Happy New Year Everyone!
Unfortunately we had no time for Christmas cards this year, and instead, made a family video recapping moments and events from 2012. It's amazing what one year can bring, and I especially loved taking a moment to reflect on the year we've had.
Thanks to our families and friends, and the community we live in for the support and love. And thanks especially to my number one love Regan, with whom I could not live without.
May 2013 bring you peace and light in the darkest moments.
Love,
The Ross family
xo
Monday, December 31, 2012
Friday, December 28, 2012
Merry 3rd Christmas Gabrielle
Oh Gabrielle!
Merry 3rd Christmas my sweet baby girl. It is so wonderful to see your eyes still light up with happiness and joy at the simple pleasures in life: like when your dad walks into the room, or when your brothers lie beside you on the floor, or playing peek a boo, or when someone else you love comes over to see you. Oh how much you want to move yourself around the house like the independent spirit you are and how much it pains your mommy's heart to know that your little body, your vessel in this life, will not allow you to do so.
Your momma's heart breaks for you, sweet baby girl. When I hear your cough at night and struggle to breath properly. When I have to suction you to keep you comfortable. When you cry in your sleep at the unfairness of your disease, we cry with you.
Your momma's heart soars as high as the stars when you smile and talk to us. You teach us that no matter what life deals you, you can still smile. No matter how unfair life can be, you can still love and be loved.
Merry Christmas Gabrielle. Thank you for bringing to life the Christmas spirit in our family.
We love you.
Merry 3rd Christmas my sweet baby girl. It is so wonderful to see your eyes still light up with happiness and joy at the simple pleasures in life: like when your dad walks into the room, or when your brothers lie beside you on the floor, or playing peek a boo, or when someone else you love comes over to see you. Oh how much you want to move yourself around the house like the independent spirit you are and how much it pains your mommy's heart to know that your little body, your vessel in this life, will not allow you to do so.
Your momma's heart breaks for you, sweet baby girl. When I hear your cough at night and struggle to breath properly. When I have to suction you to keep you comfortable. When you cry in your sleep at the unfairness of your disease, we cry with you.
Your momma's heart soars as high as the stars when you smile and talk to us. You teach us that no matter what life deals you, you can still smile. No matter how unfair life can be, you can still love and be loved.
Merry Christmas Gabrielle. Thank you for bringing to life the Christmas spirit in our family.
We love you.
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| Happy girl |
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| Cuddles with Daddy |
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| Tired daddy Christmas morning |
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| Merry Christmas |
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Bearing Up Under the Strain
My paternal Grandfather, who drove a tank for the English Royal Guards in WWII, moved his family to Canada in the 1950s to provide them with a better life, had 5 kids, rose the ranks of the Edmonton Police Department, and remained happily married for well over 50 years... this Grandfather of mine had many sayings that became mantras in my mind.
One of my favourites was in response to someone else's greeting of "How are you doing?" and he would always say "Well, I've nothing to complain about, and if I did, you wouldn't want to hear it."
In the last 10 years of his life he watched his wife slowly deteriorate from Alzheimer's disease. He spent every day with her for those 10 years. Even when his drivers license was taken away he still bussed the 2 miles (in wind and rain) every morning to be there to feed her lunch, then he bussed home for an afternoon nap, and then bussed back to be there for 4pm to feed her dinner and tuck her into bed for the night. He did this for all those years until she passed away, and for the final couple years, he himself was failing due to Alzheimer's as well. His whole life he always said, "It's a good life if you don't weaken," but in the last couple years he confided, "I think I might be weakening Regan."
My Grandpa definitely had a lot to complain about. But I never once heard him complain about Grandma and having to take care of her. And the nurses who saw him every day attested that they never once heard him complain either. He would say, "She took care of me my whole life, the least I can do is take care of her now."
If anything, and near the end, his reply of "I've nothing to complain about" was sometimes accompanied with a sigh, but he knew enough to know that no one wanted to hear his complaints.
Complaining.
On the one hand, there are those people who really have nothing to complain about, yet they do at every chance they get. They'll go on a fantastic trip somewhere and when they recount it afterwards to friends, the first things they talk about are how wet and rainy it was, how noisy and busy the cities were, how tiring it was, how bad the food was, and on and on. Why, then, I ask myself when I listen to these people, do you go on trips in the first place?
The parenting networks that I've stumbled upon are ripe with this type of complaining too. "My kids won't let me sleep in!" "Oh no, my kids are sick and won't go to sleep." "I never get to go out any more." "I'm so busy!" And on and on. Sometimes I wonder if the whole point of the network is to complain about parenting and validate other people's complaints (as well as upload and compliment one another's pictures). Are they losing site of the forest for the trees?
On the other hand, there are those who really do have things to complain about, but choose not to. They choose not to tell people about the bullying they were victims of in school, the friend(s) whose company they miss since the car accident, the challenges that come with raising a special needs child, or the grief they feel in watching their spouse pass. These are real things to complain about! It's ironic, however, when faced with a real adversity, people often realize that complaining is not going to help the situation at all. It's only going to make it worse.
It's been my experience since having Gabrielle and giving her as much love as we can in her short little life, and in meeting so many other people enduring similar situations, that people who are coping with serious pain and sorrow tend not to complain about their pain and sorrow. Maybe this is because their experiences have helped them understand a simple truth that we have only recently come to learn: life is difficult.
When you live through a tragedy, the loss of someone dear, or some other life-altering adversity, you learn this beautiful lesson: life is difficult.
It's one thing to complain about the weather, the traffic, or "the problem with movies these days," the latter being my Grandpa's most common complaint. But it's quite another to complain about life being difficult. I'm not saying that complaining about life being difficult is a bad thing; you can complain about this fact all you like! I'm just saying that life is difficult, so you're complaining about something that can't be changed.
In other words, once you realize that life is difficult, you realize that there's nothing really to complain about in the first place. You free yourself by surrendering yourself to this fact.
Life is not meant to be easy. We all are, as my Grandpa Billy used to say, "Bearing up under the strain." The least we can do is try to make the most of it.
One of my favourites was in response to someone else's greeting of "How are you doing?" and he would always say "Well, I've nothing to complain about, and if I did, you wouldn't want to hear it."In the last 10 years of his life he watched his wife slowly deteriorate from Alzheimer's disease. He spent every day with her for those 10 years. Even when his drivers license was taken away he still bussed the 2 miles (in wind and rain) every morning to be there to feed her lunch, then he bussed home for an afternoon nap, and then bussed back to be there for 4pm to feed her dinner and tuck her into bed for the night. He did this for all those years until she passed away, and for the final couple years, he himself was failing due to Alzheimer's as well. His whole life he always said, "It's a good life if you don't weaken," but in the last couple years he confided, "I think I might be weakening Regan."
My Grandpa definitely had a lot to complain about. But I never once heard him complain about Grandma and having to take care of her. And the nurses who saw him every day attested that they never once heard him complain either. He would say, "She took care of me my whole life, the least I can do is take care of her now."If anything, and near the end, his reply of "I've nothing to complain about" was sometimes accompanied with a sigh, but he knew enough to know that no one wanted to hear his complaints.
Complaining.
On the one hand, there are those people who really have nothing to complain about, yet they do at every chance they get. They'll go on a fantastic trip somewhere and when they recount it afterwards to friends, the first things they talk about are how wet and rainy it was, how noisy and busy the cities were, how tiring it was, how bad the food was, and on and on. Why, then, I ask myself when I listen to these people, do you go on trips in the first place?
The parenting networks that I've stumbled upon are ripe with this type of complaining too. "My kids won't let me sleep in!" "Oh no, my kids are sick and won't go to sleep." "I never get to go out any more." "I'm so busy!" And on and on. Sometimes I wonder if the whole point of the network is to complain about parenting and validate other people's complaints (as well as upload and compliment one another's pictures). Are they losing site of the forest for the trees?
On the other hand, there are those who really do have things to complain about, but choose not to. They choose not to tell people about the bullying they were victims of in school, the friend(s) whose company they miss since the car accident, the challenges that come with raising a special needs child, or the grief they feel in watching their spouse pass. These are real things to complain about! It's ironic, however, when faced with a real adversity, people often realize that complaining is not going to help the situation at all. It's only going to make it worse.
It's been my experience since having Gabrielle and giving her as much love as we can in her short little life, and in meeting so many other people enduring similar situations, that people who are coping with serious pain and sorrow tend not to complain about their pain and sorrow. Maybe this is because their experiences have helped them understand a simple truth that we have only recently come to learn: life is difficult.
When you live through a tragedy, the loss of someone dear, or some other life-altering adversity, you learn this beautiful lesson: life is difficult.
It's one thing to complain about the weather, the traffic, or "the problem with movies these days," the latter being my Grandpa's most common complaint. But it's quite another to complain about life being difficult. I'm not saying that complaining about life being difficult is a bad thing; you can complain about this fact all you like! I'm just saying that life is difficult, so you're complaining about something that can't be changed.
In other words, once you realize that life is difficult, you realize that there's nothing really to complain about in the first place. You free yourself by surrendering yourself to this fact.
Life is not meant to be easy. We all are, as my Grandpa Billy used to say, "Bearing up under the strain." The least we can do is try to make the most of it.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Snapshots from Fall 2012
Here are some more pictures from this fall that I took on my iPhone
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| James in cockpit meeting captain on way to see family in Grand Prairie. |
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| Jimmy, Mickey, and their cousins from Alberta shovelling snow in mid-October in Grand Prairie. |
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| Charlie, Emma, Mickey, James, and Alana in GP. |
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| Gabby and Daddy. |
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| Big strong Jonathan. Amazing how healthy babies know exactly what to do stay alive. Now, I too, quietly smile when I see (or read on FB) parents of healthy kids freaking out when they get sick, get needles, or fall down. They're healthy!! |
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| James and Gabrielle on family walk near home. |
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| Gabrielle absolutely mesmerized by the running water and ducks swimming. I'll never forget this moment. |
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