A Poem

If I had you by my side
What would I do?
You would see me
I would see you

A thread as old as time itself
Connects us at the heart
There is no end
There is no start

Time, it passes
And yet stands still
One moment or a lifetime
I never get my fill

Your thoughts at times call out to me
They stir me to my soul
A dream, a whisper, a chance
The fleeting glance we stole

Haircut

I got my haircut yesterday––yes, I know, I’m a rebel. Or maybe the person who cut my hair is a rebel. Maybe we both are. Personally, I see nothing criminal about getting a haircut, but the way things are going these days, people are being treated like criminals for a heck of a lot less; just for daring to breathe freely while buying groceries, for example.

But anyway, that’s not what this post is about. Because I went and got my bootleg haircut, my eight-year-old daughter wanted one too. And, because you can’t just go out and get a haircut these day, she wanted me to do it.

Aside from the haircut I gave my two-year-old sister when I was four, and maybe the infamous self-directed bangs that seem to be a rite of passage for all teenage girls, I have never cut hair. What I can appreciate here in this situation is my daughters complete confidence in my ability to give her what she wants. I told her I have basically zero experience in cutting hair and that I had to first see if I even still had the pair of old hairstyling shears which, despite the fact that I never cut hair, I do still have. (Ask me where they came from, I couldn’t really tell you; probably my dad because he seems to think it’s important to be prepared for every situation with items that you would rarely use otherwise––thanks Dad!) Nonetheless, none of these minor attempts to discourage the idea that I should be the one to cut her hair deterred my daughter.

I watched a few videos about how to layer hair and how to cut curly hair, etc. I know a thing or two about taking care of curly hair thanks to my own curls, but I never cut my own hair. However, we are in extraordinary circumstances and I’m sure many people have resorted to experimenting with things they never would have otherwise. One of the beautiful things about this is that I am learning that I am capable of so much more than I have given myself credit for.

So I cut the girls hair. I did it. I decided not to go too short so that we’d have room to get it fixed if I totally botched it. But guess what? It turned out very well! If I had a day-job I wouldn’t be quitting it, as the saying goes. But, my daughter trusted me with her look and I did something new because of it. After I cut it, we washed her hair and I showed her how to properly care for curly hair––because up to this point she would just brush it into a frizz. We washed it with special shampoo to clean it up, then washed it with conditioner to help smooth the frizz. I showed her that a more delicate, smooth towel, or even an old t-shirt to squeeze out the excess water will reduce frizz. We put in a special curl cream and then diffused it. I showed her a whole new routine; it was time just for the two of us. And she gets to go back to school with a “new look” after the Christmas break.

Sometimes, being a mom can feel like a thankless job. But moments like this make me realize how much she values me, my input and the little things I can do to care for her. And that is a gift.

The Best Thing

The best thing just happened to me. Maybe not the best thing EVER, but definitely amazing for the times we are living in.

There is a smaller-than-average Walmart near my house. Now I know many people are saying “stop giving Walmart your money” and other such stuff. But the truth is, during this whole “pandemic” I have not had any issues at this little Walmart; most people are just there to get what they need and get out. People don’t mess with you if your mask or scarf isn’t suffocating you to their liking, or scold you for walking the “wrong way” in the aisles, mostly people living their lives, just like me.

Today, I went to pick up a few things for New Years Eve, and a few things to carry us into the first week of January so I wouldn’t have to make a big shopping trip right away. Of course, I ended up putting a lot more than I planned into my basket and it was a bit of a balancing act getting over to the checkout. I had a full basket on one arm and a handful of chips in the other when one of my boxes of crackers fell to the floor in a busy intersection of the store (thankfully not many people around). And as I’m thinking to myself “How am I going to make this work?” an older gentleman who saw it happen, walks over, picks it and places it back into my basket. There was a bit of gracious chit chat along with smiles and thank yous muffled by my “mandatory” scarf, but it was an otherwise normal, friendly pre-scamdemic interaction.

Then, at the checkout, because I had loaded so much stuff into my basket, I had to tell the friendly cashier that I may have bitten off more than I can chew because I only had so much cash with me. He was super patient and friendly, chatting with me the whole time, and I did end up having to leave some stuff behind. As I was sorting through what was more essential and what I could leave behind, looking for the last item that would bring my total under the amount of cash I had, he says, “Don’t worry, if you have $75 I’ll cover the rest.” The rest was $1.82, not a huge amount, but he did that for me and it was amazing. Understand, it’s not because I don’t have the money, I had just left my wallet at home. It was amazing because kindness seems to be a rarity these days, and I said as much to him. His small act of kindness, along with the other gentleman who helped me with my full basket, made that shopping trip an amazing experience.

I used to really enjoy doing the grocery shopping, now it’s a source of stress to go out and see all the people subjected to this forced masking and ridiculous rules about what is essential and what is not (according to who???), people shaming each other for tiny infractions––things that, under normal circumstances, would not be considered infractions at all, like breathing air with your face uncovered, for example. But today, I got to experience the kindness of ordinary strangers and it made my day.

I was so tickled by the whole experience that I smiled all the way home. One lady who had to stop for me at the stop sign signalled me to cross, a bit exasperatedly at first, but because I could not get the grin off my face as I walked by she cracked a big smile too. And others smiled and nodded from their vehicles, neighbours passing on the sidewalk returned my big smile and said hello. It was one of those moments when the clouds part and the sun shines and literally everything feels right in the world. Just amazing! Thank you so much kind people! Thank you God. Thank you Universe. Thank you, thank you, thank you for that amazing experience!

Gratitude

I was already having a great day. I’d had a morning zoom meeting that went really well and left me feeling very encouraged. I had a series of productive meetings and calls after that. It was a beautiful, albeit cold, day and I was planning a delicious dinner.

I had just picked up my youngest from preschool and while the older two were off somewhere else in the house, I had a quiet moment to sit with my little one in my lap while she finished off her veggies from her afternoon snack.

I held her and watched her while she quickly and quietly chomped each of her carrot sticks. It was a very mundane moment, but I was only feeling how lucky I was to be holding her in that moment and just enjoying her presence, and being fully present with her. I wasn’t thinking about anything else. I wasn’t rushing around to get dinner made, or running through a mental list of all the things I still had to do that evening. I was just being, and so was she.

In moments like those, it feels like everything that I can possibly feel grateful for is converging all at once and it’s so big. How is it possible that I am here? That we are here, having this experience? And the very reality that I am here having this experience is enough to feel immensely grateful.

If life has taught me anything, it’s that I am so grateful that I have the capacity to feel and to experience life. Even when those those feelings and experiences are heavy and difficult and I wonder, in the moment, if I’ll ever come out of it. In those moments, I go back to gratitude for the simple fact that I can feel it and experience it. And even more gratitude for knowing that I have always lived to see the other side of grief.