Lines By Lyons

Thanking Zack

I write this post for Zack and his family, the Hamiltons. If you are not familiar with Zack’s story, check out the posts on his mom, Heather’s blog.

I have never met the Hamiltons and had never met Zack, their beautiful boy. In the way technology like the Internet, smart phones and social media have of creating opportunities that would never have otherwise existed, I came upon a tweet 10 months ago in which Heather indicated she was “preparing to say goodbye” to her son. As a mother of three boys myself, my heart broke. And I couldn’t help but follow as she so unselfishly shared her family’s story – the love, the pain, the sorrow, the Elmos, and more love – with the world.

I have known other parents who have lost their children, some from unexpected and shocking accidents and some from horrible, unspeakable illnesses. I’m always left to shake my head in disbelief and confusion, unable to comprehend any reasoning for such an event to take place. And I am caused, again, to think about how precious and fleeting life is. I squeeze my kids a little tighter when I hug them, and they furrow their brows a bit, wondering what is up with their mum.

But it was different with Zack. As I continued to read about his story and the Dream Room the family was creating in his honour at the hospital where he had spent so much of his short life, it somehow scratched into my heart in ways no other story had. And then it started. I started to see Zack’s face. Don’t worry; I’m going to explain.

As we take on the seemingly endless to-do lists in our lives as parents – work, home maintenance, laundry, meals, shopping, car maintenance, and on and on, who hasn’t had a moment of annoyance when their child asks for something? You know, they need a drink or a snack or a new movie, or “Mum, can’t you play this game, ONE more time?” When all we want is a moment to ourselves, or to be left alone to cook dinner, fold the laundry, finish up that one task for work. We sigh, we say, “Not right how, honey” or “In a minute, sweetie” and we think geeze, can’t I just get a break for a second?

As I set my work aside one day and followed my three-year-old son into the bathroom, to simply stand there while he did his business because he is quite capable on his own but just doesn’t like to be in the bathroom by himself, I was guilty of having one of those frustrated moments. I’m wasting time standing here, I thought to myself. And FLASH – a vision of Zack’s face popped into my mind. And my three-year-old, standing on his stool and washing his hands turned and said, “I love you mama.” And I sobbed. And I hugged my son like a maniac while I sobbed and kissed him and sobbed more and spoke words of thanks aloud that I have this boy, that he is with me, that I have the ability to stand and watch him do his business in the bathroom, or do any of the other million little things we are asked to do as parents.

My life, my children’s lives, my family’s daily experience changed that day. Because of Zack, I don’t get annoyed or frustrated when my kids ask me to do something that takes me away from something else. I don’t mind the time spent doing homework or playing Go Fish for the millionth time or helping them get dressed when they could easily accomplish that themselves. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not perfect, and when I sense that frazzled feeling coming on, I think, Zack. I envision his adorable face. It calms me instantly, I give thanks for whatever moment I’m in with my children and give them a bunch of love. Because I recognize so clearly that as parents, if we didn’t have those moments, wouldn’t we be wishing for them and wanting to give anything to have them?

So I find myself in a place of debt to Zack and the Hamilton family. How could I ever do anything to thank them enough? I can’t. There is nothing. But as they undertake the creation of a second room in Zack’s honour at York Central Hospital’s pediatric unit, I can at least help with that, by donating. The small amount of money I set aside each year to donate to a different cause in memory of my own parents is being used this year to help honour Zack in this way and bring some joy and comfort to other families facing an illness with their child. And, I can ask you to help, too, by choosing to start off your 2012 by donating to this special project. Please share this post and/or send the link to the donation site to your family, friends, colleagues – anyone you think could help to raise the impact of Zack’s legacy.

It hardly seems enough. It isn’t. But Heather says that Zack lived in her womb, in her home and now he lives in her heart. I also express my appreciation by stating the truth that Zack’s face and spirit live in my heart and in my home every single day, because of the difference his influence has made in my family.

To a family I have never met, and a boy I never knew: from the depths of my heart, I thank you.

To everyone else, I not only ask you to help by donating, I ask you to be more present and appreciative of the time you have with your own children. Or grandchildren. Or nieces and nephews, brothers and sisters. Enjoy and give thanks for every moment – the fun moments, the stressful moments, even the moments that seem mundane. Because what could be better than a moment like this?

Posted in Family of Five | Tagged causes, children, death, death of a child, families, fundraising, grief, loss, Parenting, parents, Zack Hamilton, Zack's Dream Room

6 Comments

An Upstander before the Upstanders

My 14-year old is in his first year of high school. Because of the work I do with and for teens, he gets a bit more bombarded with the messages I try to impart because he hears and reads my “stuff” – as he calls it – so regularly. He knows and, thanks in part to a recent issue with a hacked Facebook account, has a solid understanding of the impact that choices made in a heartbeat can have in the future. My husband and I have both seen the change in him over the past year or so as he has started to truly take on responsibility for his actions and, just as important, his reactions.

Despite the anti-bullying movements and Safe Schools programs in the school boards, Nathan attends a high school where physical fighting occurs between students on a regular basis. This occurs on the school yard, where students gather to watch, cheer and take sides, and it seems the teachers and administrators turn a blind eye.

Late in September, Nathan arrived home and told me some kids in the hallway invited him to go outside with them to watch a fight. As I held my breath waiting for the rest of the story, Nathan explained that he told the students no, and explained to them that he didn’t agree with fighting, so he refused to pretend that he did by going to watch.

I think I squeezed him so tight when I hugged him that I made him cough. And he told me that he simply thought about it, and knew in that moment he had an important choice to make.

Before he took The Pledge (which he now has done, along with the rest of our family) and before the related Upstanders movement, Nathan stood up. He wasn’t ashamed or afraid to do the right thing.

Can’t we all do the same? If we did, we could effectively end bullying. Now.

Posted in Family of Five | Tagged Anti-Bullying, Bullying, Fighting, High School, Respect, Teens

Leave a comment

Squished cans and other quirky habits

Do you ever find yourself doing something you perceive to be silly, pointless or strange?

There are a few things I do that cause me to shake my head in wonder. Actually, let’s face it, there are probably more than a few things. But a few things in particular make me shake my head and almost wonder aloud why I do them. In fact, I did one of these things last week and did say out loud, “why do you still do that?” I was in the midst of preparing dinner for my family and had opened a can of green beans. After dumping the contents in the pan, I placed the jagged-edged circle that had been removed by the can opener inside the can, then squished the can and set it on the counter. I asked the purpose aloud and then stopped and just stared at the deformed can.

Then, I smiled to myself.

 I shook my head again and, still smiling, picked up the can and took it out to the recycle bin. I remembered how I started squishing the cans in my youth, after asking my dad why he did so each time he opened a can of something to go with our meals. (Yes, my dad was the cook in our family)! He had explained to me that with the edge of the cut-off lid being so sharp and dangerous, squishing the can caused the lid to be stuck inside. “That way, it can’t come out and hurt anyone by cutting them,” he had said. It made sense. And so I started to do the same thing. The habit stuck. When I caught myself doing it last week, I smiled at the memory; at the fact that I do something that caused me to recall so clearly a particular time spent in the kitchen with my dad.

And, for that very reason, I vowed to keep doing it.

It doesn’t matter that I take all cans I may open straight to the recycle bin and have no worries about the kids digging through the remnants in there and being hurt by jagged metal. It doesn’t matter that I assume – possibly incorrectly – that those who work at recycling establishments use appropriate equipment and wear personal protective items to prevent any such injuries from happening.

What matters is the memory. And the connection it invokes. 

This caused me to start thinking about other things I do that are similar. Like the sprinkle of salt I add to the grounds in my coffee filter each morning. A quick Google search revealed that it is a practice that is known to reduce the bitterness in brewed coffee. That is exactly the reason my grandmother told me she added the sprinkle to the grounds she scooped into her percolator when I would help her make coffee and tea during family gatherings. I started to do it at home when I would prepare coffee for my parents after dinner or in the morning before they woke up. It is another habit that has stuck with me – and when I sprinkle that salt each day, I can almost smell the warm aroma of my grandparents’ kitchen.

I miss those people and those moments. And these small, seemingly-quirky habits bring them close to me, if only for a fleeting moment, and honours those moments that gained a specialness despite their everyday simplicity.

Do you have any similar habits? What different or unusual things do you do that reminds you of your loved ones, whether or not they are still physically present in your life?

If there is something, DON’T STOP DOING IT. If there isn’t something, is there something you can think of that you can start doing that would cause you to smile a knowing smile and honour a special person or moment?

Posted in Random Ramblings | Tagged Food, Ramblings, Random Thoughts, remembrance

2 Comments

Do what matters the most

I’m not a perfect parent. Nor have I claimed to be a perfect parent. Ditto for my husband. In fact, I don’t know any parents to whom I would apply a label of perfection, nor do we expect it of them. Isn’t parenting more of a process in which we grow and learn and just keep on keeping on while doing the best we can do?

Our two youngest kids have bedtime issues. They like to sit and cuddle with Mom and Dad (more specifically, Dad) when they should be in their beds in their rooms. By themselves. Falling asleep.

Our oldest is what you might refer to as high maintenance. He enjoys shopping, eating out and going to the chiropractor. He likes to “have things.” A massage and a pedicure (neither of which he has ever experienced) were both included on his Christmas wish list.

Are we terrible parents for sometimes indulging our kids in this way? They don’t constantly get their way or whatever item they have requested. But if our soon-to-be-three-year-old wants me to pick him up so he doesn’t have to walk up the stairs, is that really so terrible? If our five-year-old wants to snuggle under a blanket with his Dad instead of lying in his bed alone, is that horrible? Or is it positive that he recognizes where and with whom he feels safe and secure? If one of us is out shopping with our thirteen-year-old and we stop somewhere for lunch instead of coming home to eat, are we being over-indulgent?

Or are these “the moments” that get taken for granted far too often that we should all stop to recognize and appreciate?

Why do I ask?

Recently, a family from our local area lost their son. He was 20 years old. We know two men in their 40s who have been diagnosed with MS, causing their future physical abilities into question.

So here’s the way I see it. If my children want to be carried or cuddled, or to be treated to a restaurant lunch, or to run in the yard for an extra ten minutes – we should be more open to letting these things happen. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not advocating constant over-indulgence. But I consider the future – and really, when our children have grown and my husband and I have aged together – or God forbid, if an illness befalls any one of us – will it really matter that we cuddled them at night, or had a great conversation at that unexpected lunch, or that a child was carried up the stairs when he was quite capable of navigating the stairs all by himself?

Certainly, those things will matter. Because we will be grateful for having done it. Instead of regretting not having done it and wishing for the time back to do it differently.

Hug your kids. Spend special time talking with and just being with them. While they are still with you and you still have the ability.

As an imperfect parent, I think that is what matters the most.

Posted in Family of Five | Tagged children, death, disease, illness, life, marriage, Parenting

3 Comments

Is a life worth saving?

Last week, I read an article in The London Free Press about a local mother who is awaiting a biopsy to determine whether or not she has thyroid cancer. Despite finding out about the growth in May 2010, the woman is still waiting to see a specialist, who will then need to order the biopsy. The story and it’s accompanying list of wait times for cancer treatment at local health care facilities infuriated me.

My personal history may have something to do with the fact I was seeing red after reading the article. When my own mother was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer after a (supposed) successful treatment less than a year prior, we attended multiple appointments during which any symptoms she was experiencing and results of any tests or x-rays were discussed. Treatment was sometimes mentioned as an afterthought at the end of the appointment, always in relation to “deciding” on a plan, at which time a start-date for the treatment could be selected. It was three months before a “life-prolonging” treatment plan was created. By this time, the cancer was far too advanced and my mom was only able to withstand one round of treatment before the cancer took her life.

So what’s with all this waiting? Shouldn’t people have the option to receive treatments and undergo procedures and surgeries – particularly ones that could be life-saving – without such a drastic wait? Or is it that the medical community doesn’t mind allowing conditions to advance? That secures their jobs, right? And in the case of life-threatening illnesses, long-term care facilities receive residents and eventually, a funeral home and cemetery or crematorium receive business. Thinning out the herd, anyone?

Just venting to say that all this makes me sick and I think someone in the medical community and the government needs to step up and care enough to do something about it.

A couple of years ago, I had to take my husband to a well-respected eye clinic at a local hospital. It was impossible not to hear what was being said in the other exam rooms, so we overheard someone diagnosed with such a dire condition that they required immediate surgery to save their eyesight. Calls were made, the surgeon alerted and the patient was taken to be prepped for the surgery within two hours.

If a person’s vision is worth saving, isn’t a life worth saving?

Posted in Random Ramblings | Tagged biopsy, cancer, cancer treatment, death, life, medicine, vision

Leave a comment

Wonderful weeds

I understand that many people consider weeds to be a nuisance and an eyesore.  To my husband’s chagrin, our lawn this year was full of clover.  The white clover flowers and yellow dandelions polka-dotted the green backdrop usually within less than 24-hours of mowing the lawn.  Inevitably, the dandelions would turn to seed, and when the kids played in the yard, they would kick at the seeds and of course, blow the seeds off of the stems, sending the seeds flying around our property to find new places to take root.

I personally don’t mind the weeds so much.  Don’t get me wrong.  It is frustrating to have to weed my gardens almost daily throughout the summer to catch the dandelions and thistles before they become so big that I need to dig them out with a shovel.

But I love to watch the kids as they run and giggle while creating clouds of dandelion seeds.  And even though Nathan was stung on the bottom of his foot when he chose to run barefoot on the grass, I kind of enjoy watching the bees hovering just above the grass and landing on the clover flowers.  (Now Nathan knows to put on some type of footwear before he ventures out on the lawn).

The main reason I appreciate the weeds though is because my younger boys, aged four and two, like to pick the clover flowers and dandelions and bring them to me as gifts. This in itself is not extraordinary as so many children do the same.  What strikes me is their motivation. They pick something they consider to be a pretty flower, and present it as such a pure, unadulterated expression of honest-to-goodness love.

How could that (and whatever comes with it) be anything but breathtakingly beautiful?

Dandelion from Tysen - November 2010

Posted in Family of Five | Tagged children, dandelions, expressions of love, flowers, love, Random Thoughts, weeds

2 Comments

Special poppies

This is what the entrance to my son’s school looked like in honour of Remembrance Day:

I have tried to explain the meaning of the day to Tysen since he was born. (I was anxiously awaiting his birth on Remembrance Day of 2005 – but that’s another story). I knew once he began school, he would get more of an education about soldiers and war, past and present.

Of course, he came home from the day at school with questions. He asked me, “You know the soldiers? Did the soldiers die last night?” I tried to explain about wars – some long ago, some much too recent.

His response, as words from my children so often do, amazed me.

“But Mom,” he said, “I want them to wake up now because they are my favourite soldiers.”

And then the kicker:

“And I don’t wan them to die anymore because I love them. They are special for us.”

They are special, indeed.

And none should die anymore.

Posted in Family of Five | Tagged poppies, poppy, Remembrance Day, soldiers, Veteran's Day, war

3 Comments

Remembering Mom

Leave it to one of my children to put things into proper perspective.

A while ago, I was sorting a pile of mail and came across an envelope from the annual Canadian Cancer Society lottery.  But instead of being addressed to me or my husband, it was addressed to my mother.  It used her full name (as opposed to the familiar version of her name), under which was the mailing address for my home.

I was furious, and took to my Twitter profile to express my annoyance.  Not only has my mother never lived at my address, but she died more than six years ago.  Of breast cancer.

In addition to the obvious irony that a promotional package for this particular lottery would be mistakenly addressed to my late mother, I found it just hurt to read her name.  The fact of her death and how she died is something that smacks its insult multiple times on a daily basis – an extra smacking reminder was like salt in the wound.

I told my husband and 13-year-old (step)son, Nathan when they arrived home that evening.  My husband agreed that it was ridiculous to have received such a thing.

Nathan didn’t say anything.

He greeted his younger brothers, then eyed the envelope as he approached me.  After giving me a hug, he said, “I don’t think that’s such a bad thing.”

Surprised at his response, I asked why he didn’t think so.

He shrugged.  And rocked my world when he said, “I think it’s kinda cool that someone else remembers her.”

Stunned, I stared at the name on the envelope.  The fact that the name and address was probably printed by some computerized program and not someone who actually knew or remembered my mother was irrelevant.  The more I stared at the name, and thought about the person my mother was, I knew that Nathan was right.

It was, in fact, nice to see her name.  I only needed to choose to control the thoughts that seeing her name brought about.  If I concentrated on the good, positive memories and considered how thankful I am to have had her at all, my 13-year-old was right.

The unexpected reminder turned out to be “kinda cool.”

Posted in Family of Five | Tagged death, dying, grief, mothers, passings

5 Comments

Soup better than famous ribs

My husband and I recently went out for dinner to celebrate a special occasion. We decided to try the new location of Tony Roma’s in north London. Because we have three children, getting out as a couple is a big deal, so we were looking forward to a nice dinner to begin an enjoyable evening out of the house.

Reservations had been made, so we did not have to wait to be seated at our table when we arrived, despite the fact that the restaurant was extremely busy and at least 10 patrons were waiting in the vestibule area.  Our server attended our table almost immediately to welcome us and take our drink order.  I was attempting to read the drink menu and, admiring some colourful concoctions in martini glasses in a booth across from us, I asked the waiter if there were any specialty cocktails he would recommend.  I usually ask for recommendations because it affords me the opportunity to try drinks I have not heard of or would not make at home.  The server suggested a Singapore Sling, and upon my indication that I am not a fan of gin-based drinks, he suggested a Tom Collins – which is also made with gin.  I settled for a caesar, which I don’t drink regularly and would make at home, because the server could not come up with any other suggestions.  The waiter redeemed himself a bit when I asked if a dill pickle could be included with the caesar, and he offered to obtain one from the kitchen to make sure the drink was to my liking – which it was.  Perfectly spiced and with the traditional accompaniments of celery stick, lemon wedge – and my specially requested dill pickle.

Not wanting to fill up before the main course, my husband and I decided to share the baked potato soup, which friends had told us was a must-have item.  Impressively, the server split the soup into two bowls, instead of providing one dish of the soup for us to eat with two spoons.  The soup was perfect eating temperature – not so hot that waiting was required, but not a degree of warm that was too cold for the soup to be enjoyed as a warm and comforting appetizer.  In addition, the soup, topped perfectly with a sprinkle of cheese, chives and bacon bits, was nothing short of delicious and as the waiter removed our empty bowls, I found myself wishing I had ordered a smaller main course and a full order of the soup.

Both my husband and I decided to try the ribs, which is supposedly the restaurant chain’s claim to fame.  As they advertise “world famous ribs, steaks and seafood,” we decided to sample some of each.  We both opted for the St. Louis ribs and selected additions: a medium-rare steak for my husband, and the grilled shrimp for me.  Coleslaw was a come-with side, and we were able to choose an additional side dish.  I selected the baked beans while my husband opted for the garlic mashed potatoes.

The service was slow as more than 30-minutes passed between receiving our soup and receiving the main course.  Our server had advised us when he removed our soup bowls that he would bring bread, but that it would be a bit of a wait as it was being freshly baked.  The bread arrived after we had begun to eat our main courses; perhaps it was supposed to be crusty, but it was hard and cold, so we did not even attempt to slice into it.

The first few mouthfuls of the garlic mashed potatoes were enjoyable, as the potatoes were hot and smooth, although it took more than one mouthful to detect the garlic.  It did not take long however for the potatoes to become cold and dry.  The coleslaw was bland despite the appearance that it was in a part creamy, part vinagrette dressing.  The baked beans were reminiscent of summer with their cool temperature and barbecue flavouring.

It was interesting that the server who delivered the main courses to the table (not our waiter) asked my husband to slice his steak open to confirm that it was cooked to his liking.  My husband is not picky about steak and said it was fine, and he enjoyed it; however I found it to be overly oozing of blood from the centre to be considered a true medium-rare.  The grilled shrimp that accompanied my ribs came on a skewer with vegetables, which was surprising because the menu simply lists “grilled shrimp” without indicating it will be on a skewer or accompanied by peppers and onions.  The first thing I ate from my main course was one of the shrimp – which was cold and rubbery and had very little taste.  The taste it did have was not so much of having been seasoned or grilled, but of the crusty, black burnt bits on the shrimp that simply tasted like soot.  The peppers and onions were similar – not completely cooked and sporting charred, black edges.

Finally, the ribs.  Again, the temperature here was perfect, allowing for the use of hands without burning but without the food being cold or just slightly warm.  The ribs were tasty and fall-off-the-bone tender, but the “famous Tony Roma’s sauce” was only dabbed very lightly on the rack, so it was difficult to get any true sense of its flavour.

Once we had declined to order dessert (because the meal had been so filling) the bill was provided without any offer of coffee, tea or additional beverages.  Our waiter had attended the table only once during our meal, which was appreciated as it allowed my husband and I to enjoy each other’s company as we ate our meals.

While the ribs were good, we have had better and found it difficult to believe this is one of the main items on which the restaurant chain builds their brand and industry reputation.  And with the other disappointments, I can certainly think of other area restaurants, chain and otherwise, where I would rather spend $100 (or less at some of my preferred establishments) to enjoy a dinner date with my husband (not to mention a night out with friends or family).  But I do know where I would stop if I was craving a good bowl of potato soup.

Posted in Restaurant Reviews | Tagged Food, London Ontario, Restaurants, Ribs, Tony Roma's

7 Comments

Our Cruel Reality

I was shocked and saddened by the sudden passing of a close family friend this past week. It made me ponder the inevitability and uncertainty of this thing we call death.

Death is an inevitable event that we will all experience repeatedly in our own lifetimes, and it will eventually come to take each and every one of us out of this form of existence. How and when are unknown mysteries. All of the well-known cliches that indicate the shortness of this life and how it should be appreciated and valued instead of taken for granted would be easily applied here.

But I have experienced far more death in my 37 years than I care to remember. I can identify far too well with what this family is experiencing, and my heart breaks for them. What I know is this:

The shock of losing a loved one, whether suddenlly or following a long illness, is still a shock. It is hurtful, foreign, harsh and just plain wrong to have to start referring to a parent, relative or any loved one in the past tense. There is nothing more permanent than death. And the heart-wrenching realisation that we will never again hear that person’s voice, see their face, hold them close or look into their eyes causes such pain that for a while, we move about the world in a kind of fog, wondering how everyone else can be going about their daily lives as if everything is normal. We think that the world should stop.

Because in a very real way, our world has stopped. We have been forced to accept an unwanted, unwelcome change. Life as we have known it will never, ever be the same. We must go on, but differently than before, and without the physical presence of someone who had been an important part of our existence.

It sucks. It is cruel. It is the reality we are forced to endure.

Posted in Random Ramblings | Tagged death, dying, grief, loss, passings

2 Comments