Heart Broken

Well, Tuesday we had to say goodbye to a beautiful soul.
Our Dog Willis has gone to the Rainbow Bridge!
I can't begin to explain the emptiness I feel at his loss! I've always been rather... hard with things. I've lost a lot in my life. I've been through hell and took names, went back for a few rounds and survived. So, I walk through life with a bit of numbness to the negative things, to the heartache in life. Or I kid myself that I do.
This has shook me though. This has knocked me on my ass, This is hell kicking me and taking my name.

We took Willis for the last car ride of his life. We told him what was about to happen, and why, and like any dog, he licked our faces and wagged his tail and jumped in the van! He was ready to go.
Once I hit the highway I numbed myself. I blocked everything out and put on my brave face. Because, though this was my dog, and I loved him. This is my husbands partner, His brother, his link to all that is good. His proof that there is a God as he puts it.
I felt my job was/is to support him through this time.
yeah, I did ok until we got to the Vet hospital. Then, I couldn't do it. My dog was all tongue and wagging tail, thinking we were taking him on a wonderful outing to a new place. So trusting, so innocent. He didn't know we were there to put an end to his beautiful existence.
We took him in, met the people we needed to meet, Paid the fee, which just about killed US, and went into the room.
I sat through them explaining how they were going to do it, Crying silently, I hugged my dog, I let my hubby comfort me, and then I said I couldn't be there.
I couldn't watch them end my dog's life. I don't know why, but I couldn't be there for him. Part of me felt like I was letting my Willis down, and part of me feels , It wasn't my place. That was a time for Willis and Bill to be together.

I went to my Van and bawled my heart out , until I thought I was going to be sick. Then pulled myself together. I knew at this point, My dog was gone, and I wanted to go make sure my hubby was ok.
I walked into the vets office and sat in the waiting chair, and then I seen it, and I heard it. I looked up from my hands towards the door, and seen my pup's tail sticking out from under it, and I heard this keening wail of my husband's grief. It stripped my numbness and my heart bled. My Bill is a "tough guy" he doesn't cry very often. And this... this was devastating. I could hear the shock at what he'd just had to do, and the heartbreaking grief. I heard it all.
I went in to see if I could comfort him. I couldn't, I just sat there rubbing both their heads, as he sat on the floor with our Willis' head in his lap. My dog looked so peaceful!

It wasn't until I got home that it was overwhelming. I walked in, and there were no welcoming Barks, I started to softly cry, but, it wasn't until i opened my bedroom door!
I looked to my bed, and there was No Willis head! NO WILLIS ! No head popping up to say "I'm not on your bed mom!! Honest!"


My house is quiet, My house is empty, my house is hollow.
I miss the smell of his farts! how sick is THAT! LOL

I sure do miss my dog.

17 Years.......

April 18th is a day each year that I take specially to remember the rough time I had to live through in 1992. I chose to not think about it the rest of the year as much as I can, because I want to spend the Rest of the time just thinking good things, and having good memories flow through my brain.

April 18 1992 is the day my brother Jason was killed. The day my life stood still, the day my world came crashing down. Nothing has been the same since.

Sure, I've learned to keep putting one foot in front of the other and carrying on, but that day, my life and reality crashed into one another creating a huge vortex. A part of my heart was killed off, and has never healed.

I've sought in many different faucets of life, to find someway of filling that void, of healing the hole.I still haven't and I think I've finally stopped trying.
and I am no longer just drugging it so it would go away. I tell you, rehab isn't worth it, LOL and I'm clean and clear! I don't drink the pain away and I don't shoot the pain away anymore, I just let is wash over me, and it seems to be working!


Its nice to be back in BC. With not having my brother buried or having a final resting place, I don't have anywhere to go to put flowers, to talk, to do all the "normal" things we do when someone passes on. With being in the city that he was killed, it gives me an opportunity to go to the site of the incident, to place Flowers and pictures and whatever else I wish, on his pole. It's my way of remembering, its my way of making the city remember.

It was a beautiful day here. The sun was out, it was warm, the birds were driving me nuts... my dogs wanted to play! Normal everyday things! I don't know why, but I tend to just wish the world would stand still along with me! Just on this one day, Is that to much to ask? LOL
My mother's "Best Friend" for almost 40 years called to talk to my mom, and when I said that she was off on a walk to the ocean and just wanted to be alone, she asked me why.. I was a little stunned, because after a few moments of talking with her, I realized, She didn't remember.
Now, ok, I understand that this wasn't HER child, but some deep part of me thinks, if your even a slight friend of my mothers, you know, and remember... let alone someone who has known her for 40 years.
I can't stand this woman to begin with, but this is a little selfish. LOL Oh well, each to their own.

So, my son and I went to the pole and put flowers and a picture of my brother on it, and called it a day.
I wasn't depressed, though, when the man walking down the road stopped and read my thing, and Started telling me how sorry he was, I admit, I cried. But for the most part, I did ok.
I had a few heart breaking and morbid moments, but I carried on. Because really.. What choice do I have?

and now, Only 8 more days until my birthday!! YAY!

Feeling Bummed

We are taking our Pup Willis to be put down on Tuesday.
I know its what is best for him, I just know it isn't what is best for ME! My husband is going to be devastated as are the children. So it's going to be a rough time for us over the next while.
My Hubby has had him for over 10 years, he's 14 years old, and starting to really get bad. He's got dementia.. which is no fun! He's been having mini strokes, doesn't have use of one leg, and still thinks he's a puppy! I love this dog!
*sighs*
And my kitten ran away!

they say things happen in 3's... With my animals, that only leaves Amber! What more can happen?

Proud Mama

Today my son met me downtown.

He had gone and got all of his gear and equipment from the Military.

I came out of my school and started walking towards the street my van is parked on and I noticed this soldier come around the corner. Now, I'm only 33 years old, Female, and I LOVE a man in uniform!
I did a double...then a triple take when I realized it was My son! MY son.

He looked so proud and wonderful.


At the same time as my heart was melting, it was breaking. This is my Baby. Only 17 years old. Getting ready to go to a war zone, as with all new recruits even eager to go.

A large part of me wanted to bundle him up, throw all the cammy gear in a pile and light it with a match! And yet, the other side of me puffs up with pride to say that my son is in the Military.

I know that he won't be going out to the active duty this year unless they are called, but seeing as we are Canadian I don't see that as probable. He is however going to be active with the Olympics. He's very excited about that.
You know, I was going to have a long long blog all about how this is making me feel.

I can't, I've spent almost 2 weeks not feeling well and not sleeping, and now that I sit here relaxing, I am tired! So I'm going to make this an early night.
I'll be back soon with another blog.

Fox News host Greg Gutfeld sparked controversy this week -- at least in Canada -- by poking fun at our military. This twaddle-fest-in-a-teapot has been dissected to death by the media, but there's still one angle that interests me.

For those who missed it, on Red Eye, a late-night talk show of which I had never heard, Gutfeld laughed at the notion that Canada has proposed taking a break after military operations in Afghanistan.

Here's a slice of his humour: "The Canadian military wants to take a breather to do some yoga, paint landscapes, run on the beach in gorgeous white capri pants." Added Gutfeld: "Isn't this the perfect time to invade this ridiculous country?"

Granted, Gutfeld's supposed side-splitters don't make a tremendous lot of sense. But I guess the gist is that Canada is an effete Tickle Me Elmo compared to the U.S., a machine-gun-toting GI Joe action figure. That Canada has the audacity to include itself as a legitimate player in the global military arena apparently irritated Gutfeld, a citizen of the greatest, most awesomely kick-ass country in the world.

It's all pretty silly, of course. But then you have to realize most Americans regard Canada (if they regard us at all) as a freezing wilderness populated by boring lumberjacks who say "eh" a lot.

Many Canuck scribes indignantly berated our American cousin for denigrating our men and women in uniform. Those with slightly more sophisticated viewpoints (including the Times Colonist's Jack Knox) pointed out that we're too quick to be insulted by this kind of thing. After all, who cares about some Howard Stern wannabe on Fox News, which surely ranks as the most lunk-headed journalistic enterprise ever.

What interested me the most was Gutfeld's defensive mea culpa. In a prepared statement, he explained his show is merely a "satirical take on the news." Thus, by implication, it's OK. It's just a joke, folks. Gawd. What's wrong with you igloo-warmers, anyway?

I love this use of the word "satire." You hear it all the time. Comics, for example, will say the most amazingly brutal and vulgar things these days. Everything is seemingly grist for the mill: Rape, pedophilia, bestiality, any form of violence, you name it. And if anyone is unhip enough to cry foul, the defence is, "Hey grandad. It's satire. What's wrong with you, anyway?"

Implying that Canada is a wimpy, capri-panted country isn't satire. It's merely a lame attempt at humour. It's the equivalent of pointing at an office-mate's garish new shirt (possibly on sale at Winner's) and saying, "Hey, is that ever a stupid shirt. It's so ... stupid." There's no wit at work here. Unlike satire, there's certainly no notion of righting a social wrong, or challenging people's misconceptions about the world. It's just an insult, played for gut laughs.

In bona fide satire, the perpetrator often puckishly assumes, in exaggerated form, the mindset of the party he or she is attempting to skewer. A good example is Stephen Colbert, pretending to be an ultra-conservative U.S. commentator in order to deliver a reverse message: that many such commentators are idiots. The Monty Python crew skewered the inanity of British life by recasting mind-numbingly ordinary situations -- a trip to the cheese shop, for example -- in an absurd manner. While more abstract, this is satire, too.

Satire needn't be tasteful. The most celebrated example, routinely cited, is Jonathan Swift's A Modest Proposal. In his 18th-century essay, Swift suggested the Irish poor might make quick bucks by selling their children to the rich as mouth-watering delicacies. Awful. But if you read the essay, you know it's clever and well-written. Not that it wouldn't get many Canadian journalists up in arms today. "Selling kids for food? Say ... wait a minute!"

The plays of 16th-century dramatist Ben Jonson were satirical. Joseph Heller's novel Catch-22, a hilarious critique of bureaucracy, is satirical. Such writers were outraged by society's failings, and had a real interest in social change.

Rather than just saying "this is wrong," they attempted to shift opinion in a clever manner. If you hit precisely the right note with humour, it can be more devastating than a hundred earnest speeches.