Things that make me smile: Eleven Hints for Life

"Eleven Hints for Life"

It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return. But what is more painful is to love someone and never   find the courage to let that person know how you feel.

A sad thing in life is when you meet someone who means a lot to you, only to find out in the end that it wasnever meant to be and you just have to let go.

The best kind of friend is the kind you can sit on a porch swing with, never say a word, and then walk away feeling like it was the best conversation you've ever had. 

It's true that we don't know what we've got until we lose it, but it's also true that we don't know what we've been missing until it arrives.

It takes only a minute to get a crush on someone, an hour to like someone, and a day to love someone - but it takes a lifetime to forget someone.

Don't go for looks, they can deceive. Don't go for wealth, even that fades away.  Go for someone who makes you smile because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright.

Dream what you want to dream, go where you want to go, be what you want to be. Because you have only one life andone chance to do all the things you want to do.

Always put yourself in the other's shoes. If you feel that ithurts you, it probably hurts the person too.

A careless word may kindle strife. A cruel word may wreck a life. A timely word may level stress. But a loving word may heal and bless.

The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.

Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss, ends witha tear. When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling. Live your life so that when you die, you're the one smiling and everyone around you is crying.


Thank you Alishia Piazza for writing this.  
I hope you don't mind that I shared it.

Thinking about how Brock and I met - that's what makes me smile today

I have come to believe that there is no such thing as a “coincidence”.  We bring experiences into our lives or they happen to help us move on to the next experience.  I am not saying that when something “bad” happens that we have called that into our lives – it is a sad fact that bad things happen to good people.  However, I have been inspired lately by Brock, to put out more “good karma” than “bad” and to pay attention to what we are bringing into our lives by our words and actions.  This initial conversation with Brock was about envisioning what we want and then trusting in the Universe that it has heard and will grant all our “wishes”.   We had a wonderful evening talking about some of the events and things that we have “dreamed” into being.   For example, the mere fact that we met.

On the weekend just before our paths crossed, I wrote a mental list of all the things I was going to look for in a man.  He had to love kids and be willing to love mine.  He had to be from a family where the mom and dad loved each other so that he had a good role model on how this should look.  Preferably he would have no kids or crazy exes to complicated my life because my life was complicated enough.  I didn’t want a guy with any addictions or creepy hang-ups.  He would have to love camping and going to the lake.  He would have to be willing to treat me like a princess, because I deserved nothing less than Cinderella and the “Happily ever after”.  If he didn’t mind doing laundry that would be a bonus, but not a deal breaker. 

October 20, 1994 neither one of us was supposed to go out to the local pub for a drink.  He went to have a beer after work.  I went with a group of teachers after “meet the teacher” night.  Brock got into a cab and asked the driver to take him to any bar for a beer.  The driver chose Ernie O’s. (Coincidence or Divine intervention??)  When Brock walked in, he realized that it was cowboy night.  Every male in the establishment was wearing a cowboy hat and pointy boots.  The dance floor was filled with people two stepping to Brooks and Dunn and Hank Williams Junior.  Now, for those of you who know Brock, this should make you smile.  He was wearing his black leather jacket, ball cap and “biker” boots.  He is more the classic rock guy preferring, well almost anything, to country music.  After first thinking about leaving and going to a different bar, he decided to stay for one beer.  

Now, I had gone to the Legion for one beer.  All of my friends were going home except for one who was going to stop by Ernie O’s.  She was going to give me a ride home after she stopped in for just one quick spin on the dance floor (with a friend who was already there).

I wasn’t there for very long when I spied this very handsome guy sitting at the bar drinking a beer.  On cowboy night, I have to admit that he stuck out in his black leather jacket, boots and ball cap.  I watched him for a bit and made some quick assessments.  He was alone, no wedding ring a great smile and very handsome.  I noticed that he was showing all the usual signs of getting ready to leave including his beer was almost done and he was not ordering another one. I decided that I would go over and say hi.  What was I going to say?  I pondered this question as I made my way across the room.  By the time I got there, his back was turned and it looked like he was going to stand up.  I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around.  I gave him the only pick up line I could think of “Hi, is your name Joe?”  He looked at me and chuckled “No, why do I look like a Joe?”   The rest, as they say, is history. 

 

Brock says that he knew he that I was “the one” the moment that he looked into my eyes.  Four days later, he called his mom and told her that he met the girl he was going to marry.  Four months later, we were married in front of our family and a few friends in a small intimate wedding.  Eighteen years later we have experienced raising our three kids, welcoming one grandbaby, living in 4 different communities, the heartbreaking loss of several people we love, 17 summers of camping and going to the lake and I feel like a princess every day. 

I am really glad that I thought to put into the “Universal request” that it would be nice if “the one” would not mind doing laundry, because what a great bonus that has turned out to be!

The Tragedy of Highway 63 - When you grow up - What do you want to be?

I live at the end of a long highway in Northern Alberta. In the fall, it is lined with orange and gold leaves.  Trees for as far as the eye can see.  A lake and a house appear around a corner.  However, this same Highway 63 has been coined “The Highway to Hell”  which I take offense with.  It is the highway to my city, that I love!  However, you cannot deny that it has been a Highway filled with sorrow.   In the last 6 years, there have been 46 deaths on this highway.  A public outcry has ensued as the result of the 7 lives lost in the most recent head on collision.  A 2 year old, an 11 year old and an unborn child were amongst the victims.  I feel compelled to stand up and cry – to weep – to beg the adults to stop taking unnecessary risks – stop killing our children.

Here is the story I am going to tell at a public rally on Saturday May 5^th:

Each of you here has consciously made a choice to attend to this event.

I come to you today as a mother, grandmother, teacher and woman who has dedicated most of my adult life to the service of children.

The recent senseless deaths of the three children Faith, Benjamin and the precious child who had yet to be born– and for each and every child that has died on that highway….that is why I am here. 

Perhaps these stories will remind you of your own son or daughter, your grandchild or the kid you coach in soccer.  The stories I am going to tell are based on real stories. See if you can see the similarities to your life.  Could this be your child’s story?

We often ask our children: 

When you grow up, what would you like to be?

Do you know a child who is 17 years old? This year I will graduate.  Next year I am going to go to the University of Alberta.  I don’t know what I want to “do with my life” but I can’t wait to get out of Fort Mac. On a trip to the city to buy my grad dress I remember listening to music an singing loudly.  My mom was such a safe driver.   She followed the speed limit.  She never drove dangerously.  She did everything right.  She was the best mom. But now, I won’t graduate in June, because I will still be in rehab for the fractures in my spine.

I am a child who watched her mom being airlifted from the crash scene and later died in the hospital – she never had the chance to be my mom.

Are there any mothers out there?  Are you willing to write letters and hold your government accountable?

Do you know a child who is 14 years old?

I am very impressionable. I usually put up a fight when there is a family trip to Edmonton, because I don’t want to go, but I go because I have to.  I watch my dad weaving in and out of the cars on the highway.  I hear him swear under his breath when there is a line of vehicles behind a big semi.  That must be really frustrating.  My dad drives fast and we are in a big truck, so that’s OK.  I wish my dad could read into the future, because when I am 18 I will want to be “just like my dad”.  So on my first solo trip to Edmonton as a new driver, I tried all of the things my dad showed me.  How to weave in and out of traffic, where the cops are likely to be, how to pass 4 or 5 cars at a time. I thought I could drive like my dad, but I didn’t realize that I could not.

I am a child who could have been the one to cure cancer but when I am 18 I will be killed trying to be “just like my dad”– and never have the chance to be  -a grown man with a family of my own.

Are there any parents out there?  Are you willing to start this movement for a safer 63 by modeling safe driving habits for your kids to follow?

Do you know a child who is 10 years old?  Oh how I loved to dance.  When I twirl across the floor it feels like I can float.  I love dogs and cats and snakes are especially nice.  Some day, I am going to own a whole zoo. When I left Fort McMurray with my family heading for Edmonton, I wish I would have said goodbye to my friends.  I am going to miss my final dance recital. 

I am a child who will never know what it feels like to have my first kiss.  I will never have a first dance at my wedding. I will never be in a play on Broadway – because as the passenger on my way to a dance competition in Edmonton, I have been killed and I will never had the chance to be.

Are there any residents of Fort McMurray out there?  Are you willing to consciously drive with safety in mind so that our children will longer become statistics of those killed Highway 63?

What of a child who is six years old. Could this be the story he tells?

Oh, how I love my Grandpa. I think he might be my best friend.  I didn’t see him very much lately because he was working far away, but we talked almost every day.   My papa smells like the sweetest after shave and he has the softest hands ever.  My papa gives me chocolates before supper and takes me to the park where he swings me so high – I feel like I can fly.

I am a child who will never know what it is like to have a papa who spoils me and gives me the biggest hugs ever – because he was killed on the way to work and he never had the chance to be my papa.

Mayor Blake – Mr. Scott Mr. Allan, Premier Redford and all of the elected officials who are listening to us today.. Are you willing to keep the promises of a safer 63 you have made recently?

Perhaps you know a toddler, just two years old;

My daddy, he was the best daddy ever.

He used to smell like diesel and I used to run to the window to watch his big truck pull into the driveway.  He was gone for a few days and then he would come home.

Boy, that was so exciting.   When he would walk in the door just before bed time, I would run and hide under the blanket on the couch and he would come find me and when he did, he would lift me in the air and twirl me around.  He and my mommy would hug and kiss and he would tell me how much he missed me.

My daddy was killed going to work in Fort McMurray.  Every day I look at pictures of him on the fireplace and the wall.  My mommy cries all the time and nothing I can do or say seems to help. 

I am a child who will never know what it feels like to have my daddy cheer when I score my first goal, or drop me off for my first day of school – because he never had the chance to be.

To the media  – Are you willing to keep this story front page news, tweet, text, writing to keep all accountable so that not one of the lives lost on this highway will be forgotten in an effort that no further lives will be lost?

Could this be the story of your unborn child?

I was so excited to make my entrance into the world in just 3 more months.

My mommy used to sing me songs and rub my back as I rocked back and forth inside her belly.  My daddy’s big voice used to say “Hey baby, are you in there?” I would kick his hand away and he would hug my mommy tight. 

But now that my mommy and I have been killed, my grandma will no longer be able to tickle my toes; my grandpa won’t be able to take me fishing; I will never know the feel of my mommy’s sweet cheek or my daddy’s bristly whiskers. 

I am a child who will never know sunshine or rain – because I never had the chance to be.

If you believe, like I believe, that children are the future…then let me ask you:

What will our future be?

To each and everyone of you who are here today– Are you willing to write letters, attend rallys, respond to the polls, speak up to others who are driving like idiots and not drive like one yourself???

And Finally ladies and gentleman; what I am going to do?  What ever I can within my power – to ensure that each and every child traveling that stretch of road has the chance to be starting with speaking to you hear today.