Cam

My brother, Cam, got married a week ago today. It was a wonderful occasion. We are all very aware that Cam is incredibly blessed to have his wife, Kyla at his side. She's the full package. Smart, beautiful, kind and funny. She balances him, organizes him and has demonstrated that she will love and care for him no matter the circumstances.

However, because Cam is my only sibling, because he just got married and because I can, I want to take some space to talk about the kind of guy that Kyla's married. It's often been noted in literature that there is no one in the world that is a closer genetic match to you than your sibling. There is no one else, who when your parents are gone, will be able to remember your early lives other than your siblings. They are often your first playmate, your first adversary and your first defender. For Cam and myself this is the case.

My parents basically gave me Cam as a present on my 3rd birthday. That was the first day I met him. Born the night before, he had breathing complications that saw him rushed to the NICU before my mom even got to hold him. Obviously he survived but he scared my mom out of having anymore children. As I sat there on my mom's hospital bed looking at him, I was very puzzled as to why they were naming him after a camera. I distinctly remember thinking 'he sure doesn't look like a camera'.

Cam was my first playmate. We both had amazing imaginations and as a bonus, Cam was the more laid back of the two of us and was usually happy to go along with whatever I decided we were playing. We slid down the stairs on couch cushions, built forts, flew Barbie/G.I Joe helicopter missions, played street  and hallway hockey together. When it was windy outside we would imagine we were preparing for, and then running from a tornado. Cam happened to have blue carpet and a Captain's bed in his room which made for an instant game of fishing, sailing and being rescued from sharks when we fell overboard.

There are a few family stories that revolve around me mistreating my brother. Notably that I put him in the dryer once (though I didn't do it maliciously) and that I held him under water in the kiddie pool (I did do that maliciously). I may have also witnessed Cam taste testing three different types of soap and dog treats. However, it was Cam who all on his own, dumped a box of salt straight into his mouth thinking it was sugar. It was Cam who took the oil can and oiled EVERYTHING in dad's workshop and Cam who decided to build a new electrical appliance out of old spare parts and then attempted to plug it in to the wall. Fortunately mom's spidey-sense was tingling and she caught him just as the plug headed for the socket.

Sometimes, after I had received a severe punishment and was crying in my room, Cam would come in and hug me and try to make me laugh. I remember standing in the school yard one day in elementary school while a group of bullies hurled insults and threats at me. Cam saw me and he simply walked over ignored the bullies and taking me by the hand, led me away. That was the type of kid my little brother was.

Now I want to talk about the type of man Cam is today. There are some things I continue to share with my brother. We are both extremely avid readers. We both love dogs. We enjoy debating politics and current events. Cam's the only person who could get away with phoning me at 8 a.m. on a Saturday just so we could debate the Wildrose Party vs. the Conservative party while we're still lying in our respective beds. We enjoy hiking, soccer and hockey and we both love that we're Albertans. Cam is one of the only people who can get away with calling me by my full name.

Cam makes an effort to converse with every person in the service industry he meets. Whether they are a waitress, janitor, salesperson or cashier, at the very least he will have learned their name and how their day is going before he leaves, if not more. He takes the time to thank them with sincerity for the job that they do. Cam is the type of guy who will go out and pick up a friend in the middle of the night when they need a designated driver. He's the kind of guy who will spot you the money to pay for your meal and then tell you later not to worry about it. He's the guy who can listen to you rant about your most recent problem and he won't tell you that you're being irrational, even if you are. Cam will even walk you to your car to make sure that you get there safe. One of the best things about Cam is that when you are feeling blue he will do his best to cheer you up and make you laugh.

When I was on practicum, Cam took two of his days off just to come babysit my dog for me. After Cam got rid of his truck he went back to the yard and got permission to take off the tailgate just because I'd asked him if I could have it for a friend. Cam took me with him to pick out an engagement ring, not because he needed me but because he knew it would mean a lot to me. Just before his wedding Cam spent most of a day with me while I ran the most boring errand ever. When I walked down the aisle at his wedding and finally made eye contact with him through the tears that were welling up he smiled at me and in typical Cam-fashion said "Hey, how's it going?"

At his own wedding reception Cam was down on the ground with a server trying to pick up the shards from someone's broken glass. He danced numerous times with the four-year-old flower girl and he stopped to take a meal to our grandfather's room because he was too ill to come to the wedding. Earlier that day Cam related that he was "marrying the love of my life" and he meant it very seriously.

Cam is the type of guy who told Kyla very early on in their relationship that he doesn't believe in "taking a break". He figures that if that is the case you might as well end the relationship. He believes that if you are willing to "take a break" then you are not willing to try to work through tough times and disagreements. If you are not committed enough to stay by your partner's side when things get rough then you're not ready to be in a relationship. Pretty wise stuff eh?

That's Cam. He loves Kyla, he's committed to her and he's an over all really, really good guy, not to mention a great brother.

So, sorry girls. My brother? He's taken.

Because That's What You Do

When I was a baby girl my dad would lift me up on the hour so that I could see the cuckoo bird pop out of the cuckoo clock. I felt like I was hundreds of feet in the air when he would let me ride on his shoulders. When I was tired he would pick me up and carry me to bed. I was amazed at his strength when he would fly me around the house like an airplane or hold me upside down by the ankles. And even when he was in the middle of a conversation, if I reached out with stretched arms and said “Daddy, up?” he would hear me and pick me up without missing a beat because that’s what you do when you love your baby girl.

When I was a little girl my dad would sometimes drop me off at school in his police car -even though we lived right across the street, just because he knew it made me feel special. He told me I was smart, not just beautiful - but smart, and he told me often. He pushed me on the swings, took me to fly kites and blew bubbles with me. He sang to me and told me fairytales. He knelt beside my bed and prayed with me. I would stand on top of his feet and he would dance with me and tell me that we would dance like this on my wedding day. And he held my hand, because that’s what you do when you love your little girl. 

When I was a teenage girl my dad would read everything I wrote and edit it for me and then he would read it again, even if I was cramming an eight page essay at midnight. He came to listen to me sing, or play or practice or speak and always told me that he was proud of me. He told me I was beautiful, not just smart - but beautiful when I felt like the ugliest girl at school. And he held me while I cried over the injustices of youth, because that’s what you do when you love your teenage girl.

When I was a young woman, just starting out, my dad would take my car when I wasn’t watching and put gas in it, just because. He would discuss politics, philosophy, religion and current events into the wee hours of the morning with me, often playing devil’s advocate because he knew it challenged me and made me think. He showered my mother with an abundance of love, respect and admiration, demonstrating to me how a man should treat his wife. He encouraged me to take risks, try new things and to see the world. And he offered me his arm to take when walking, because that’s what you do when you love and honour the young lady that is your daughter. 

When I, as a woman, am busy with the day-to-day things of life, my dad calls me to talk, just because. He listens to my failures and successes and tells me that “everything will work out, it always does.” He loves my dog as much as I do and he makes me wheat-free cupcakes as a surprise. He tells me I’m smart and beautiful. He tries to impart the wisdom of financial planning and he comes by my house to fix, build or plant things -often before I even know it needs to be done. He blows bubbles with me as the sun goes down and we talk about the deeper things like faith, love and the meaning of life. And, whenever we part ways, whether on the phone or in person, our last words are always “I love you” because that’s what you do when you love your grown daughter.

When I am. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .because that’s what you do when you love your daughter.

For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened. Of what man is there of you, whom if his son ask for bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?  -Matthew 7:8-11

My Mom's Story: Part VII - Extraordinary Women

What does it mean to live an extraordinary life? I highly doubt that my mother thinks that she is leading an extraordinary life - some of you reading may agree with her too. After all, you’ve read about how she had a regular childhood with regular childhood trials, met her husband and married him, had two children to make a perfect nuclear family, was a stay-at-home mom who later went back to work, and that she raised me - as you would expect a good mother to do. You probably think that it’s nice that I’ve chosen to write about my appreciation for my mom, that she sounds like a pretty awesome person, but that nothing she’s done is much different from what your own mother has done, or what you have done, or what your wife has done, or your best friend or your aunt or sister.

I hope you did think that at some point. Because you are right.

My mom has done in her life what many, many women do. But I want you to think about the attitude that these life circumstances were undertaken with. What makes my mom’s story extraordinary to me is how she has viewed her life, respected it and faced every day with determination and a positive attitude. How kindly she treats everyone, how much she loves my dad just the way he is, and how she supports my brother and I unfailingly. I truly do hope you can relate to this and I think you can. I scan facebook on a regular basis just like every other young adult caught in the social networking snare and I know that I have friends who can relate to my mother and that they too are facing their lives with extraordinary attitudes that in turn enrich the lives of those close to them.

I know I have friends and family who were teased in school, so much so that it is burned into their memories. Yet they still have learned to love themselves and trust others.

I know women who are living real-life love stories - high school sweethearts that are finally getting married, women who were making plans to travel and were not even thinking about a relationship when their love story hit them, couples that entered marriage based on fondness, faith and trust in God, women who spent years alone before finding someone to spend their life with.

I have a lot of friends who profess their love for their children practically every other day on facebook. Some of these friends were not expecting these additions to their lives and some have waited for a very long time to welcome them but all would give anything just to keep their daughters and sons safe and happy.

And how many of you have made sacrifices for careers or for your husbands? I have friends whose husbands had to work as medics up north for months at a time, or who were on 48 hour shift schedules at stations far removed from home, meaning they only saw each other a few days out of the week. I have a friend who married the man she loved but had to move to the U.S, leaving her entire family to be with him. I have friends with wonderful careers but who know and accept that they may have to change or alter these careers when they are eventually transferred with their RCMP husbands.

What about the courage it takes to re-enter the workforce when you’ve been away from it for years? I know nurses, teachers, paramedics, police and administrators who have all picked up the books again in preparation to return to the careers they put on hold and even more women who are starting from scratch with resumes, job training and interviews in the hopes of further developing themselves and their finances.

So you see, chances are that your life is extraordinary - you just don’t know it, probably because no one has told you yet. You can be sure though, that those women I mentioned above - I think you guys are extraordinary and I’m so blessed to have you as friends - and for inspiration!

Sure, these are all life events that many people undergo in their lives. But not all people do it well. Not all people get through tough times, not everyone stays committed to their marriage. Some people leave their children or worse, abuse them. Some people’s habits keep them from performing in the workforce, some people never seek to improve themselves or their life circumstances. These are not judgements, they’re facts.

We are born to be women, but we choose what kind of women we want to be. My mom chooses how to handle life circumstances, she chooses what kind of wife she wants to be, she chose how to raise my brother and I and she chose how she wanted to further develop herself and her career. This is especially extraordinary to me because these choices have influenced my own life - and it’s a wonderful life because of my Mom.

So, yes, maybe today you don’t think your life is extraordinary. Maybe you have regrets, maybe the kids are being brats today, maybe your marriage has seen better times or maybe you have no idea what you want to do with your life. When I have doubts, my mom says something along the lines of “hang in there, continue to make the best decisions you can and I love you.”

I figure she knows what she’s talking about.

Happy 50th Birthday Mom.

My Mom's Story: Part II - "As Long as We Both Shall Live"

My mother is one of those people lucky enough to be living a real-life love story. I am not being dramatic in the slightest when I say this. Anyone who has spent even a small amount of time with my parents as a couple knows that it’s true. I’ve learned a lot about relationships and marriage from my parents. People have often told me that my parent’s relationship is not the norm. I can’t really speak to that. I can say however, that I’ve decided that my mom’s fairytale marriage is probably about 10 percent Disney magic and 90 per cent hard work, mutual effort and commitment. If you hadn’t guessed from the last post, that slightly rebellious young man was my dad, Sandy. Let’s keep in mind that Mom was only 15 years old which means that as it stands today, my mom has spent more of her life together with my dad than she has apart from him. However, I also want to be clear before I continue that my mother is not simply the sum of her beautiful marriage but that it is a large part of her life and one of the greatest gifts she has given me as a mother. It’s the most natural way to continue this story.


The “magic” part began on January 22, 1977. My parents agree wholeheartedly that this day marked their first date together. However, they also wholeheartedly disagree on what they did. My dad says that they went to a party at his friend’s house. My mom always counters that her parents would never have allowed her to go to a party. She remembers that they went to a movie. This is always a fun conversation to listen to. Sometimes I think that surely one of them knows that the other is right but keeps up the premise just because it’s entertaining. Regardless of what they did their first date it was a success because it was the first of many. My mom once told me that they hadn’t been dating long when she told her mother that she thought he was “the one”. My grandma was skeptical of course - though it didn’t take long for her to accept Sandy as a permanent fixture. My mom has also said that she probably would have married him as a teenager if her parents hadn’t strongly preferred a longer courting period. There were other rules that they were held to while dating.

Curfew. If my dad brought my mom home late she would find all the doors to the house locked. They recall her dad coming to the door in his underwear and glaring at Sandy before letting his daughter in.

The “Sunday Rules”. On Sundays you went to church with your family. Then you could have dinner with one family or the other. You were not allowed to play cards, go to the movies or to parties or bowling on Sundays.

Limited PDA (public displays of affection). You weren’t supposed to hug or kiss or have hands placed on knees etc. Maybe you could put your arm around their shoulders and once in awhile you could hold hands. . .but probably not on Sundays.

My dad believes that my mom made him a better man from the start. She believed in him and supported him and being madly in love has always been a motivator. My dad’s dream was to be an RCMP officer and it was during this time with my mom that he really began making changes to move his life into that career path. My mom knew that she wanted to marry and raise children with the love of her life. After nearly six years of growing together as young adults, weathering their first trials, separations for work and other life events they committed their lives to each other in holy matrimony for “better or worse, rich or poor and in sickness and in health” on September 18, 1982. This promise requires not only love but also maintenance and patience. My parents have been making it look easy for almost 30 years.

A few of the many things I’ve learned about marriage from my Mom

It’s an equal partnership: Marriage isn’t just some all encompassing term for being with your “soulmate” or “best friend” or other goopey-gushiness. It’s not a security blanket or a financial umbrella. It’s not a wedding and it’s certainly not a baby. It’s not meant to always be sunshine, rainbows and pink bunnies. It is a binding partnership with a foundation of love. A partner is defined as someone who takes part in an undertaking with another with shared risks and profits. For my mom this means that in all things she must always work together with my dad. They need to work toward the same goals and they need to share the workload along the way while still playing to each others strengths and weaknesses. There always needs to be room for compromise, changes in the plan and patience and understanding. They succeed together and they fail together. They celebrate each other’s victories and they comfort each other during trials. In everything the effort put forward is equal and the love remains mutual. Love is most definitely the foundation of a good marriage but it’s not necessarily what makes it grow.

Respect: As a kid I remember telling school mates that my parents didn’t fight. Those kids used to look at me like I was completely naive and told me that my parents had to fight, they probably just didn’t do it in front of me. In reality, my parents really didn’t fight, probably because my mom believes in tackling problems head on and not stewing and bottling up emotion. Of course they’ve had disagreements and likely they’ve even had some heated discussions though those discussions never did fall on my ears. In all disagreements though my parents have retained a high level of respect for each other. Now, before I continue on what I know could be interpreted as a debatable topic I would say that I have no intention of judging anyone’s marriage or relationship. Your approach to your marriage is your own and what works for some couples does not work for others. I am only reflecting on what I’ve observed. My parents do not yell at each other, they don’t raise their voices even and they certainly never raise a hand to each other. It’s just not necessary. They believe that when you love someone you want to hear them out, you want to try and understand their point of view and you want to find a solution that suits you both. You think before you talk to avoid saying something you’ll regret later. This might mean walking away and agreeing to talk later but it never means refusing to talk or bottling up emotions. It means respecting your partner enough that your problems with each other are not water cooler topics at work. My mother will never “bad talk” my father in front of anyone. She will never call him by any derogatory names or adjectives and she will never seek to embarrass him in front of peers. It doesn’t matter how mad or frustrated she is. Those type of actions are anti-productive and are ideally not how you should really treat anyone, much less someone you love.

The love is in the little things: One of my favourite memories about my parents is watching them make dinner together. A song would come on like “Lady in Red”. First my parents would start singing it and by the end of it they would be slow-dancing together around the kitchen floor. I knew my parents really really loved each other because of the little things they did for each other. Whether it was timing supper around a hockey game to make sure dad wouldn’t miss anything to picking up a new kitchen gadget or Scottish knickknack just because she knew he would like it, my mom has taught me that actions speak just as loudly or louder than words. Showing that you care is part of the upkeep of a happy marriage. In true “Prince Charming” form my dad loves spoiling my mom. She’s had a marriage filled with bouquets of flowers, “just because” gifts and special date nights.

These are only three things I’ve learned from my mom’s marriage. I know that they work because my parents marriage is quite seriously one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. She’s an amazing wife and partner to my dad and I can only hope that I’ve learned enough to contribute similarly to my own marriage if I’m so blessed at some point.

As I stated at the beginning of this post, my mother is not simply the sum of her awesome marriage. She knows about sacrifice, about making the best of all situations, about being a career woman and most notably to myself, about mothering.

To be continued. . .