The Goodbye Season

 Times. They are a changin'.

My workplace has undergone some mighty big staffing changes in the past 6 months; people leaving, people joining. For someone like me, (who values relationships and consistency), the environment is unsettling and it's stirring up a whole buncha emotions. 

Each goodbye has been hard. (Rolf, Emily, Joanna, Shuwen, Isaac, Gloria, Karin ... you are missed every day.)

But the hardest 'see ya later' took place earlier this month on Melanie's last day. She was my first Work BFF... you know... that person you sit beside during staff events, that person you ride horses with during Fun Day, that person you pray with during devos.

Mel, (one of our Senior Vice Presidents) was also my role model and mentor; I learned so much about leadership from watching her lead her teams. 

Aside from that; we have The Ring Connection from December 2015...

Once upon a time, like say, back in 2012, a series of unfortunate events occurred. One of those things was a robbery where all my jewelry was stolen. 

Because I was insured, a settlement of $20,000 was agreed upon. $15,000 of that went into replacing my roof because raccoons and rats and possums had removed the cedar shakes and made a nice wide entrance for themselves and their partying friends. 

And I bought myself a diamond ring with the balance. 

On Friday, December 4, 2015 I lost it. 

I had attended a Make-It Christmas event in Vancouver that evening, but really I could've lost it at any point during the day. 

Melanie was thinking about going to that event on Sunday, so she Facebook messaged me about the market, asking if it was worth going on Saturday. I said yes. And then mentioned my lost ring:

Me:

I don't want a lost ring to be THE thing that takes up all my energy this month, but it feels shitty to know its gone. It was an extravagant purchase, totally unnecessary, and I'm not really a jewellery person, so I often felt guilty/unworthy even owning it.

It wasn't a symbol of love given to me by anyone special, it's not a heirloom passed down through generations - so there was no romantic or historical meaning behind it. I bought it with the insurance money because I thought I should have something sparkly and fun after the super shitty year I was having.

Considering all the crappy things that people in my life are dealing with, a dumb lost ring isn't worth mentioning or crying over.

God's got this; He knows where it is. And if I'm to have it back, I will.

And then on that Sunday afternoon Melanie got in touch with me again. (She'd gone to the Christmas Market with her husband):

Her:

Hey, have u heard anything?

Me: 

Nope. I left a message at their lost and found, but I don't really expect it to be there.

Her: 

Is this it?

Me:

WHAT!!!!!!

Her:

God loves you

Me:

OH MY GOODNESS

OH MY GOODNESS.

UN Believable.

Seriously?

Her:

and wants u to have sparkly things

Me:

I'm crying.

Her:

Yup!!!!

Us too

Me:

Seriously bawling.

Her:

Me too. Couldn't call. Texting is easier.

Me: 

I can't even.

Christmas Miracle or WHAT?

Her;

Totally.

Me: 

I'm still in awe. Like, you have no idea. Well, maybe you do.

Her:

No I do. Believe me.

Me:

I've only told, like 3 or 4 people that it's missing. I wasn't going to tell anyone. And I'm still surprised I told you. And hahaha. You have it. Did they just hand it over to you?

Her:

We went through the whole show and decided we'd ask at the end. But I kept thinking how easy it would be not to find it. It's such a big show. So many hiding places. 

So once we were done, we walked up to the ticket booth. There was a dude with a host jacket on. I tapped him on the shoulder and asked if there was a lost and found. 

He said yes, what did I lose. I said my friend lost a diamond ring. Had they received anything like that. 

He paused and said yes. 

He walked over to the counter and asked a lady for the ring. He asked me to describe it and it was exactly that. 

They gave it to me. I think we all were in a bit of disbelief. I was practically crying and said I was going to contact you right then, 

So awesome.

So easy.

Me: 

Oh that God. He's so. so, so ... something.

Her:

So God.

Me:

Yup, 

Feeling a little overwhelmed and totally loved.

Thankful that He used you in this story. 

Her:

Me too...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

I haven't worn the ring more than once or twice since then. Obviously I can't be trusted not to lose it. 

But I wore it on Melanie's last day at work. Because God connected us through that bit of bling all those years ago, and it meant something to both of us. 

Three things I'm thankful for:

1. The positive experience these past 11 (!) years of working with skilled, talented, committed, compassionate, people who care deeply about the organization and the people who work there. 

2. THIS weekend, when, for the first time since I said goodbye to them in Rome, we gathered at the lake to celebrate Thanksgiving. 

3. Max offered to manage to whole turkey project. 

4. Clint and Max said yes, when I (casually) asked them if they wanted to go for a walk with me. (!)

5. A life-giving concert on Wednesday evening with Matt Maher. 

6. Another stellar GLS (Global Leadership Summit) conference on Thursday and Friday. Nothing fills my tank quite like two days of presentations on leadership issues like this event does. So grateful that smart people share their experience and knowledge so compellingly. 

7. Thankful for a quiet Saturday with my mom. 

8. Thankful for books. And the people who write them. 

9. Grateful for my condo and the community at Latimer Village. It's home. 

10. So glad the internet was invented. 

Happy belated Thanksgiving!

Hug the ones you love, feel your boobs, and wash your hands. 

xo

WHO is this girl?

When I got up this morning I noticed a mess in my closet.
The clips that held my overhead wire shelves in place had snapped, depositing most of my stuff on the floor. (How did I not hear this happen?)

I took all the clothes that were on hangers and placed them gently on my bed, then moved all the boxes and blankets that were stored on the shelves to a new location in my closet. As I moved the last box, a piece of paper that was stuck to the bottom slipped off and fluttered to the floor.

It was a piece of lined paper; from an old school binder. But it had been folded in half a number of times.
(Click to enlarge)

I wrote it, I'm guessing, during the Christmas break of 1975. I would have been 14 years old.
Was I normal?
All that love and all that hate?
And oh my goodness, all those boys?

And the handwriting? Was I on drugs? Upndown, slanted, loopy, not-loopy...

I've scribbled out the last names, because who knows? They might be on facebook, and really, who wants to be the subject of some teenaged girl's note-to-self.

Observations:

• I had the same affection for movie stars as I did for boys from school. They were all fantasy to me. I never dated (or in some cases) even talked to the boys I had crushes on.
• 
  
• It seems I needed to have a reason to attend each class. I hated my teachers, apparently, so I chose a boy in each class to daydream about. (By the way, I got mostly A's with a smattering of B's all through school. Most of my dreams involved boys loving my brains.) (Also, by the way, I didn't really hate any of my teachers. I think I was trying to be badass.
• 
  
• My last sentence, about Tina moving away? Was huge. She was my first ever best friend. We both moved to Surrey when we were in grade 6, and she lived just up the road from me. We were inseparable through most of grade 6 and 7 (with the exception of that time she 'went around' with my brother, being all boyfriend/girlfriend. He was 11.) Then, in grade 8, she got in with a different crowd, so we didn't hang out as much. And by grade 9, when she moved? I was feeling lost. 
• 
  
• Other than Val, none of these people that were so important to me when I was 14 are actively in my real life anymore. (Brad, Denise and Corinne are all cyber friends, via facebook.) I ran into Mike a few years ago when he came to the office where I work. I walked into the board room and there he was - so I said, "hi, you're Mike, right? I'm Jane. K*ass**." He looked at me blankly. "We went to school together? You used to come over to my place? My parent's farm? On 96th?" Again with the blank look. "You used to hang out with Brad... You drove my go-cart in the Guildford parking lot..." Still no recognition. He didn't even remember signing my yearbook, "Me Tarzan, you Jane." Yeah. THAT was embarrassing. And pretty indicative of my impact on the boys I had crushes on.
• 
  
• A few months later, in February of 1976, when we started our second semester, I ended up in a Science class with someone named Mark. And the rest is history.

Know what?

Those years between 14 and 18 are so pivotal. They form the springboard that jump-starts your adulthood. I know "people" talk about the first 5 years being foundational, but I think I disagree. Those junior high and high school years have a greater impact on how you view yourself and the world, than those toddler years. 

My first job, at 16, was at the Hobby Hut. It ignited the spark that has become a life-long love of all-things-creative. Not only that, it gave me direction for post secondary schooling. I loved retail. And I wanted to learn how to do it better. More creatively. During my years at BCIT, I applied every theory that I learnt to my experiences at Hobby Hut... and then again at Billie's Country. 

What goes around comes around, and this week, I was delighted by the circle of life thing. When Billie's opened, my mom and I thought we'd be able to handle the business by ourselves. After two weeks it was obvious we were going to need help, so we hired two young gals to give us a hand. Lori worked 5 days a week, handling sales and Barb, a high school student, came in on Friday nights and Saturdays to work the til and help customers. She was tiny, sweet, full of energy and had no problems starting her shift each week by dusting all the window sills and removing the dead flies. 

On Wednesday, I had a friend request on facebook waiting for me when I got up. It was from Barb: 

Hi Jane

I just sent a friend request and realized you may not recognize my married name ... When you hired me I was 17, it was my first job and my name was P****! Ha! Well now I have been here (in Switzerland) for 17 years! 

Christmas always makes me think of Billie's Country! 

Cheers
Barb

Of course, I had to check out her page, then follow the link over to her blog. And guess what? She has an artists studio. Where she gives classes. And I couldn't be prouder of her.

Don't you love this?

(She shops at Ikea. Just like me. I have that rolling drawer unit too. Two of them.)

This is her poster for upcoming classes:

LOVE it.

She has a blog too. Go on, check it out. 

So.

All this has me thinking.

1. What events/situations/relationships/experiences are/did my kids have during "those" years that were so important? Which adults impacted their lives, knowingly or not? What will be built on, and what will fade away? Which relationships are going to last til they're 50, and which ones will be over before they marry? Do they have friends who will be around for the long haul?

2. Are there young women in my life that I'm influencing in a positive way? Do I need to be more intentional about that? Or do these things 'just happen'? 

Three things I'm thankful for:

1. Carolyn's challenge to memorize scripture as a way to renew your mind. The needle of my thoughts is stuck on a negative groove these past few weeks, so instead of nursing those bad vibes, concentrating on memorizing a passage in Isaiah is a good thing. It's not as easy as I thought it'd be.

2. Dinner with friends tonight. Long, meandering close-the-restaurant-down conversations are my favorite. I think I talked too much again though. 

3. Memories.

Shalom,

Twenty Three Years Ago

I became a mom.

I thought he was the most beautiful baby ever.
But, 32 hours of labor and an emergency c-section later, I was pretty exhausted, so what did I know?
:)
He was, and is, perfect.

Raising him has been an epic adventure. Wish I had been more prepared. Wish I had been wiser. Thank goodness God has been raising him too.

Dear God,
Thank you for blessing me with Clint as my child.
Thank you for creating him exactly as You did - full of curiosity, energy, and enthusiasm. I praise you for his quick mind, his logical approach to problems, his work ethic and his creativity.

God, I pray that you would protect him from the forces of evil, guide him in this quest for further education, use his desire to help the homeless to fulfill Your purposes in his life, lavish him with Your love, surround him with friends who challenge him and mentors who encourage him and role models that inspire him.

Lord, I pray, that on THIS day he will be overwhelmed with a sense of Your presence and of Your delight in him. May he go to sleep tonight, knowing that he is loved by you.

Amen.

Three things I'm thankful for:
1. Volunteers who have offered to help me stuff envelopes. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
2. Capt Crunch cereal. Dry.
3. Memories of the good ol days.

Shalom,

Easter

The kids and I had our own Easter dinner tonight.
It was the 4 of us, eating Sushi at 8 pm.
(They were planning on getting back from Sun Peaks earlier, but part way home they turned around and went back to look for a lost wallet.)
No one wanted chocolate.
So when we stopped eating, it was over.

My how the times have changed...

In the past, we celebrated Easter with any relative within 50 miles. And we started with an Easter egg/candy hunt that involved appox 5 pounds of sugar for each participant:

Max and Zac -

Chad and Drew:

Mandi:

Vanessa:

Clint and Jesse:

And then, going EVEN further back, we used to spend Easter at the cabin:

The kids would run around hunting for the candy, then it would get spread out on the picnic table, and everyone got a chance, one turn at a time, to pick the candy they wanted til it was divided up evenly.
Fairness is important at Easter.

Clint, Max and Zac:

Drew and Sarah:

This year my family got together for turkey and Purdy's on Sunday night and my kids weren't there. The first few times that I showed up at family dinners without a husband felt weird. And this past Sunday, showing up without my kids, felt awful. Everyone else in the family has managed to hold it together... I am the loser.
I'm the one they ask to bring store-bought buns.
I'm "that" relative.
:)

In the end, it turned out fine. Dinner was delicious. Conversation was good. Yahtzee was excellent. These are my people. And it didn't matter to anyone that I was alone.

Three things I'm thankful for:

1. Clint

2. Max

3. Drew

Shalom,

I'm this way because ...

Part 2

Do you know how sometimes someone says something as a toss-away statement and it ends up totally hitting the mark?

That happened to me last week.
We were having our staff devotions/prayer time and using the Arrow Lenten Devotional as our guide. The passage we were reading was the Lazarus-being-raised-the-dead story (John 11), and we briefly discussed the suggested question/reflection that an Arrow alumnus has written. Blah, blah, blah it was all good and fine and then we prayed. To be honest, looking back, I can't remember the point of that study. At the time it seemed insightful, but whoosh. In my head one minute, gone the next.

And then.
Then after all was said and done, and just as we were finishing up, Steve says, in his quiet Columbo-like way, "you know what always strikes me about this passage? The very last verse. The one where it says,  (after Lazarus has come out of the cave/grave) "Jesus told them (Lazarus's neighbours, friends and family) to unwrap him and let him loose."

"It's a great illustration of what community is, isn't it?" he observed. "Lazarus was literally bound up in death clothes and while Jesus could have wrinkled His nose like Samantha  or waved a magic stick like Moses and had those stinky bits of fabric fall away from Lazarus's body *snaps fingers* just like that, He purposefully leaves the unwrapping process as something Lazarus's community needed to do." (OK. Steve didn't reference Samantha or Moses. I added that. It's my blog.)

Hmmm.
Who in my community of friends and family is bound by something and needs my help to unwrap it? To free them of it?
Conversely, do I have my knickers in a knot about something and maybe need someone to help me sort it out? (I don't want to take the panty analogy any further because children read this blog.)

And speaking of community, who exactly is in mine?
Do you know who is in yours?

Seeing how as I've got the old photo albums out AND know how to use the scanner (!) I'm going to tie-in my thoughts on community with some old pics by saying, my parents, brother and sister were the biggest part of my community during the first 15 years of my life.

So. I am who I am partly because these people have loved me forever:
(if you click on the pics they become life size.)

Yes. That's me in the middle, wearing someone's curtains. And that's my mom in the mini skirt. My Grandpa and Granny are right behind me. And resting his chin on my head is my Uncle Dean (who is 4 years older than me.)
(Here's the story. My grandpa and grandma had two kids - Don and my mom, Hilda. When Don was 21, he moved to Kansas for school and my mom (who was 17) moved to Abbotsford to go to MEI for grade 11. Granny was lonely. The big ol house was empty. Night moves were made. And Dean was born 9 months later. )

What? Don't all families have stories like that?
Yeah, so that's my mom with the high hemline matching her high hairdo and that's my dad rocking the turtleneck because he was rebelling against TIES.

This is us again, years later:

(The only addition is that guy in the back with glasses. Who brought him?)   :)

The wimin in my fam:

This is my family. We spent hours talking at the supper table, we spent long weekends camping, we spent New Year's at Harrison Hot Springs and we spent spring break in California. We went to Killarney Park MB Church in Vancouver, so we spent a couple of hours every week on the freeway. And between us three kids, we gave our parents eight grandchildren in eight years.

(No, I didn't crop him out of 20 years of pictures. Photos capture a moment in time. And in that moment - I was married.)

During those pre-boyfriend years, my mom was my best friend:

She was a flashier dresser than I.
She Accessorized.       Always.
Here we are at my grandma's place. This is how she dressed to have fespa with her mom. Her footwear? White knee high shiny plastic(?) gogo boots.

Sometimes I was her accessory... matching moomoos for breakfast at Denny's in Palm Springs :)

Matching bathing suits...

This is my mom: (with all the other moms at church who taught Pioneer Girls) -

(I showed this pic to Kaitlynn yesterday and she was all, "I wish I had a mom as cool as yours." And then she looked at me and said, Erhmmm. What happened to you?")

My dad was my biggest cheerleader, believing I could do anything.
He liked tight white shorty shorts.

I will spare you the pictoral evidence, but believe me he wore those shorts on every holiday for YEARS.

Because Jule and I are five years apart, we only went to school together for two grades. For all our growing up years, we never had the same get-ready-for-school morning schedule. So even though we shared the upstairs bathroom, we never shared it, if you know what I mean. We had bedrooms on opposite ends of the house and never borrowed each other's clothes. (We borrowed mom's.) (DUH.)

The five year age difference disappeared when we started having babies at the same time.  :)

My brother:

These are my people. My first 'community'.

It's their fault.

:)

Three things I'm thankful for:
1. Drew added oil to my truck tonight. "Now these are the types of chores you can have me do."
2. Good Friday is right around the corner.
3. Love.

Shalom,