ellensagh

15. Love

Journal #91 October 15, 2006 -December 21, 2006

My son is into Al-Anon. Nice friends. Haven’t heard from Wes; will probably check it out. Honesty works for me. Sitting in front window contemplating if I want to get the documents and discs with all my writing out of my house? It’s like I don’t even know what’s on the discs anymore. Did nails; glad I’m taking care of them. It’s cold and windy; raked leaves, and invited the two friends I still regularly walk with for some homemade turkey soup.
Had a five sister weekend in Winnipeg. Enjoyed but still feel different from them. As if I put my stuff on the back burner when with them. As soon as I’m home it’s back front and centre. Now feel vulnerable, alone and overwhelmed; needing some time or something. My son stopped in; cut up over young guy he knows committing suicide. He leaves. I’m in such despair; is it his or from work, weekend with my sisters or all my own?
Told kids to get a passport, schedule a week off at Christmas, and we can find a trip to go somewhere. I told them might be out of country or might be Calgary, but if we can find a last minute thing, whatever it is, it will be their Christmas present.
Doing funny things. Missed lunch appointment with my friend; forgot gloves in car. Irritated at work’s cubicle living. Want to sound off at my co-worker’s conversations my customer’s don’t need to hear. One of my customers heard a colleague say they have to pea. I was late for two appointments at work; never happened before. I sent faxed information to the wrong place. Not like me. I stood up to a man in a work situation; pretty terrified inside.
A woman I never met phoned saying had read my life saving book. The intensity in her voice so there. A few minutes later, I listened to my daughter’s aspirations; the critical thinking skills being used. WOW! Grabbed my first book; was in the drawer with the scrabble game and headed out for supper and a beer by myself. My game of life. Thought I’d use my book to look up a list of values I had written about in that first book. When I found it, could not see myself in any of them. It had me realizing the magnitude of the first book and now a second one is done. This second one is BIG in that it is is the end of the church civil suit and my doing a marathon.
BIG! WE FINISHED LISTING SIXTY DOCUMENTS. Ideas start flowing on how to make this second book survivor friendly:1) donate to Tamara’s House;maybe make a binder 2) To Sexual Assault Centre 3) Book and CD in tandem 4) Send a letter to board members,survivors and staff 5)Grassroots 6)have an emergency book meeting.
Is the meeting: Closure or Opening? Would I sell as a resource? How in the limelight would I want to be? Why am I doing it?
Symbolic that as I was sorting; had those documents in my bed. No wonder I want them out of here. Guess will do the next step; get some plastic covers for the originals; another fucking growing period. Look in the mirror. I look pretty awful.
Creative ideas coming though when a woman at singing started drumming and I had the words:
Did you hear the beat
The heartbeat you are hiding
Take your heartbeat
And put into a song
Did you play the beat
With your inner child
Take the heartbeat
And pass it on and on.

And it went on, “Can you hear it, can you hear it, can you hear it, can you hear it?”

Pretty powerful moment of co-creation. Life is interesting!
Asked some women over for Friday at three; thinking of putting Book I; Book II and documents on a website; where someone can’t change content. Feels right today. Was asked to go on a Gratitude cruise. Not right now; feels better my idea to do something with the kids and so enjoying being gramma these days; watching basketball games. Have to get a stove for the suite downstairs. Had some other household dilemma’s; the sewer backed up. City would come dig up lawn; and change lead pipe to copper; said if I choose not to; will still maintain when tree roots block the sewer. Do it now; or do it later. Decide on later. Wish I didn’t have to work; could be creating all the time. Feel like life is flying by; like it didn’t turn out like I thought it would.
Another woman phoned me thanking me as she just got a settlement from a church in Ontario. Took one and half years; she said so thankful for my support and showing her the way. Mine had taken nine years. It spurred me on; felt the relevance for women as I put documents like the statement of claim, defense, examination for discovery or the retainer agreement between a lawyer and client in the heavy page protectors that a friend gave me.
Had a dream that the person who cares what happens in the world is giving old things away or being paid minimally. Had the four women two and half hour meeting and we discussed the book ideas I’ve had. Accomplished some closure and clarity. It is a Ten Year Journey of a Survivor that has been documented. Days after lots of crying. Feeling like I have a lot to give and still like nobody wants. Up to now have felt some responsibility to do something for others; as if I’ve had it good; the social work education. Is this a vocation? No but it is a deep connection to something though. Lots of crying continues.
Parched for love.
My son and I are spending a lot of time together. Another young guy committed suicide. My son actually works with the father and told me the parents gave him four pairs of their son’s good pants. I don’t know what to think about that. What pain in the world. The kids both asked for the twenty fifth to twenty ninth of December as vacation days. Maybe it will work. Would be wonderful. Gave them passport cost for their birthdays.
November in Saskatchewan. Streets like skating rinks; always thought great that I can walk to work. Fell twice. Gave disc copy of my second book to both kids. Still having weird body sensations like birthing a baby feeling in bottom of my back; hard to even go for a walk.
Best part of past week was being gramma playing in the snow; making a ramp from trampoline outward for snowboarding. I was fielding the questions on whether I will ever get married again or have more babies. So fun playing fox and geese; laying on the trampoline; looking at the stars.
Went to my sisters the next weekend and like in this exhaustion; so tired; embarrassingly tired. Had to lay down different times.
Changed my work hours from seven am to five pm; taking a twelve to two pm lunch break. Takes six minutes to walk to my house; can sit in the sun for two hours and renew.
Sitting in the sun; thinking and pondering about endings and beginnings. idea to have a good-bye to my book and binder party; to have it on December sixth; the anniversary of the shootings of the fourteen women who died at the school in Montreal. Remembrance, mourning and moving on. Letting go of the old. An invitation to a new life. Beginnings. How much I appreciate my relationship with Wes and have to tell him.
Making lists of who I’ll invite to my party. Had Wes here for the evening; told him about my book giving away adventure ideas; he went through the documents but mostly the book. I was surprised at how okay I was about it. We had a good visit; talked about a lot of things but our relationship is not moving beyond holding hands; maybe someday. Was appreciative of his sentence, “sometimes, just all the responsibilities.”
Into deep stuff as my give away book day becomes closer; as if all that ever was is trying to get out at once; generational; all that was in this lifetime; all exposed; all awarenesses inside. I need it out. As if self-doubt going on about what is the pain in my body. Is it a physical thing; like viral from overwork; lack of sleep or all anxiety over speaking out. Back to questioning if this is my vocation; what I’m meant to do; called to do; the cost of keeping a secret; cost of speaking out; living with spirit fully; going into the void again; void of nothingness; let it all go; the hurts I’ve held on to; abuses of others; others crap; people’s failure to understand; my lack of understanding; my wanting understanding; my not being there for self; my fear of being truly who I am; my brokenness; my intolerance of others brokenness; the depth of hunger in me for what I used to call food for the soul. Now I’d call it needing spirit which is a breath of fresh air. The beauty of a flower, fresh food, a smile or a kindness. Some of this is about giving up dreams; the book being in print; things not being easier; that the past still impacts me to the extent it does.
But I’m making lists non stop and doing things. Having beer and wine at my party. Now have a travel agent looking for me. Have been sweeping and shoveling snow a lot. Talking again to my financial adviser about long term. This is about my life plan. The pain and tiredness as I process it all yet again. Let there be peace in my head. Would it be there or their? All symbolic. I am letting go of whether this happened for a reason or a random act. IT WAS NOT A RAMDOM ACT: ALL CONNECTED.
Went to my doctor to check if a chest infection or bronchitis. She listened to my chest; said nothing wrong; apologizing for lateness; had been at an Indigenous Fair; so I walked out of the doctor’s office and thought maybe that’s why I went to the Dr; to hear about the fair so walked to it; bought a cashmere silk scarf or like a shawl or stole. Ten bucks. BEAUTIFUL. Will probably have it the rest of my life. Went out with Wes again.
Then he went with me to the work Christmas party at the Saskatoon Inn. Danced Beautiful. We were even color coordinated in our clothes. I did ask him to come to my book give away party. He said he’d stop by as has hockey that night. It’s a good thing, I think. Feels that way anyway.
Wrote the donation letter:

December 6, 2006

TAMARA’S HOUSE
Services for Sexual Abuse Survivors

Dear Tamara’s House:

Today, December 6, 2006, the National Day set aside to end Violence against Women, I wish to donate the use of this information package that was part of my healing journey in hopes that others journeys are easier. It is a three inch binder that documents a major part of a Survivor’s ten year journey.

It includes documents that show the process of our criminal and civil justice system; such as a retainer agreement between a customer and a lawyer, the statement of claim, statement of defense; court transcripts, a settlement document, etc.

It includes Book 1 – in print (1998) Wanted: Someone To Understand Child Sexual Abuse and now Book II; on disc and in process titled: As Long As I Understand. All rights reserved. I retain copyright and ask that content stay original. I say in process as I am open to moving this Book II into print as I believe breaking silence and ending abuse is needed.

This information package contains explicit material on sexual abuse. I do not accept any liability/ies of any nature arising from the use or misuse of this information; or responsibility for any loss or damage caused by reliance on any statement contained herein, made negligently or otherwise, including works by other referenced authors/ writers of the information.
I thank those who went before, those sharing my pain, and more so, joy, these days and the support and love that brought me to this place of letting go and moving on. Let there be peace.

Sincerely,

Sharon Speaks

Then I set an appointment for a formal family picture for myself, my children and grandson.

The December sixth day comes. My daughter let me know she was not coming but I so appreciated the card she gave, “Some do; Some don’t; You did” it said, and her beautiful message knowing she doesn’t speak lightly about anything. I hope the kids gained being put through the fire with all the things they’ve had to experience not by their choice. My son asked me to read a letter of gratitude he wrote his Dad. I think these letters and cards are the deepest, most profound gift of love a child can give a parent. My daughter’s letter is on that scale; one of unconditional love especially after the hurt and heartache my books have caused her.
Fifteen women as well as Wes and my son came for my give away. The evening went fine; although not sure what was happening to me physically; like my lungs filled up; burning; shocking how chest was burning; as if feeling the despair of it all. I could feel it unwinding up my back and was so uncertain what was happening; wondering if it is infected beliefs I’m ridding myself of? My daughter’s chest was burning up like mine; she went to doctor and her doctor said her chest is clear. So connected to something we are both experiencing.
A woman from Tamara’s House accepted the book on their behalf and invited me to their fifteenth anniversary which was happening the next day. I went; cried a lot while I was there; probably after effects of having all those people celebrating that I completed the book to a ready to give up stage but also that there is a house where women can go now.
It didn’t help that this week in Saskatoon; on T, the news spoke of a seven year old who was being abused on the internet live by her dad in Saskatoon.
The week following the give away; I am sorting, cleaning, washing everything and going through my scrapbooks. I stayed home all weekend. Dad phoned telling me about the local paper featuring him and how big music had been in his life in quite a long article. My ninety five year old aunt phoned, asking if I could find her a pool cue saying she may as well take it up; can leave the pool cue for a friend when no longer needs. I love it.
My chest is still hurting and like I’m angry that I feel this rough; that I worked so hard and it’s this tough. Is it all emotional or am I sick.? I did get antibiotics and they didn’t make a difference. Then my back went into spasms. I went for a chiropractic appointment. Lots of self-degradation going on. I want the compassion to sort or heal this deep pain that almost feels untouchable. I don’t want the TV, radio, noise or anything.
I want PEACE. I cry thinking of the violence in the world; things like my nephew being beat up or my friend’s son and daughter who have both been car jacked and in both cases, it was nothing they did.
Thoughts of my life path keep coming in my head. Not sure what it is. Lots of crying. Tears Too Long Held In. And yet I feel all this gratitude for the unnamed who have been there for me, for Tamara’s House, for the community.
The kids come over for a supper and I am frying garlic, onions; sausage and noodles. The three of us are sitting on my bed; laughing non stop over silly comments. Fun. Saying to them we are three weeks away from coming back from our holiday that we don’t know where we are going.
I ask friends over for a potluck at my house. What a glorious unplanned potluck of golden butternut squash soup with ginger, fresh salad with snow peas, wild rice with dried cranberries, maple syrup and nutmeg glazed root vegetables, bumble berries and raspberries that tasted fresh and wholesome and we ended with mint tea.
I am going for three minute stand up tans each day in hopes of a hot holiday with the kids. I have a travel agent looking. My daughter has one too. I took a course at work which asked what type of person I am? The words that came out from inside surprised me. “Certainly a thinker as well as a feeler; I am a Goddess and Spiritess in human form; I think, act, feel, am Peace Opening my Heart. I am loving, living, compassion, developing, creating, nurturing, lighting, bridging, connecting, essencing, spiraling, beloving, being.” Glad we didn’t have to share out loud.
Still such pain in chest. Drew a picture of myself and wrote the following words all over it. Wronged, unfairness, hurt as a child; uncared for; creature of habit; child waiting for fun; unhappy adult searching for love, my son’s hurting. Work. Wisdom. No running water when I grew up; worked so hard, uncared for; vulnerable; searching for love, abused and used by others that were filling their own needs.
Had a massage; next day saw a blue with white aura of light around a woman at work. Feel like I am fighting my way out of exhaustion or a burn out. Bought a card for Wes. Realize my heart is really involved there. Decide to take a supper out to Dad and my aunt in Prairietown. Was a great three days; even if I can’t feel when around them.
A three days spent even better would be with someone who understands spiritual deprivation, loss or blocked energy; or with someone who could hear the wailing needing to be done. I am realizing the cost of holding things in.
December 16, 2006 -Back from Prairietown and the wailing came; felt like cried for days. Still seems like going on a hot holiday; getting out clothes as if going to Mexico; need to find my bug spray and sun screen. Recognize how difficult it is to be doing this holiday thing idea; unknowing what I’m doing, where we’re going.
Wes asked me for supper. Went, came home and wrote: Sad that dinner didn’t go anywhere. Didn’t do anything or say anything so that it would go somewhere. Don’t want to play games. I want him to want to spend time with me; get to know me; be in the everyday; okay with me just how I am; phone me often; tell me he enjoys my company; likes how I look; how I dress; want a relationship and want to include me in his life.
Supper was okay but not really great. It’s like it’s bland or something and I’m not talking about supper. Is it that I’ve always had crisis’ and it’s hard to have bland. Hard to know what would make me happy. As if wishing; wanting something to fill up some empty spot. I think I want a for sure, easy answer; rest of my life knowing what’s ahead; not knowing is not fun. Not going to happen I’m sure; so accept life as it is.
December 18, 2006 “A little too much stress for me,” I write: “Don’t want to plan ahead like this again.” My daughter phones me just before first work break. She found an $800.00 all inclusive week and put on hold until 3:30 this day. I took off to the bank; had the money to the travel agency at noon. Before the end of the day my daughter had the itinerary and emailed it to me. I have a picture of the resort. Beautiful. We are going to Puerto Vallarta or something like that. Feeling all will be okay. In the flow. My son is photocopying passport information to leave at home with someone. I guess tonight I need to pack. Do I take runners or shoes? I can be gramma at the concert tomorrow night. So glad I’m not missing it.

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