It’s spring. There are blossoms everywhere. I’ve always loved Spring. Always thought it to be a beautiful prelude to the warmth to come. This particular Spring I have an extra spring in my step, literally. The birds chirp more loudly. Blossoms shine more brightly and even look bigger. I am filled with quiet optimism.
Boy? Girl? Keep it a surprise? The midwife hands us a folded piece of paper with the gender enclosed. Do we look? Do we wait?
I was pregnant, again...for the second time this year. I was hopeful. It was a year of sometimes painful, sometimes uncomfortable, always cautious, sweet anticipation.
I want to foster in him a love for people, new sights and experiences near and far.
I walked past the real that day, and even though I wondered, and pondered...even though I felt I cared... I kept walking. I kept scrolling.
So, once a week I reflect and write down what I am grateful for and every week I write something about the love I have for my village...
At this time last year I took a trip to Manitowaning ...I was in a dark, cold and lonely place. I was confused. I was worried. I was scared. I was sad. I felt shame and regret. I felt karma was at play and it felt as though it was my fault.
I self diagnose all of the time and very rarely am I wrong. Except for that time I thought I was dying. I felt deathly ill and got tiny red bumps all over my body. I researched all over the internet and concluded “I’ve got Scarlet Fever. Yes, I’m going to die.”
At the stroke of midnight, I ate 12 raisins, one at a time, each one representing one wish for the New Year...Wishes fulfilled, I embark on a new journey. A journey of writing, motherhood and reflecting on this thing called life.
12raisins 