Stephanie, The Girly-Girl

I have been a total girl lately. I know, that's a weird thing for me to say considering that I am, in fact, a girl. But I was always the guy's girl;  my favourite pass times were drinking beer, watching sports, playing outside, and hanging out with my guy friends/brothers while doing and talking about guy things. Now, I still love beer and sports and playing outside, but I have become a much more feminine version of myself in the past year or so. 

I think for this to make any sense, I need to start from the beginning which is a long time ago. I grew up with four amazing brothers who are the light of my life. They are so fun and different from each other and we have so many amazing memories. Most of my favourite memories are with them (although, not to leave out my little sister, who is equally as amazing). The oldest of the bunch and I would do absolutely everything together when we were younger. Instead of barbies, I played Hot Wheels, and instead of makeup I wore dirt proudly on my body when we rough housed on the playground. We were best friends. 

My other brothers quickly joined the pack and we were inseparable. As we got older, we all became great friends and allies. We moved from playgrounds to bikes, and biked all weekend and every evening. During our long winters, we would snow suit up (for all you HIMYM fans) every night, whether homework was done or not, and make tracks in the snow that we could toboggan around. I was friends with my brother's friends, and the additional friends that I made were almost all male, because that's what I was used to. 

I only knew how to be around boys. I was the friend that usually had a crush on at least one of my guy friends, but we were just friends nonetheless. Then I moved out when I was 16. I moved because my father abused me and I couldn't take it anymore, and when I left I had this incredible void in me, this hunger for healthy male attention. Really, I always hungered after that, which is why I always had a crush on someone. I wanted so badly to be loved and accepted for who I was, and not taken advantage of and abused by someone in a trust position in my life. But as the song goes, I was looking for love in all the wrong places.

I dated this guy in high school who cared for me deeply, but I never completely trusted him. I was afraid of being criticized by him or his family so much so that I didn't even feel comfortable eating at his house in case I was doing it wrong. I felt like I had to prove myself to him, just like I was always trying to prove myself to the man I once called dad. I would lie to him, lies that he has no clue I told, because I thought that I had to for him to be interested in me, and I craved his attention more than anything else in the world. I thought that I loved him and he temporarily, although incompletely, filled the aching hole in my heart. 

Then we broke up. The end of the relationship consumed me. I was 16, almost 17, and the only consistency that I had in my life since I moved away from home was gone. I was at a loss and had no idea how to handle these adult emotions since I was still just a child. I would go to school each day, depressed, telling and retelling my friends stories and conversations and imaginary scenarios that I had prepared myself for (thanks, Bee and C, for always listening). My life was quite literally a soap opera. You could base a cheesy television show on those few years years of my life and probably have a few good seasons worth of material. Every conversation, every thought, every song I wrote, everything in my life was a cry for that mediocre at best love to return. 

I eventually got over him, but as I tried to leave him behind I continued to seek my worth in men. I went to grad with a guy that broke my heart the day after. I dated a guy shortly after high school who was exciting and interesting, but we were together a little over a month. By this time, I was 18 and really into the bar scene, so each weekend I was on the hunt for Mr. Right and only ever found Mr. Not-Ready-To-Commit, Mr. I-Have-A-Girlfriend, or Mr. I-Only-Want-To-Sleep-With-You. I felt hopeless.

In the meantime, the walls that barricaded my heart only became thicker and taller. I tried to be more relatable, more of a guy's girl again. I was tough, and tough to get to know. I was independent and head strong and wrote off men almost altogether. Shortly after I was 18, I started counselling. If you have been keeping up with my blog, I have raved about the process  before on more than one occasion. It was hard, the hardest thing I might ever have to do, but worth it. Jesus showed me how much He loves me, and came in and completely filled that void in me, wrapping me up in His perfect love and mercy. And then I met a man.

My husband is the most patient person that I know. If you were to ask, he would tell you that I was difficult. I didn't make him feel needed because I could always do everything myself. I didn't want to change for him or anyone. I hated ever having to rely on someone else. But he stuck it out, and stayed with me and supported me as I began to realize what my female heart needs. I am not a man. I am not wired up to be tough. My heart leads me, and always has led me, but I refused it any air time. I wouldn't cry, I would lash out in anger, I was impossible. But as my heart changed slowly with each counselling session, each dark and dirty secret revealed, I learned who I really was.

Yes, I am strong and independent, and I like beer, sports, and playing outside, but I am a woman, created to yearn for the love and acceptance of a man. And I can rest in that now. God has blessed me beyond measure with the husband he has given me. For the first time I am truly comfortable in the role that I was made for. And I think that there is evidence of that even in the small things in my life.

Girly lipstick

For my birthday, I asked for a makeup pallet that I really wanted. My husband got it for me, and now I often try out one or two looks a day just because I want to look my absolute best for my man. I was never like that before. I didn't care so much about how I looked or presented myself, and now like a girly-girl, I put in effort. I love doing that for him. And I love letting him take care of me. When I cry, he is there. When I am hurt he listens, and when I am hurt by him, he takes responsibility. He arrived at the perfect time, and as my heart softened he was always there to take up the slack. 

That's just one small example, and maybe it doesn't really say or mean a whole lot to you. But truly, I have changed. Everything is so different now. I love just being able to be a girl; a beautiful, comfortable, emotional, heart led girl.

-SP

Marriage Part 1: The Root

One day at work not long ago, a very cynical co-worker of mine was saying that there is no such thing as being happily married, as I had heard many times before from other jaded husbands who outwardly regret the commitment they have promised themselves to. He basically said that one can be contentedly settled, but no one truly finds the fuel to their heart flame and is really madly in love after years of marriage. He had this air about him, as if to say "you just wait, kiddo, you'll soon know". But I don't care what people say, and I don't care how much longer they have been married than I, we are truly an exception to the rule.

But it scares me to think that my husband and/or I may wake up one day and realize that he was right. We are no different than the other bitter old couples. We know each other through and through, there is no longer a desire or a need to explore each other, to learn about each other, to love each other with enthusiasm. That would be one of my worst nightmares becoming reality. 

I was created to be married, I am convinced of it. When I was around seven years old, my brother and I would go over to the friend's house across the street from my aunt's house and play. I always wanted to have a pretend wedding. I wanted to be a bride, and to live happily ever after with the best man in the land. Later, in grade five, I was 'boyfriend-girlfriend' with this guy in my class, Ryan Monaghan. He would 'date' me, which really meant that during art class we would sit together, and then 'break up' with me and 'date' my best friend. He kept going back and forth and I was so heart broken because the whole time I just wanted for him to love and marry me. He was not my first crush, though. My first crush, Jason D. (I can't remember how to spell his last name) had me so hooked and he didn't even know it. I wrote him a song while doing flyers with my best friend (the same best friend who kept getting in the way of Ryan and I, who I'm positive is gay now) and mailed it to him, hand written on my best stationary with my favourite perfume gracing the pages. He lived close to home so I went to his house just to be near him. I was his dad's favourite Sunday School student, and he joked about me going on a picnic with his family. I remember so clearly in my mind the quick talks I would have with Jason in passing. I was obsessed with him, and with the idea of being with him forever. The high school sweetheart thing was a most appealing idea for me, and I wanted so badly to find that person as quickly as possible.

Obviously, it never worked between Jason and I, and later in life, in grade eleven, I met this guy who gave me the attention that I yearned for. I moved out shortly after meeting him because my home life was extremely unhealthy, and we were free to be together. He was older, seemed established, goal oriented, and mature. I was young, spirited, and insecure and found it quite easy to fall for him, much like I had fallen for all the cute boys in the past. We dated for a year and at one time I sat with my mom, and when she asked I told her "yes, I want to marry him. He is the one". He wasn't.

My dating life has been overcome with disappointment after disappointment. I would meet someone, fall for him so quickly, fling my abnormally fragile heart and soul in his general direction hoping with any part of me that was left that he would catch it, that he would be the one, and he wasn't. Until I met my husband.

He really was my knight. He wanted the same things as I did, he is ambitious and loving and, best of all, when I slightly more cautiously lobbed my heart and soul towards him, he caught it. He held onto it like it were his most prized possession. He covered the bruises, nurtured the open wounds, and told me that no one would toss it away anymore, because he was here and he was here to stay. He has kept his promise. We have been together for over three years now, married for one, and he still sends me a love message every single morning. He still gets me a glass of water every night for my nightstand. He still opens the car door for me every time we are driving somewhere together. He still loves me with the same passion and consistency that he did when we first met, only now the love is more deeply rooted, more stable, more true and real.

Love

I recently congratulated a friend's wife as she is having a baby. But I surprised even myself at what I said. Instead of the traditional "congratulations, know what the sex is, blah blah blah" I said to her "praying for you both, that your marriage will be strengthened in this time, that it will be a firm foundation on which to have a family, and that you both will always put each other first". Perhaps that is where the disconnect is. Perhaps it's not in falling out of love or knowing each other too well, it's in not putting each other first twenty some-odd years later as you did just months or a few years into your commitment. God bless my marriage, that though we will struggle with making each other first priority over everyone else, we will not forget that a healthy house starts at the root; at us. 

-SP

Surprise!

Today is my birthday. I'm not a huge fan of birthdays, particularly my own, as I spoke about in a previous blog. I don't know what it is. My husband knows about my issues, we talk about them every year. He wants to do something big and fun for my birthday, and I would just like something small, just him and I and maybe one or two close friends or couples. I throw together some sort of small restaurant get together the day before and hope that maybe a few people can show up. People always do, my friends are amazing that way, but most of them would want to make a bigger deal out of my birthday than I would, so I won't let them. Even this year, I had a couple of specific rules for my husband; no family, only close friends, and nothing huge. I would have even been happy with just a nice expensive dinner, just the two of us.

He broke the rules slightly and planned a surprise party for me. It was so fun! My husband and I spent the whole day together on Saturday, and then that night we got all dressed up and had a nice dinner at a place down the road. He pretended he wasn't feeling well, so we decided to call it a night early and picked up a bottle of sparkling wine with the intention of having a nice romantic bath together. We get home, I unlock and open the door, and my best of friends (minus one or two who don't live here) were popping out of the dark corners of the room yelling "surprise!" I felt so loved.

Surprise! Some of the greatest lady friends!

They promptly placed a crown on my head and a necklace around my neck and started taking pictures. I looked around the room and saw banners and balloons that my best friend and her husband had put up while we were having dinner. My husband began to explain the details of the surprise and how he pulled it off. More friends arrived throughout the evening. We played cards (dutch blitz, my favourite) drank wine, ate Doritos, talked, listened to music and just spent time together. Those are the kinds of nights that I enjoy the most, the ones with little to no agenda where you can just talk and be together. I couldn't have asked for a better celebration.

I was so humbled. That all of these wonderful people would take time out of their busy weekend for me made me feel so valued. I had never felt so loved by my friends. The last of the party animals left around one in the morning. I went to sleep with a smile on my face. I'll never forget that night.

-SP

Deeper Daily

I woke up this morning to discomfort. I showered while my insides ached and began my day. I had felt this way before on more than one occasion, and because of that have a standing prescription at the pharmacy for the antibiotic that cures all that ails me, but I had to get to work. Luckily, my husband has the day off. I told him my predicament, and said that I would wait a bit longer to make sure that I was correct about the cause of my symptoms, and would call him later if I needed him to pick up the drugs for me.

I got to work and by that time knew that I was right. I needed the medication to avoid a more severe pain, so I called the pharmacy and told them my husband would be there within the hour to pick up my prescription. I then called my husband who was lounging in bed. He hasn't been feeling the greatest for the past day or so, so he was quite happy to have a slow morning at home with no real errands or commitments. Unfortunately, I very inopportunely changed his plans.

We've all been there before; laying in bed one minute, scrambling to find day old clothing the next. He went from relaxing and recovering in bed, and preparing for some session work with a friend, to scrambling to get out the door as fast as possible, make the hour round trip to me and back, only to go to our friend's house right away without even so much as a shower, and so he was very understandably frustrated. I felt bad, because if it weren't for me he would have had some good, quality time to himself. He quickly reassured me that it's not my fault, and that it's just the situation that he finds frustrating.

Everyone handles frustration and stress differently. My husband handles it graciously; he can be frustrated or angry, but he rarely loses control of his temper, and he is quick to ensure that the blame isn't being placed on people who have no responsibility. I am almost the complete opposite. I get frustrated quickly and am quick to blame, slow to reason. Why is that? I see the same traits in my parents. They are quick to be hot tempered and try to manipulate situations to their benefit. Am I just a product of how I was raised in that regard?

Best day ever

I am not blaming my parents for my mistakes. I know that I am an intelligent adult with ability to choose to react differently. And a lot of the time, I do. I am not an expert at it, but I try. I am just amazed at how different people are. My husband is one way, similar to his family, and I am another, similar to mine.

I think that we are lucky to have each other. The more that we discover about ourselves, the more we teach one another. I am fortunate to have a husband that teaches me a better way of handling stress and frustration. Whether he knows it or not, I learned a lot from him today. He was real and honest about being upset, but he wasn't a jerk to me or anyone else because he was upset. Every single day that I'm with him, I discover new reasons to fall in love with him all over again, and today this was my reason.

-SP

The Single Life

My husband is away for the majority of this week. I was used to him being away this summer; he was gone almost very weekend and any spare time was spent on vacation, or visiting with family/friends that were in town. But now it is fall. My siblings and many of my friends are in school or working full-time. I am tired from my usually long days at work, walking in the door between 5:30 and 6, and I am not used to the quiet. It's like I am having to re-learn how to be single for this short time. What did I do? How did I fill my alone time? Was I always this anxious when I didn't have someone to keep me company?

Honestly, I don't know. My life has been so wrapped up in my husband since I met him. I met him in July of 2007 at a CD release party. We met once and I thought about him for some time after, but neither of us made a move. Then I met him again a month later at another show he was playing, briefly complimented his guitar savvy, and then didn't see him until late October. Late October was the ticket. We had time for an actual conversation, and there was an immediate attraction. I was actually seeing someone else at the time, but not seriously, and that quickly ended when my husband walked in. He had me from the beginning.

I was like a little girl when she has her first crush. All I wanted to do was talk to him. I would wait with such anticipation for his text messages, and then we moved to phone conversations. We talked every night, and at the time he was in Edmonton a lot even though he lived in Calgary. So we made plans for dinner (we cooked together) and then made plans for a second date. In early November, he told me that he had feelings for me and I told him the same. By January we were saying 'I love you', and we both knew that we would be married one day. The following November we were engaged. It was the most exciting relationship I had ever been in! For the past (almost) four years, he has been my whole life, my best friend, my confidant. And now, even though it is only for a short time, he is gone.

I am finding it exceptionally difficult to be away from him as we get closer and more in tune with each other. But I support him and love him and know that this is his dream, this is his calling. I never want to stand in the way of that, especially knowing that he would never ever stand in the way of my dreams. And don't get me wrong, I'm not a basket case or slipping into a depression or something. It's just hard to be away from him.

Us and Ciana!

But at the same time, being away from each other for extended periods is something that we will need to learn. I want to go to school in Boston (Berklee, here I come!) and my husband would stay in Calgary and work and do music. We will be apart for a month (or more) at a time. So what was I like when I didn't have constant companionship? How did I occupy my time? Was I always this anxious?

It's weird to have to re-learn independence. I have always been an independent person, but I acknowledge that I need my husband. I need his strength, I need his love, I need his support, I need his time, I need his attention, I need him. I lack the life skills to live without that constant companionship I crave. So how do I learn to do without? With time, I suppose. I hope.

-SP

The Definition Of Success

My husband turned 25 on Saturday. For the past month or so, I would make make mention of how he is getting old, and that he will be a quarter century old soon. Most of the time he laughed, sometimes he got a little bit nostalgic, but often he didn't seem to think about the comment.


We went out to one of our favourite pubs for dinner on Friday night and awaited some of our friends that would join us for drinks later. We sat, ate, talked about our days, watched the hockey and football games that were on, and then he asked me."Do you think I have something to show myself, for my life?" What a great question.


I quickly answered "of course you do" without really thinking through my response. We sat in silence (and by silence, I mean we didn't speak, but the bar was loud enough for it to not be an uncomfortable silence). Then I said what I really meant to say. "I think it's all about how you define success. If success to you is wealth and a career, than no. But if it is happiness, and you are truly as happy as you say you are, then you have everything."

My hubby and I

I think that is the truth. By the world's definition of success, we may have nothing. Neither of us are settled into our careers. I am getting ready to go to school, so really, at almost 22 years old I have barely started. We don't own a home, we are in debt, we don't have kids, and we share a vehicle. By all accounts, we haven't reached this elusive success that we see a lot of people striving for. But I would never say that we, or our friends who are in similar situations, are unsuccessful. My husband and I are happy, healthy, stable, and growing. We love each other more deeply daily, we are learning, we are not above reproach with each other or our friends. We have amazing friendships and support of our families. We are full! 


To me, that is far better. To be full is far greater. All the rest will come later, in due time, when it is right. How do you define success?


-SP

Monster Under The Bed

My husband woke up this morning, worried and visibly shaken. He rolled over in bed after the first alarm, held onto me tightly, his forehead pressing into my back, and said that he had a bad dream. I could tell that this one really hit home.

I asked him what it was about, and he shrugged his shoulder. He didn't want to talk about it, and I wasn't about to push him to tell me. I just let him move closer into me, and tried to be the calm, safe space that I knew he needed. He would tell me eventually, when he was ready to. A few minutes later, all he said was "just please don't ever divorce me". I promised that I was committed forever, and he relaxed.

We got up and started our days. I took a shower, he made lunch, and just before he was ready to leave for work I asked him what his dream was about. He told me that in his dream, we had just bought our first house together. Our best friends, who also happen to be married, were over, and I very calmly told my husband that I was done, and that getting married was a mistake. All my things were already in boxes, so I was ready to go at any time. Our friend, I'll call him Jack, was nervous and uncomfortable and on my husband's side, trying to help him get me to stay. Our friend's wife, we'll call her Jill, was nonchalant and indifferent, and told me to just go if I wanted to. If it was right for me, then it had to be right.

I don't know how his dream ended, but I do know that I would wake up disturbed and afraid too. My imagination has the ability to scare me when I don't have control of it. And even when I do, there have been times when I have let it get carried away. This is a terribly unlikely scenario. First, we would never discuss the serious matters of our marriage in the presence of other people, even our best of friends. Second, Jack and Jill wouldn't sit idly by. They know us better than most people and we are in committed accountability relationships with each other. Jill would never encourage me to just leave. She loves me, and she loves my husband. That just wouldn't happen. And lastly, marriage is a life thing. I only want to do it once, and I am so happy with who I chose. There isn't anyone out there who could love me better than he does. He is truly wonderful.

Napping with Scrappy

So why do we dream such terrible things? Is it based in a real fear? Maybe something that we aren't aware of? Is my husband, whom I love with my whole heart, and whom I tell that to every single day really afraid that I would leave him? I sure hope not. His rational, awake mind would never conjure such a scenario, so is this all just irrational, or is there something deeper? I don't know...I wish I had all the answers. I think back to my first nightmare. It was something that scared me for years. I jumped on and off my bed in the dark because I was so scared of what was underneath. Is this the adult version of the monster under the bed? I prefer the childhood ones.

-SP

The Technological Age

Every morning I wake up to my alarm on my cell phone. I sleepily roll over, hit the snooze button and lay half asleep in bed for the next ten minutes before the alarm interrupts my rest again. Then I get on my blackberry, make sure I haven't missed any phone calls or text messages overnight, then check my facebook to see what my night owl friends were up to while I was dreaming. By this time, my husband has usually left for the house, and I get in the shower and start getting ready for work.

When I get out and am almost ready to go, I pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit down in front of my laptop. I check my emails, as it is likely that I would have gotten one or two, update my facebook status if I am feeling so inspired, grab my phone and get going to work. My husband has usually by now sent me my morning text message telling me how much he loves me (he says he never wants me to a go a minute thinking otherwise, and he does an amazing job of showing me in small ways like this). I get in the car, call my husband on my way to work to leave him a similar message, and then focus on getting to work in a timely fashion.

I arrive to work a couple minutes early, get logged into my computer and answer any emails I may have gotten outside of work hours. I check my bank accounts to make sure there hasn't been any strange activity and monitor bills going out and money coming in and our purchases. I read some articles on Digg.com if I have time, and if I don't I get logged into whatever program I need to get my work done and get my day started.

I spend the next eight hours doing various types of data entry, from meeting minutes to entering invoices. I scan to email, make photocopies, send a few faxes, enter invoices, update spreadsheets and send emails, and I blog in my breaks and spare time. By the time five o'clock hits, I am sick of sitting in one place and looking at the same screens for hours at a time. I need a break.

I get in my car and commence the commute home. It usually takes about fourty-five minutes in bad traffic, so I'm waltzing in at just before six in the evening. I get dinner on the table, check on laundry, and then plop myself on the couch, again in front of the laptop. I add pictures to my blogs, check how many people are reading, send out facebook updates, comment on photos and wall posts, and then watch a couple episodes of the television show my husband and I are working on.

I might go work out, but it's more likely that I will pop in a CD and do some vocal warm ups. I'll go run some errands, wait for my husband to get home, at which time we watch TV together and snuggle up on the couch. We might play some card games, have a glass of wine, jam in the living room or do some recording, but our evenings at home aren't very eventful. They are honestly few and far between as our lives have been extraordinarily busy (we're certainly don't have opportunities to sit and watch TV every night). But when we do have down time, we choose to spend our time together doing something that we don't need to engage each other for.

We'll do our final email/facebook checks, and I'll check my blog again or edit a new post, and then we'll go to bed at which time we might tag team a game on my husband's iPhone for twenty minutes or so before checking that our alarms are set and turning out the light. But for the past few days we have had one huge gaping hole in our lives...our laptop is in for service. Our lifeline is gone. No more morning email checks, no blogging from the comfort of my couch, no TV (we don't currently have cable), no facebook, no music, nothing.

We finally had a day off together. We wanted to go downtown and window shop, but upon arriving we found that most stores and restaurants are closed on Sundays, except for those in the mall that we had already explored completely before. We went out for lunch, and then went home and had an exceptionally difficult time just being together, without using our phones and without the internet to occupy ourselves when we got bored or the silence was too much to handle. It was eye opening.

My husband is my entire world. I love him with my whole heart, and there is never a moment that either of us let the other forget that. He is my absolute best friend. So why was it so hard to just spend a day with my best friend? I am the first to complain when life gets in the way and we go three or four evenings without spending real, quality time together, and I finally got that opportunity and had him all to myself and the whole time I was wondering when we would get our laptop back. This seems completely backwards to me.

My husband, myself, and his defective phone

I feel that we, as a society, in this technological age, have become much too dependant on technology. It shouldn't be what drives us. We shouldn't need all of this in order to have a relationship with other people. Quality time shouldn't be in front of a TV screen. I am a bad example of letting fancy gadgets and the internet get in the way of spending actual time. I need to stop wasting my hours on facebook, and spend them doing things. I need to go for more walks, read the newspaper that is at the cafe instead of bringing my laptop or resorting to my blackberry. I need to play more sports, do more exercise, go discover places in this new home city of mine that I have never been. I need to live my life, and not just be another IP address.

The question is...how? All I have ever known is this. How do I leave all these vices that mask themselves as needs and really, truly, freely just be? How would you do it?

What would you do if you were me?

-SP

The End - Part 2

I love weddings! I think that they are one of the most beautiful things that we get to witness and be part of. Often, as I sit waiting for the grand entrance of the bride, I contemplate my own wedding, and all the events leading up to and during that day. What was I thinking? What was I doing? What was I feeling?

In order to make sense, I must start from the beginning. My husband proposed to me in November of 2008. I knew it was coming. We were always a sure thing. The excitement of the engagement set in, and we started planning; planning the engagement dinners in our respective home cities with our families, and planning the wedding.

We learned a lot about each other in that period of our relationship. I am a superb organizer, but I hate planning, and the more things that piled onto my shoulders, the more stressed I got. I don't handle stress in my personal life very well, but my husband was a rock. He kept me grounded and calm as best he could, and I became more and more thankful for him every day. He was so consistent, and I was so all over the map. Opposites really do attract.

As we got closer to the day, the stress began to build even more. We had some major family issues that we were sifting through, along with financial woes and so many things that needed to get finished all at once. Our relationship was being challenged and each day we pulled through, although we were tired and desperate for a break. And then the day came.

The day went by so quickly as a whole, but leading up to walking down the aisle, the minutes passed by at a sluggish pace. I awoke the morning of our wedding refreshed and rested, even though I had gotten but a few hours of sleep at best. I met my bridesmaids at the salon where we all got our hair done, anticipation continuing to build, and excitement reaching a high. We got into our limo and continued on to the church where we would get our makeup done and get into our dresses.

I sat in the chair, peaking out the windows on the top floor at guests who were arriving early. My bridesmaids got into their dresses, eagerly waiting the time when they would help me get into mine. My mom arrived, and with the photographer there to catch every moment, I put on my dress and watched in the mirror as it was being tied up.

At the top of the stairs, waiting

I felt beautiful. I knew I was ready. I had spent ten months and all my energy preparing for this moment. Then the emotion hit me. I was cool as a cucumber until my brothers arrived, ready to walk me down the aisle to my future. Then I was contemplative and quiet...not nervous or anxious, just quiet. My spirit was humbled by this amazing ceremony I was about to partake in.

I stood at the top of the stairs, waiting for the bridal party to enter. You could feel every person's excitement. It was this palpable energy emanating from the sanctuary. And then it was my turn. My brothers situated themselves up the aisle, ready for me to come in and give them each a kiss on the cheek and tearful hug. It was time. Finally.

My mortality has been the nagging thought at the back of my head. If I am not invincible like I once thought I was, then that must also mean that the people I love the most are also inching their way to the ends of their lives. But what if we rethought death? What if it wasn't the end, but it truly was the beginning? I know, how cliche of me to say that. But seriously, what if it was the beginning of the best part of our lives, and all the life that we live today is the build up to that moment?

There is a large flaw in this metaphor. No one knows when they are going to die, as they do know when they will get married. Some know when they are getting close, like in old age and poor health. But we can't know for sure. But maybe that's ok. Maybe death is not something that I need to fear, but rather something that I can be silently excited for. Don't get me wrong, I am not about to squander this life. This entire blog is about living life to the fullest, in full colour, not missing out on anything big or small. And I won't live each day in anticipation of the end, but when it is my time, I can be at peace knowing that the end of my life is not really the end at all, but the beginning. What a relieving realisation.

-SP

The End - Part 1

I have been thinking about death lately, both my eventual death and how I may react if/when someone really close to my heart passes away. As I originally began writing, I had so many different things running through my head that I thought it best to split this topic into at least two parts, so that I can try and make sense of it all.


Let me first pose a few questions. What is your biggest fear when it comes to death? Is it how you will die? Is it that your loved ones won't be taken care of? Does it have nothing to do with your own demise at all, and perhaps you fear being left behind? Is it something else entirely? Or would you say that you don't fear death, and all that comes with it?


The Bible talks a lot about death. Do not fear it, God is bigger than it, it can't separate us from His love. But the reality is that I am human, and I do fear it. I sometimes think about how I might die. I sometimes wonder if I would have made a positive impact on people, or if I would be resented. I wonder if my family will be taken care of, and take care of themselves during their grief period in a healthy manner. But my biggest fear is not in me dying; it's in those I love dying.


My husband and I sometimes touch on the subject, and usually I end up in tears...I can't imagine my life without him. I don't know how and when I would move forward and live my life. I don't think I would ever be ready to live my life apart from my life partner. And then I think about my brothers and sister. Two of my brothers have military dreams; one is in the military, and the other is counting down the minutes until he gets to enlist. If I got news one day that one of them was killed in the line of duty, I would be absolutely beside myself. I imagine I would go into a deep depression, not wanting anything to do with friends, going on a solo vacation, and alienate myself from the rest of the world because of the hole in my heart. I fear that I would self-destruct.


I have lived a life of courage and strength far beyond my own. I have been blessed with the counsel of extraordinary friends and mentors. But nothing would scar my heart deeper than losing one of the six people that I love the most, and I'm not sure what it would take to be healed. Perhaps it is the lack of a measuring tool that I fear...there is no formula, no standardized time frame for grief to take it's course.


Then I think about my own death. It would be terrible to die painfully. But that seems far fetched and unlikely to happen. It would be hard to come to terms with a terminal illness, but I would enjoy every day of my short life. I am not afraid of when it is my time. But I rely heavily on the love and affirmation of my siblings and husband...that is not something I could easily live without.

The six people have have my heart entirely

Let me ask again, and feel free to comment.


What is your biggest fear when it comes to death? Is it how you will die? Is it that your loved ones won't be taken care of? Does it have nothing to do with your own demise at all, and perhaps you fear being left behind? Is it something else entirely? Or would you say that you don't fear death, and all that comes with it? Hmmm...


-SP