And the Greatest of these is Love


I have learned a hard lesson this year. I am not in control of anything. I always gave that idea lip service, but now I know it to my core. Hell, I can not even string three coherent sentences together right now. I had the most perfect year of my life last year; now I don't know which end is up.

But I do know one thing; I am blessed with many gifts.

And the greatest of these...is love.

 Know that as I write this I am sobbing - in grief
and gratitude; in despair and thankfulness; in confusion and, yet clarity. I am loved. This man has shown me that more over the past 7 months than in the whole 13 years we have been together. When I was first injured in February he stepped up and became a horseman, and learned what it is to have that bond. When I subsequently became ill and through further injuries, he never once complained. He knew what I needed even when I did not and sent my back to my roots to help me feel grounded again. When the decision was made to part with Ali, he wept with me. Now he holds me together while I crumble, overwhelmed by the twists and turns that fate has thrown at me this year. He believes in me now, when I no longer believe in myself. He is my anchor, and I love him for that, among his other attributes.

 
 


I am loved. My son, Neal - sushi and Cribbage, Slow Cooker Tacos and Rawlins Cross... acceptance of me as I am, understanding and forgiving the mistakes of the past and instrumental in forging our own, distinct and wonderful relationship. Allyssa, brilliant, driven, beautiful and becoming her best self as she navigates her future. And still has time for me; her old teacher, but now we are friends on a different level. And I am grateful. For all of my former students, now young adults with their own busy lives and following their own paths, but have still taken time to see me, message me, send me hugs....I appreciate every single one. You amaze me. Too many to name right now; Allyssa represents you all in this blog.

Friends from my lifetime : Grade 2, Grade 3, Grade 7, Grade 12, University, teaching. From my early days as a young teacher, as an old teacher.Friends with whom I have not been in touch with nor seen in decades, but who knew me when, and know me now, and still....love me. In some ways our individual life struggles throughout the years have brought us together in a closer way. I am more aware now of the fleeting nature of our lives. How precious our time is together: Cindy drove 4 hours just to have lunch with me; Pam gave me the surprise of my life when she showed up to make the reunion complete. Cathy and Suzana opened their homes to me so we could reminisce and discover who we are now. To find out how those fun loving girls from the Mount carved their way through life with all its pitfalls and successes. Char was off to remember her dad's life the next day, but found time for me. We all bear the lines, grey hairs and scars, but damn! Girls...we still look good!



        

 Jamie, my Grade 9 student in1982. Her love and belief in me brought back a memory of that young, idealistic student who fell in love with teaching and her kids. She is still one of my dearest friends, a strong, compassionate, courageous woman going through struggles of her own but who came to support me. I came broken, and you all showed me who I had been, who I am and how to heal. And you did it with laughter, tears, just a bit of wine...and love.

Why am I so amazed by this? I guess because I grew up unloved by the one person who is supposed to love you unconditionally  - my mother. If she didn't love me, why should anyone else? I lived my life believing that; it became as much a part of me as my anxiety and depression. But over the last 15 years I have been working on understanding that part of my life; how false it was; how wrong. I met people who didn't know anything about me - and loved me for myself. That was a huge revelation. It started my healing.

Which brings me to my family...my dad's family...many of whom I had not seen for 20 years. I stayed with my cousin, Louise and her husband for 4 nights. A lot of missing pieces to the puzzle that is my youth were filled in through talking with her. Important pieces. Not to mention that she makes the best Rappie Pie from scratch that I have tasted in many decades! We took one full day and drove to the Clare District of NS  where the Acadian culture that I was raised in for 5 years still flourishes.
Oncle Coral & Tante Elsie
My cousin Louise, Oncle Coral and her fab Rappie Pie
My dad died when I was 5. He was from a small farming community the French Shore of Nova Scotia where he and his 10  brothers and sisters grew up on the family farm. My happiest memories from childhood are of the halcyon days spent on that farm; dried fish, Rappie Pie, milking cows, and, of course, the bay mare, Queenie. I used to sneak her peppermints and bread and molasses.
Tante Marie



Oncle Jean
       
Tante Simone
Oncle Maurice
 But then, I left NS for many years, and when I returned, I stayed away. Why? No reason at all. I have only myself to blame. And I am so sorry. On this day they embraced their prodigal niece as if I had never been gone....or perhaps because I had. They seemed to understand that I had come home to see if my roots were still there, and they were. We drove past the old farm and I felt a pull, a yearning to walk through that barn door and perhaps catch a glimpse of a happy, little girl chasing kittens or hiding in the hay. Or wander down the cow path and see if the old apple tree is still there, the one I used to climb and pretend it was my steed. Or maybe it is best to just remember and see those memories in my mind's eye and in the eyes of those who were there as well and feel them in the warm hugs and laughter that we shared on that wonderful day. I was exhausted but so peaceful at the end of that day. It will not be another 20 years before I see them again. Merci, ma famille.

Tante Jeannette



Jean 
 

My cousin, Jean and her husband live on the Atlantic Ocean near all the beaches and haunts of my youth. Jean is only 2 years younger than I am, and we both grew up in the turmoil, chaos and devastation that was my mother's side of the family. I feel reinforced after I spend time with her; reinforced in my memories, because at times I can doubt them. But she was there and suffered the consequences of our  toxic childhoods, the same as I did and many of my other cousins. When no one else can understand me; she will. My dear Aunt Wynann was married to my mother's youngest brother who just passed away. I know that her life was not easy, but her spirit and sense of humour were indomitable! I was so glad to spend time with her and hear the sparkle back in her voice. We have come a long way in love and forgiveness ....for me.....forgiving myself.

Yes, this is an addition; yes, this is an amendment. But I beg forgiveness from my sister from another (toxic) mother. How could I have left you out? My partner in crime for the last 25 years; my biggest supporter, someone who has been there for me and Darren constantly in any way she or John, her husband could be. I consider her my North Star, much like the sailors who used it as the unchanging constant in the the Universe, Shelley gives me a home: not just in the physical sense but a home in her heart; loves me unconditionally, and I left her out....just as we do unwittingly to some of the most important people in our lives who love us the most. My dear, dear tender hearted friend...I guess that's why I will never write a book. I love you!
                 

The greatest gift I can give someone is my love: as a friend, a parent, a teacher, a mentor, a wife, a niece, a cousin. But I have to be able to give that same gift to myself - not so easy sometimes, especially when my world seems to be falling apart. But as I walked the sands at Crescent Beach and dipped my toes in the frigid Atlantic, I felt the weight lift off my heart a bit....just enough to consider that if all these people loved me enough to be here to support me now, maybe....just maybe....I can let the old version of me go and embrace the newer version ..McLeod62.0....still flawed and imperfect, but worthy of love.















































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