they loved. The country I love. Passionately.
I don't recognize it, anymore. The Canada we have created is no longer the gentle, peace-loving, fair and just society that our veterans fought so hard to protect, to help create. We weren't a perfect country, there were warts and boils, but we could look in the mirror with pride.
I have no pride in my country today. In seeking to be a more fair and more just society, our governments have created a monster that nobody wants to look in the face. Nobody wants to recognize it, because we created it. We elected the officials who did this. We are all responsible. Every Canadian. I'm glad my father isn't here to see this. I'm glad. He would be devastated, I think. He gave his innocence serving this country. I lost mine living in it, as has my sweetheart.
I still wear my poppy with pride. Those who went before deserve that. Those who serve today, deserve that. I wear it for them. To honour all of them.
The rest of us need to take a good long, honest look in the mirror and ask ourselves if we are willing to live with the way things have turned out, or fight for the country we love. The country we thought we were living in. Only we can make these changes. Only we can stand up, look our governments in the face and tell them that we don't like what they've done in our names. It is wrong. It must be redressed.
In the meantime, my sweetheart and I are working together to find a positive path through all of this.
Our friends are phenomenal. People are stepping up all over the place to help in any way they can. We can't take everyone up on their offers to help, but we appreciate all of them. Thank you so much!!!
Funny, they say that times like this in one's life show one who the friends truly are. We are blessed and rich with friends. Not to mention friends of friends whom we've never met who are horrified by what is happening and just want to help some way, any way they can.
It's been a bit overwhelming for both of us. All the love and compassion. Not completely unexpected, but the scope ... well, it goes beyond anything we've ever experienced before. It is a balm in particularly rough moments.
In the meantime, as Remembrance Day approaches I find myself thinking increasingly of my father and great-uncle, of the men in my sweetheart's family, all of whom served during the two great wars and in other conflicts and ways.
My great uncle was 17 when he was killed at Vimy Ridge. He lied about his age to join because he cared, as so many young men did, about what was happening. He knew it was wrong, so he did his bit and fought for his country. I have photographs of him in uniform, taken just before he shipped out. So young. So full of life and laughter. And I have the memorial card and bronze medallion from the King, sent to his family after he was killed not much more than a year later.
My father served during WWII. He was 24 when he enlisted. I have photographs of him in uniform, too, taken on his base. He told many stories of his years in the army; all of them humorous. He wouldn't talk about the more serious aspects of his service. Wouldn't. He abhorred the things he had to do, but he did them because it was what was required to defend his country, his way of life.
I look at our veterans and I wear my poppy proudly, to honour them, to honour the men in my family, to honour the sacrifices they all made fighting for the country they loved. The country I love. Passionately.
I don't recognize it, anymore. The Canada we have created is no longer the gentle, peace-loving, fair and just society that our veterans fought so hard to protect, to help create. We weren't a perfect country, there were warts and boils, but we could look in the mirror with pride.
I have no pride in my country today. In seeking to be a more fair and more just society, our governments have created a monster that nobody wants to look in the face. Nobody wants to recognize it, because we created it. We elected the officials who did this. We are all responsible. Every Canadian. I'm glad my father isn't here to see this. I'm glad. He would be devastated, I think. He gave his innocence serving this country. I lost mine living in it, as has my sweetheart.
I still wear my poppy with pride. Those who went before deserve that. Those who serve today, deserve that. I wear it for them. To honour all of them.
The rest of us need to take a good long, honest look in the mirror and ask ourselves if we are willing to live with the way things have turned out, or fight for the country we love. The country we thought we were living in. Only we can make these changes. Only we can stand up, look our governments in the face and tell them that we don't like what they've done in our names. It is wrong. It must be redressed.
In the meantime, my sweetheart and I are working together to find a positive path through all of this.
Friday, October 21, 2011
We're Hanging In
We still haven't heard anything. My sweetie has the Sword of Damacles hanging over his head and the not knowing when it will fall is becoming extremely difficult to bear.
He has turned a corner, now. He started thinking more clearly a couple of days ago. Started making phone calls. People are trying to help us get a family law specialist to talk to us so we aren't just flailing about in the dark. We don't know how to handle this at this point. He's frightened.
I'm back at work, better able to concentrate now that my sweetie has surfaced. But I'm frightened and worried all the time. I keep waiting for this nightmare to end. I'll wake up and laugh at how real it all seemed. But it is real. I'm not going to wake up. We're trying to make plans, make decisions these last 24 hours and I have trouble focussing because a part of me is waiting for it all to be proved unreal.
Neither of us is eating properly. It's bad enough for me, but his blood sugar is completely messed up.
Anyway, I just wanted to update you. We are starting to move forward a little. Not fast enough. Not for what we're facing. But at least we are starting to do things.
He has turned a corner, now. He started thinking more clearly a couple of days ago. Started making phone calls. People are trying to help us get a family law specialist to talk to us so we aren't just flailing about in the dark. We don't know how to handle this at this point. He's frightened.
I'm back at work, better able to concentrate now that my sweetie has surfaced. But I'm frightened and worried all the time. I keep waiting for this nightmare to end. I'll wake up and laugh at how real it all seemed. But it is real. I'm not going to wake up. We're trying to make plans, make decisions these last 24 hours and I have trouble focussing because a part of me is waiting for it all to be proved unreal.
Neither of us is eating properly. It's bad enough for me, but his blood sugar is completely messed up.
Anyway, I just wanted to update you. We are starting to move forward a little. Not fast enough. Not for what we're facing. But at least we are starting to do things.
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