Heavenly Bodies / Magic Missile

Heavenly Bodies

"Three little bodies, three big lights"

The three daughters, the 3 stars that I hand plucked from the sky's abundant star-fruit tree.  I selected them because of the way they caught my attention from way down here.  They were pink and gold, warm and soft, shiny and new, and they had texture to them.  When I reached up and felt, I sensed a pulsation in my palms and so I wrapped my fingers around the beats to drink in the life source.  And then I pulled.  Down they came.   

They are my vibes.  Their star-like pulsations reside in my core.  Living outside and separate from my body - they dance around their own large moons.  

I am the earth.

Magic Missile

When the kids are not with me for a stretch of time, I have this ability of turning into my own missile - a heat seeking weapon of mass destruction.  You wouldn't know it by looking at me, all small and nimble and girly.  Not at all.  Why I am my father's daughter - but with a twist.

Stuck in the Innertube

Ah summer of 2013.  The sunniest July on record in Vancouver.  My family is observing Ramadan and I am practicing the art of chillling out.  Giving my soul some peace and quiet.  Letting the Vitamin D do it's thing.
The girls and I have been quality timing and we have so many stories to share.  Layla is in preschool through the summer which I count as respite.

The girls and I picked up cousin Zakir and headed to an outdoor pool here in Richmond for some splish splashy fun.  Maya and Sabrina were too excited about me coming with them to this pool and I can see why.  It is a great size pool with a couple of fun waterslides.

In the pool we got and down the slides they went.  I watched and then an empty innertube bumped into me.  Well hello innertube, let me climb on in.   I shimmied my tooshie in the tube and proceeded to make the rest of me comfy as I oversaw my young posse.

Sun was beating down on me,  there was this lovely breeze coming through fanning me comfortably and I was happily bobbing my way into serious chill out mode.  I was care free and completely unbothered.

The kids decided it was time to get out for a quick snack (pakoras which Z's lovely and kind Dadi (grandma) packed for us - picnic pakoras why not!!).  Sure thing kids, I'm right behind you.

Sure enough.  My bottom was stuck.  Stuck in the innertube.  So stuck that the hot plastic molded itself around my lower parts that there was no graceful way of me removing myself.  By this time, there are lots of men women and children in the pool.  And of course, I did come wearing my mascara and my hair couldn't get wet.  Nope, it was not a hair getting wet pool day.  Not in the plans, so I couldn't even make a flip into the pool to detach the tube from my tush.

Kids are chowing down on sushi and pakoras watching me as I float and wave.  "hellooooo kids, I'm here, I can see you!"  Floating and waving.  I decided that the only thing for me to do right at this moment was to succumb to the stuck and ride the waterslide waves.  I put my head back, sunglasses on and lounged.  All gooooood.  The only thing missing was an umbrella drink - which I requested from the cute boy / lifeguard.... of course - it IS me.

I came to my senses with Maya saying "um Mommy, EVERYONE is watching you sleep on the innertube. We've eaten all the pakoras, because like you say "you snooze you lose".  And your randomly bumping into strange people Mommy and they're trying to ignore you  while pushing you away from them and their children.  It's a little strange".

All the while Zakir and Sabrina ignore me and go to the deep end of the pool together.  Whatever Maya.  Whatever.  Crazy innertube.

Soaring To Cloud 9

Yesterday was play day.  We were at the school playground and Layla, Maya, Me and Sabrina were each on a swing - lined up side by side in that order.  And we all soared high up to the sky with no fear of falling off.  Just flying together.  It was metaphoric.  Mind you I can stretch anything into a metaphor.... but that is what is cool about me.

As a kid, I would soar up on the swings and I would daydream about my life ahead.

Yesterday I was swinging in the present moment of my life and like us four girls swinging, there was total momentum.

This week Sabrina has been flying on her bike, riding confidently and safely (for her that means a helmet on her head and moving right into trying to stand on the bike as she goes 80 km / hour).  I watch her and I am really really proud with a lump in my throat.

Layla has been soaring.  Playing on her play mat and with her friends.  She and her friends at preschool are - well, this one makes me weepy.  Because, she has friends and they love her.  There is so much good in her life.  Why am I always so surprised and humbled by her world...?

Mothe?r Bear

Inspiration comes at me all the time.  In spurts, when I'm otherwise occupied, but today - tonight, it has happenned once again and here I am.  

We are at my in-laws house for Easter weekend.  I am headed upstairs to bed when I reach the top of the stairs to face a picture.  A picture of three girls looking off into the distance while all huddled loosely together.  These are my girls, but what I see is the youngest of the three standing tall - and how mine isn't. 

Why does she not work?

Let me take you to the NICU (nursery) two years ago....... 

At first, it wasn't obvious that my child would be disabled.  I was given a pamphlet on cleft palates - telling me how I wouldn't be able to breast feed in this particular situation.
Alright.  I won't breastfeed.  Wow.  That's all I knew.  I lay back on my cot and considered that one, thinking shit - that's wierd.  Put down the pamphlet and ask the nurse for a pump and some bottles so that we can feed the babe.  Let's go.  Just another way of doing things with some babies. 
And then time went by in our little room.  She and I together hanging out.  My mother in law coming by to pick me up and take me for a walk, my brother, mum and dad, friends, well wishers.  I can't recall..... much of anything....
Michael and the girls.  Him putting on a brave front in front of Maya and Sabrina to celebrate the birth of their kid sister - oh were they ever happy.  They sure uplifted me.  It was so nice having all of my children together with baby's first few days of life, even though we weren't at home together.  We made it work.

I read three books.  Not epic books or anything.  But that reading I believe now, in retrospect was a means for my body not to crumble.  Escape.  Gentle easing myself into accepting such a heart wrenching reality of something wrong with my innocent and perfect little baby.  My baby.  My birth, my pregnancy.  Mine to hold responsibility for.  Mine to get my head and heart around.  Mine to be strong about and mine to move forward with.

Here I am editing this particular blog post, a year later.  This one will build.  This one is mine to add onto as I go on my journey with Layla.  The pain is great I won't lie.  I love that girl so much and I am so sorry if I did anything wrong to do this to her.

It has to be said.  Because it is how I feel whether right or wrong.  Nobody can tell me otherwise.  Now, I do my best to make up for the loss of her being a regular functioning person.  Don't reprimand me for this.  This is a part of my reality, a little part, but a part never the less.

Right now, it is October 2012 and Michael and I are separated.  Our family has come apart and redirected and taken a new shape.  I don't have a companion that is a grown up.  I have my little buddies, they are my little companions.  We all need companionship.  I do.

One day.  One day.  For now, I will spend some time by myself.

Secret

Starting late December 2012, something happened to me.  For me, it was big.  I did something that surprised me completely.  Blindsided by my own behaviour and my capacity to act impulsively.  I let everything go - threw caution to the wind and acted on nothing but instict and impulse.  It felt so good.

June 2013.  It still feels good.  I've attached myself to the experience and the experience was a gift.  A gift that I didn't expect but that I did ask for.  The best gift.  From one that I was happy to receive it from.  More than happy.  There was a connection to my heart.  I acted from a heart place.  A place of curiousity and innocence.  And I am so very happy to have accepted the offering.

This experience has woken up me from the inside out.  I am a passionate girl.  I am confident and I am worthy and I love large.

This gift has kick started me and wow.  I'm back, I'm here, I'm ready.  I am free and a whole lot less scared.  There is a sign on the fridge saying "Let It Be - all is well".

Jennifer - good for me for allowing nature to unfold and going with what I know - in my heart's infinite wisdom - is right.  Good for me for living my practice.  Good for me for knowing that this is about me and for savouring the experience.  Good for me for doing what I love.  I did what I loved.  Good for me for not attaching to a thing - rather, attaching to the truth. Good for me for living life passionately.  It's the only way.  Good for me for being my sassy self  - it's called walking my talk ;-)

Good for me for loving and never questioning why.

The Opposite of Brave

My girls watched the movie "Brave" a few years ago. It's about a heroine who is "anti-Cinderalla".  A girl who can brave the armies of attack, be they physical or personal battles.  Good message indeed.  I wish that my girls grow up brave, strong and able to fight the battles ahead.

I'm brave from Monday thru Friday when I am in full time mom mode. I am very squared up and functional.  Because, I am that - square and functional.   The weekends I totally actually am a different person. I am not brave, I am one scared and insecure little chicky.

Michael and I have a fairly nice and respectful schedule with the girls.  He takes them on the weekends - for the most part.  On the weekends, I want to crumble and just fall apart.  I really do.  If you see me on the weekends, you can't see this about me, but I want to lie on the floor and cry.  Kick scream cry.  

But I don't.  But I am sad as hell boy.... sad as fucking hell.

Right now, I admit loud and clear.  I wish to be rescued.  RESCUE ME. Please and thank you.

Being a grown up without a strong hand to hold me is not what I wish for myself.

The last time I held my husbands hands I remember it for how tight I held it and for how long.  I remember my heart thumping in my palm so loud.  We were down on Jericho walking.  I may have known that this would be the last time we held hands.  It was the last time that we were connected to one another with meaning.

I have been on my own now with the girls for some time.  They are doing well I suppose and they are my reason for being.  My heart is really connected to the love that I have for them and that keeps my chest warm.  Outside of them, my heart runs my body functions but it does not allow me to feel anything else.

My brain creates whimsical images of me being colourful and bright.  My brain creates wonderful stories and I go with it - but just in my head.  Nothing from the neck down moves me.

So I came down with a bad cold / flu the past few weeks and I had the worst persistent headache ever.  I can see my part in the headache - I've certainly amped up the noggin's workload!!

I've been very troubled about having to let love go and to shed love out of my body.  The love that makes us feel complete.  The love that I love so much.

I want to raise my children right - I want to be a strong mother.  And I do not want to be alone in my bed.....

What is a girl to do?

Happy Father's Day

Father's Day 2013.

I have an amazing father.  He is one in a million. He is a good good person. His love is large, his heart is huge, his intentions are ideal.  He is a great grandfather. He is close to god.  I feel his prayers. He is a big gun of goodness.  He can dissipate bad energy.

I am very lucky to be born his daughter and I am grateful beyond measure for that lottery ticket.

A great gal that I know, she is a grandmother, she was telling me about her brand new bouncing grandson.  How all grandparents wish for a healthy grandchild.
My dad has two healthy grandchildren and one that is very challenged.  Privately it breaks his heart. But that is not my story to share. In fact, I don't know because he deals with what comes into his life with a quiet ease and with the power of prayer.  He sees Layla as a precious gift, an addition of purity, peace and goodness into his world.  He doesn't look at her and ask God why.....

I wonder, does my dad ever ask God why he had to give us a child that wasn't born well.  Does my dad ever wonder why and what is God saying?

I don't know.  He spares me from anything negative as I mother these girls of ours. He comes to my home and prays and blesses my space.  He is my dad and with that alone, my life is blessed.

My daughter Maya is a lot like her Na Na.  A Pisces. Sensitive, inward and introverted.  A watcher and a quiet wonderer.  Sabrina has my dad's quick wit.  She has his inner Dalmir qualities.   A temper and a wicked sense of humour.  Layla possesses her grandfather's angelic nature.  She is closer to god.

Everyday is Father's Day. He has two children that love him and three grandchildren that cherish him.  Funny thing, a few weeks ago I told him that I will look after him always but only on one condition:  that he wears his hearing aid - otherwise fuggedaboudit!!!

Tomorrow I will go out for brunch with him , spend time working in my yard with him, talk about my crazy stuff with him and he will listen and learn more about me.  He will help me and he will pray for me. He will love me for infinity.

Happy Father's Day Dad.  You make me a Happy Daughter Everyday.