On October 15, 2012, one of my biggest supporters fell into eternal slumber after losing her battle with leukemia. My aunt, Sharron, was one of few who believed in me, even when I didn’t. She stood by me, no matter what and accepted me with all my faults. She inspired me. She was truly an exceptional human being and I am blessed and proud to be part of her family. She was an angel on earth, so I know she’s more than that in heaven. And I know she will be watching and cheering me on as I embark upon this new chapter of my life. We knew this day would come. Unlike four short months ago, to the day, when we suddenly lost another truly amazing member of our clan, my uncle, Barry. He devoted his life to helping others and was taken from us much too soon on the day before his son would celebrate his first Father’s Day. It was sudden, unexpected and completely unfair. I was angry at God and questioned His ways. Oh my aching heart. It was bruised and battered. And I wept. I struggled silently. I tried to keep my focus. I tried not to fall behind in my studies. I tried to smile. I did my best to keep on living because we all know life goes on. In June, I had the dismal task of explaining the death of my uncle to my daughter. He was now an angel in heaven, watching over us with baby Jesus. And now, I had to explain how Aunt Sharron would be joining him, to watch us from above. I was unable to do it without tears in my eyes. And I felt a sense of guilt for bringing an undoubtedly adult issue to light in the eyes of my child. But, she was stronger and more compassionate that I had ever imagined. After hugging me tightly, she kissed my cheek and told me she loved me. And then, “Uncle Barry is an angel in heaven with baby Jesus, right? And now Aunt Sharron is with him. So they have each other now…and I bet they are happy and smiling, you know? It’s ok mommy.”
How a four year old could soothe my heart was beyond me. I felt amazed and proud and reassured I was doing something right as a parent. And thank God that.
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About one month after going back to school, I started to miss my little bugger. And I could tell she was feeling it too. The two nights a week that I worked the closing shift were tough. Yes, I had applied and qualified for financial assistance to help with the cost of school and life in general, but it wasn’t enough for everything and I needed to work to offset the cost of life. She would cry and ask me not to go. It definitely pulled at my heart strings. I went to work sometimes feeling so guilty. I always felt the need to justify why I had to work. And by the time I reached my place of employment, I had reassured myself she was fine and playing with her daddy. Because we all know within ten seconds after I left, she was fine and I was the only one dwelling on things. My daughter and I are fairly close. Up until we both started school, we spent a lot of time together. We had decided as a family that I would stay home after maternity leave and work part time at night. It just made more sense for our family financially. But when we decided it was time to move out of our apartment and into a house, I had no choice but to head back to work full-time. Our daughter was almost three when this happened. She adapted well to the change and we were lucky enough to find a reasonably affordable child care provider, who also happened to be a friend of my hubby. Being apart during the days now was alright since she was so excited to go to school and there was so much to occupy her. But, at home she took notice to my absence. I knew it would happen. But, she would have to tough it out and get used to it. Perhaps we spent a little too much time together and this would serve as a good way to cut the cord, as they say. But for now, I am not sure who’s struggling with it more…me or her.
The first week of school was a long series of adjustments. Anyone getting into a new routine will always face challenges or struggles, but adding a child to the mix just puts the FUN back into dysfunctional. Not that either one of us has issues with adjusting to change, we just both need time to adapt. And as I was adapting to my new learning environment, my daughter was also adapting to hers while at the same time, adapting to each other’s. Add my life-partner adapting to everyone’s new schedule and like I said, it was a series of adjustments. By the end of the first week, however, I had learned I was officially the oldest student in the class, one of only three parent-students and the only person without a cell phone. I know, shocking. How do you go to school and study communications without owning a cell phone. I don’t know, but I managed to do it. What else I found amazing was a simple statement from the Coordinator. He was giving advice about social media management and online conduct. He asked “How many of you have had Facebook since you were 13?” Hmmm, ok. When I was 13, the internet didn’t exist. Well, not to the general public. I can recall my first internet experience though. I was in grade 10 typing class (yes, you read that correctly, TYPING class) when the teacher asked if we wanted to see something neat. Of course we did, so all the students huddled around her desk to marvel at a photo and short bio of her son in his hockey team profile. He was away at University in the United States and it was amazing to us that we could see him right there on the screen when he was hundreds of kilometres away. Oh how far we’ve come since then. Just imagine where we’ll go! But then I got to thinking. None of my classmates (with a few possible exceptions) could even relate to that. How “Get off the internet, I need to use the phone,” is a phrase they have never heard at home. I bet they’ve never had to rewind a movie rental either. Or flip a tape cassette for that matter. And so now it is apparent that I am closer to the professor’s in age then my classmates. I don’t feel awkward about this really. It will just take some getting used to…and a little adjustment. I was late for my first day of school. On purpose. You see, I had the unique experience of sharing my first day of college with my daughter’s first day of kindergarten. And, as important as it is to make a good first impression, it was more important not to miss my little girl getting on the school bus for the first time. For some parents, this is a big deal…and I happen to be one of those parents. So I waited with her, at the bus stop, excited and proud (mostly proud) for that symbolic act which reinforces to all parents that your baby is growing up. The bus pulled up, and off she went. In fact, I had to call her back and ask for a hug and kiss goodbye. I watched and waved as the bus drove off and will forever remember that little smiling face peering back at me from the window, eyes wide and shining, curious and confident. She was ready. And so was I. As soon as I dried my eyes, of course. Inspired by the confidence of my 4 year old, I made my way to school. It was my turn to enter into an unfamiliar atmosphere with confidence and curiosity. Only I was nervous. I had never been nervous for a first day of school that I can remember, but for some reason this time felt different. Why? Was it because I had high expectations of myself? Possibly. But, I think parts of me worried I would be decades older than the other students and this age gap would make me feel out of place or slightly uncomfortable. I was feeling thankful that I look younger than my age at this point. Hopefully I won’t seem out of place. I now had a clue about how the tallest kid in class might feel, or the shortest kid, or the heaviest. So when you think about it, everyone has their own reasons for feeling out of place and I better come to terms with mine fast as I was quickly approaching the classroom door. As I reached the door, I paused only for a moment, taking a deep breath and reminding myself why I was here in the first place. I can do this, I thought. I’ve got to. I know I can. If I can witness a fearless little girl climb onto a bus and be off to school, just like that, then surely to God, I can open this door and enter this class like I am meant to be here. And that’s exactly what I did. |
Shauna QuinnNo stranger to taking the road less travelled, I must admit those not so great choices made me who I am and led me to where I am right now, which happens to be exactly where I am supposed to be. Archives
July 2018
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