Sing You Home.

I don't know how to deal with this season. The assumption from everyone, particularly those who don't know my history, and that segment is getting larger, as it is two year now since my little brother died, is that is his a joyful season. Only it's really not, it's a season of grieving.

Grieving is the strangest emotion, because it can coexist silently with the rest of my life for months. I notice if I'm particularly sad, or particularly happy or angry, but grief just steals into the background and I don't notice until I'm ready to beat my head off of walls in desperation and fury. Because no, grief doesn't just mean tears. At least not for me. I get angry.

This would be because my default emotion whenever I don't agree with the way something is going is to get mad. As I am not the high queen of the world and things often do not follow my grand plan, I am mad frequently. Which means I don't really need more anger in my life. Particularly here- it neither helps nor honours the person I'm grieving for if I am ready to attack the world at any moment.

Only I don't know how to not be angry. It's such a fast reaction to get into, and it's so much safer than lying myself open to the rest of the world so they can trample on me. All well-meaningly, of course.

This month will be an exercise in trying to cool down. So far I've primarily failed at that, but today this song helped. And it's lovely, even if you don't have grief/anger problems.

"Though he is not far from every one of us, for in him we live, and move, and have our being."

Yesterday a lady and her little boy came into the bank, and came to my wicket. The little boy had big brown eyes, close cropped hair, and a big grin. And he was on the skinny side, for a boy of about three. I nearly called him Gid three times in the five minutes he was sitting on my counter looking at everything. Thankfully his voice was very cutesy, which did not help the resemblance to my little brother, otherwise I might have started bawling.

It's been a little over six months since my little brother's death, and I keep finding myself at odd moments just staring at something, saying; "Why? Why? He'd be five, learning how to read- why? None of my college friends ever even got to meet him. Why? I just don't understand. It doesn't make sense! He's supposed to be charming every woman of every age with his big long-lashed eyes and beautiful grin. It doesn't make sense." 

I miss him a lot. And I look forward to seeing him again, whenever God sees fit to take me home. Silly boy had to jump the line ahead of his big sister.

Anyways.

I've also been seeing a lot of information about George Tiller on the news. If you haven't heard, he is an abortion doctor who was recently murdered. Specifically, the clinics which he owned and made his living off of performed late-term, or partial-birth, abortions, which is "the termination of a viable fetus." I have not looked into it, but I doubt that Dr. Tiller or his family, including his two physician daughters, were hard off for money. Given that he was contributing campaign money to the eventual Health Secretary, I have a great deal of doubt in that direction.

And I am finding it very hard not to simply decide that justice has been served with his "murder."

This man has reported the termination of over 2600 viable fetuses since 1998. To rephrase, he has supported himself and his family on the profits of making sure that more two thousand and six hundred human beings that were capable of surviving outside of the womb were unable to survive. So roughly one every regular business day.

This makes me very angry.

However, keeping very firmly in my mind the verse which says "Vengeance is mine, sayth the LORD, I will repay," I will concede that it is wrong to take justice into my own hands. I should not go out and kill abortion providers, and that goes for all of you too. Another "why?" moment.

And here's the kicker. Dr. Tiller was shot in church, where he was serving as an Usher. His wife sung in the choir. Possibly still sings, though I don't know and don't particularly care. He professed to be a Christian. He had to believe he was doing the right thing, I can't see someone living through continual death threats and hate mail for years for something he thought was wrong, or simply because there was good money in it.

So am I going to meet Dr. Tiller and Gid both, when I go home? My little brother who loved Cars and the man who is survived by his wife, four children and ten grandchildren? And will he meet 2600 little souls he sent to meet their maker? I just don't know. It's too much for me to understand, to get my head around. This is why I am not judge, jury and executioner, I suppose. Justice, Death and Life are just too much for me. But I do believe there is someone who can comprehend, someone both merciful and just, and someone who will has forgiven my murderous leanings, my pride and my self-righteousness. Among many other things.

Lord I believe, forgive thou mine unbelief.

"Just Get Me Through December"

My little brother died yesterday. He was four years old, and too much joy to be contained. 

And I just don't know anything. The world is different, that's for sure. Maybe I've grow up a little more, maybe I'm still in shock and denial, but I certainly don't look at life in the same way. Life- both the living of it and the fact of morality, has taken on a different aspect. 

Because my little brother is no longer here, and everything reminds me of him in some way. He loves blue, and kinder eggs, and cars, and the whole wild world. He gives his full attention to whatever he is doing, oh my little brother. 

No, I'm not using the present tense by accident. I believe- no, I don't believe, I know, that he's in a better place. He has no more pain, no more uncertainty, no more tears. He's free. And for him, we'll see him tomorrow. We just have a longer tomorrow to get through than he does. 

His death was peaceful, and even the days and hours before were free of stress for him. I have a mental snapshot from the day before, which encapsulates the hospital time for me. Gid was sleeping, and had been all day, and I was just watching him from across the room. Snow was falling. There was only one small light on in the room, so it was getting darker as night fell. A fan caused the curtains to brush against each other, and the IV pump made small popping noises every couple of seconds. Daddy was playing acoustic guitar, and Mommy and Fraulein and I listened to him and to Gid breathing. It was an incredible span of time. There was so much sorrow and so much joy, somehow held side by side. 

The strange thing is that I really still can't take it in. My mind keeps trying to segment my memory, saying that that wasn't Gid, my little brother is still somewhere around here, and I'm going to poke my head around a corner and see him sleeping. It's so strange. I'll probably be trying to fit my head around it for quite some time. Years, most likely. 

Anyhow, that's my big news. And if you thought my sense of humour was dark and twisted before, you might want to avoid me from now on. 

Note: I've been trying to write this for a little while. Please ignore the continuity error. 

His strength is made perfect in weakness.

It has swiftly, though not unexpectedly, come up that the family is going into St. John's. I'm not sure how long we'll be there, or how much internet access I'll have. For those who I've not been able to tell "personally" over the internet, I'll miss you, and have a great Christmas.

Oh, and I fail at mailing, and spent too much time looking at gifts instead of sending them, so your presents will be VERY late. I'm sorry.

*waves and disappears*

"Come on, come on, put your hand into the fire. Explain, explain..."

Due to my rather sad incoherence lately, which makes me cringe to think of, I shall try very hard to make this post contain something resembling logic. "Try" being the operative word, I am afraid. 

I commence!

I am currently wearing four shirts. Yes. Four (4). This is due to the fact that people keep giving me them. First of all, Fraulein gave me two lovely ones yesterday, designed to be layered. Therefore I decided to wear them today along with the charming brown pants Gid picked out for me. Mommy said he first found a short, printed bright green housecoat. She steered him away from that, whereupon he gravitated to a low cut pink and white striped shirt. (He is four, after all). Mommy disentangled him from that one, where he found these pants. Which are a signal success, actually. (They are soft and have cool buttons, hence his choice of them.) So I was wearing my new outfit today, when I was given a free t-shirt to wear to the Relay for Life. As it wasn't hot out, I just put the shirt on over top of my current wardrobe. One ill-fitting t-shirt over regular clothes= One volunteer uniform. Fraulein and I, in appropriate volunteer garb, were helping out with children's activities. This was made extra interesting by the fact that we were working with groups of mixed ages and sexes. I tell you, anyone who says that there is no significant difference between girls and boys is seriously deluded. Possibly on drugs. Fraulein and I, used to working with little girls, unwisely let one of the boys be "Simon" in Simon Says. As our first game. The first thing the little dervish said? 

"Simon says Armpit Fart!"

Right. Um, some people don't know how to do that. So why don't you try another one? He ponder this, and then comes up with a different command. 

"Simon says run up the ramp and come back and hit me in the face!"

Takes "cruin' for a bruisin'" to a new level, eh? By the way, I'm not honouring the child with the appellation "dervish" based solely on the Simon Says incident. There were other events. With witnesses. Anyhow, after our volunteer time was nearly over Fraulein and I were each given another t-shirt. It was even less hot then. Hence the four shirts as current outfit components. (I know I'm extra riveting today. Hush. I'm working on re-growing coherence and logic neurons.)

The birthday yesterday was lovely. Since the Relay was today, and as a result the family would be occupied most of my actual birthday day, we celebrated yesterday. We had a formal dress-up dinner. Slonner was demonstrating the twirling action of her skirt before the dinner. Mark my words, if that girl ever takes ballroom dancing she will devastate anyone within range. Totally maul the opposition, in truth. The meal was delicious, and the company was well dressed and charming. Then we opened gifts, some of which I have already mentioned. I should mention another one at this point simply because it is so very noteworthy. My parents, whom I rise up and call blessed, said that they would pay the difference in my saving and the computer I had picked out. Blessed, I tell you. 

Then we played Duck Duck Goose, as is tradition. And this time we ALL played, which was fun. There was also a scavenger hunt and musical chairs, where I, forgetting I was wearing weapons on my feet, trod rather heavily on Daddy's foot. After a particularly hotly contested game of musical chairs Daddy was in fact forced to sit out and be the judge of the scavenger hunt. Which my team lost, even though the other team had a math CORRECTION book, instead of math book. But since I am a just and merciful birthday girl, and do not misuse my awesome power, I did not raise a big fuss about this blatant deception on the part of my nefarious siblings. Also no one was listening. 

Then Frualein and I watched Stardust in the evening. All in all, a marvelous celebration. Fraulein and I have had rather a lot of movie-watching incidents lately. I'm not going to go back and count them, since I'm lazy, but I'm pretty sure it's a lot. We also watched a couple of episodes of Avatar this morning. That was amusing, since she has been rather politely and patiently tolerant of my delight in the show in the past. So today I sat down and said, "we're going to watch the first episode. The beginning of it, at least. We can stop in eight minutes or so." She is silent (implies consent! See, I did learn something from my first aid course!) and the watching commences. We get through the introduction and one half scene. She pipes up "I don't think we're going to be able to stop this!" *grins* NO, this is not gloating. It's just happiness. Right. Happiness. 

"My pursuit of information knows no shame."

Day: 6
Date: 23/07/08
Event: Animal Kingdom and More

Today I entered and exited 3 theme parks, rode 3 monorails and 2 buses, ate in 1 restaurant, took 2 taxis and 6 rides. I also saw an ant-eater, discussed the mindset and propaganda machine that is the Disney entity, and drank three cups of coffee. Oh, and I saw a cute guy in the line behind me in Dinoland.

The day's plan of attack;

• Arrive at Animal Kingdom with Family, Split up
• Ride the two rides in Dinoland USA. (ish)
• Meaner over to "Asia" and ride Expedition Everest. (awesome)
• Book it out of the park and take a bus to Epcot.
• Sidle along to Mexico and eat lunch, pausing for a discussion of Pleasure, Pain, and Utility.
• March out of Epcot and take two monorail to Magic Kingdom.
• Fight our way over to Tomorrowland, ride Indy Speedway. (meh)
• Be sucked into Space Mountain. (great)
• Persevere across the park into Splash Mountain. (good)
• Elbow our way out of Magic Kingdom, stopping to buy ice cream from a bearded woman from Hati.
• Gawk at an amazing barbershop quartet by the gate.
• Take a monorail and a bus back to Animal Kingdom.
• Meet up with Mommy, Daddy and the small ones.
• Taxi to the Hotel.
• Order in Chinese food and discuss the jaw-dropping efficiency and pervasiveness of Disney.

And now some quotes from the past 6 days.

Walrus's idea of smalltalk: "Oh, I just noticed! Your legs are really hairy!"

Gail (A nurse back home): "Mickey loves everyone, even if you haven't met him before."
Daddy: "Actually, Mickey is just an actor in a plastic suit. And he's probably dying of heat stroke, which is why his smile is painted on."

Person 1 in line: "And when you have the whole Big Mac meal, it's over a thousand calories."
Person 2: "Don't think about that! You only die once, so you may as well enjoy yourself."

Taxi Driver: "And after 9/11 none of the Americans were flying, so the Brits kept this town alive. Of course, they're used to fighting the NRA, so Al Queda was no biggie."

Gid, with a big grin; "I ate you!"

Gid: "I have lightning shoes!"

Me, draping myself over a balcony: "I'm going into Internet withdrawal."

Walrus: "I'm drinking jelly beans!"

Mommy: "Well, Gid saw a dragonfly, Lacey saw a Giraffe, and Snazel saw a cute guy; so the day was a success."

Daddy: "This whole experience is the kind of thing which requires years of prior conditioning- which we don't have. Which might be why we're a little skeptical of the $20 pirate mouse ears."

Sam, riding down the freeway. "Car! Car! Car! Car! Car! Car?"
PT: "No, that's a truck."
Sam: "Oh. Truck! Truck! Truck! Truck!"

"Dr. Who did not help that experience to be more reassuring."

Day: 5
Date: 22/07/08
Event: Hollywood Studios

This experience is very fun, but my tendency towards cynicism in not lessening. In Epcot there is a general feeling of Quality to the structures, or at least of solidity. But Here the whole idea is that it is movie sets, so it all rings slightly false. :D Hah! I mean, false even after the significant suspension of disbelief required for a theme park. :P

We started the day with Star Tours; a Star Wars Themed ride. It was quite fun, but we realised afterwards that Slonner and Walrus have not seen the movies, which made it slightly incomprehensible for them. They still enjoyed it, however, so all was not lost. After emergence from that ride, we were off to meet Lightening McQueen!

This was the thing Gid actually wished for. And I don't know- when you have a 4 year-old palliative patient who has had a rush wish (which means he doesn't have a lot of time,) come to visit, wouldn't you try to do something special for him? A meeting in Lightning's Garage? Five minutes uninterrupted? A sticker pack? That was what I was expecting. What we got was jumped to the front of the line to get our picture taken with Lighting and Mater. Two minutes, tops, in the middle of the public square, with other people crowding in for their turn, and music blaring.

Now, Gid was still delighted. When I asked later what he did today he said that "I saw Lightening and Mater- and touched them!" I, on the other hand, wanted to punch something. Hard. Broken glass and blood, please. Bah, I believed the Disney propaganda, which is always a dangerous thing. I've just got a jaded soul and Gid is so cute it hurts. I was holding him while we were waiting for Lightning, and he is so thin. Such delicate hands. His eyes are huge, and when he grins he's infused with happiness. You beam to look at him. Mommy bought him Lightning McQueen shoes last night, and he was delighted with the. And the thing with Gid is that when you use words like "delight," "joy," and "beam," it is the perfect truth. Even with all he's been through, he is so full of life and happiness. My little brother is an amazing little boy. I wish I could see the man he would be. I have been truly blessed to be his big sister for 4 years.

[Here I broke off to bawl in the bathroom for 10 minutes]

Anyhow, the day. We went on a number or other rides, but probably the most noteworthy were the Tower of Terror and Rocking Roller Coaster. The Tower of Terror, because of the, (yes,) terror it inspired. The title is my reaction after we staggered out. The Rocking Roller Coaster is worthy of note because of its truly impressive wait line. ToT was fun, I'll say, but I have no interest in doing it again. Been there, done that, sneered at the t-shirt. Seriously, why are all the good snarky t-shirts in guy's sizes only? Even if perchance they have an acceptable design, it's on a pink background!

I don't do pink. I am the anti-pink. Pink is against my beliefs. So why do half of all female t-shirts have to be on that accursed colour? *bites a pillow* This is me, not impressed.

And on the subject of t-shirts, Fraulein and I noticed a distinguishing feature of Brazilian girls while in the interminable line for the RRC. There are a lot of groups of teenage tours from Brazil, all with official t-shirts. And the girls, almost without fail, have modified their shirts. The modifications range from "falling off the shoulder," to "sleeveless," to "bikini top." I didn't know you could fashion a bikini out of a t-shirt, but these girls manage it.

Overall, today was another very fun day, and I'm becoming acclimatised and accustomed, but I don't think I'd fork out my own money for another ticket.

Can we go ride the train? Can we?

Day: 2
Date: 19/07/08
Event: To Toronto

We made it to the mainland! The little girls went from exclaiming over the size of the St. John's airport and begging to ride the elevator- to riding a monorail between terminals in Toronto and swimming in the pool, (which is part of the hotel (which is part of the airport)). I think they're having a good time.

We had breakfast in the St. John's hotel this morning, which for our family costs a whopping $100.00, and headed off to the airport. The lady at the check-in was rather surprised to see that among 12 people only 5 piece of luggage were checked, but what can I say? We're a special family. We also almost all managed to be carrying gels or liquids in our carry-ons, so we had to pull the convoy over and repack the lip balm, toothpaste, etc. But everyone made it through check-in and security without incident-

and then Gid dropped his boarding his pass down the heating vent. Hmmmmmm.... Thankfully Daddy worked his usual wonders in convincing people behind counters, and a new boarding pass was printed for him. *sigh of relief*

The actual flight was pleasantly uneventful. And far from being Delayed, we arrived 10 minutes early! We were flying Air Canada, so I was, understandably I think, skeptical of that happening. On the flight I watched Vantage Point, which was a very enjoyable movie. However, there was a large enough body count that I don't think I'd watch it at home. But it was good. I just especially liked the little news blurb at the end, which was entirely not what had happened. *glee* My devious soul was pleased within me.

Once we had landed the pilots of the plane allowed all the little ones, and even the big ones of our family to sit in the cockpit and pose for pictures. But that thrill was almost overshadowed by the sheer magnitude of Toronto Airport. Moving sidewalks! Massive Hallways! Escalators! Baggage carousals! And- the biggest thrill- a monorail train to our hotel. I think we were all thrilled with that train. And I want one for my own. It was all futuristic glass and private compartments, zipping over highways and parking garages. There wasn't even a driver, it was completely automated. *wistful sigh*

Right. Yes. *cough* So, we checked into the hotel, which is quite sumptuous, and scouted out the terminal next door. Was this just an excuse to ride the train? Um, yes. :P However, we did find a little food court which we then returned to, with Daddy and the money, for supper.

I am writing this by the side of the pool, as the official Adult which allows my non-adult siblings to swim. I was a spoilsport and didn't swim. :D Now the young ones are going up to bed, and PT, Fraulein and myself are going to ride the train again and check out the bustling Toronto night life. (We're going to the food court for Frozen Yogurt.)

Ciao!

Cannot lead water downhill. Not recommended for Promotion.

We're off!

Tomorrow, that is. The mega-sized super-rush wish has come together, and we're heading into St. John's tomorrow. Mega-sized, that is, because there are 12 people participating, where 6 is a large group normally. They are only for family, and your average family, let's face it, is not going to overfill a mini-van. And Super-rush, (yes, I know, I am really excelling myself with the appellations today. I'm tired, get over it. :P), because it has taken less than two weeks to get the whole thing arranged and started. Usually families will know what they are doing months in advance. Us, not so much. We decided that we were going soon on last Monday. And from there it snowballed.

For example, we put in our passport applications on Monday, they printed them on Tuesday, and they were picked up on Wednesday. Usually it takes 6 to 8 weeks. Two days, vs. 6 weeks. *ponders*

We're going to be gone for ten days, with fully half of that travel. :P No, it is not Easy-Peasy to get to other places from where I live. Jumping on the daily flight to New York is not an option. Anyhow, I'm going to go in in the morning with Fraulein, Slonner, Gid and Daddy, as Gid needs a blood transfusion before he travels. He therefore needs to get into the Janeway in the morning, and us girls will have the run on St. John's for most of the day. We are desolated. Especially seeing as Wall-e and Prince Caspian are both possibly still playing in theaters, and St. John's has a theatre.

At this point I sense laughter mingled with skepticism from those people who are near theatres, but I shall point out that we are four hours drive away from any theatre. So the chance to see a movie six months before DVD is big. And yes, I also know that you can watch the movies online still as they are in theatres, but I also know watching them is illegal, and I am trying very hard to resist. :D

I'll see you in August!

That's the thing about living...

Several things of note have happened since I last posted. My brother PT was home for the weekend, which was lovely. We watched Stranger than Fiction, which I would watch again, and Nacho Libre, which I wouldn't. :D No, it wasn't that bad, just, not my cuppa tea. The American version of "humiliate the main character" humour is not something I find funny most of the time. I say American, because I find Fawlty Towers hilarious, and Chef (the first episodes), and that humour is not the gentle kind, I'm afraid. Anyhow, I also loved the special effect at the beginning of STF, where Harold's life is being narrated, and white explanatory symbols keep popping up while he does things. Hmmm, that was a stunningly bad description. If you've seen it, hopefully you'll know what I'm talking about.

So that was the weekend. Then on Sunday Mommy and Daddy and Gideon went to St. John's for Gideon's assessment. If the drug was working, they would continue treatment, and be back on Saturday. However, they came back on Monday evening. The drug wasn't working. It was the last treatment option. So as soon as they came through the front door, I knew what had happened. It's funny. This doesn't come as a surprise, but it still hits very hard. The world feels curiously unreal, so that I'm not quite sure how people and things will react this time. I suppose that is from the fact that some people do react differently to me, and also since death is such an incomprehensible thing. What was that quote? "Death is an insult to life. We rage against the cessation of existence." So when it is obviously inevitable, and previously known, the foundations which direct your actions are shaken ever so slightly.

My mind has been working constantly since Monday evening. It's as though I have about four levels of thought going on at any one time, and as soon as one is resolved I fall through into another one. Yes, if there was any doubt about how I react to emotion, it's rapidly disappearing. I analyze. Given that I'm also rather tired from work, I don't necessarily analyze very efficiently, but still I pull apart my reactions and look at them from new angles all day.

Its interesting. From my past experiences, some things which would really freak out other people I can view completely sanguine. For example, I can look at the spectre of living without hot water, or lights, or an oven, without undue distress. I mean, I would grumble, but still, I know it's perfectly doable. If my dad was to say tomorrow that we were moving across the country, or out of the county, next week, I would be excited and looking forward to the new place. This is probably due to the fact that I had my first cross-continental move at 6 weeks of age, and my first intercontinental move when I was two. By my family always came along. Even when I moved out on my own I knew what was happening at home to an extant.

But the death of a family member is something completely outside of my experience, and it's weird. You have to keep living, without them. WEIRD. The doctors say that we won't have him for Christmas. He won't see his fifth birthday. Not learn to read. Not have kids. Not be taller than me. Not... Oh my. But the Doctors have also said that they will give him the finest drugs out there, and it won't be painful for him. Not everyone is so lucky, I suppose. I do believe that God has this ordained. Gideon's cancer did not take place because God looked away for a moment, or Satan won the coin toss. It was planned, and Gideon has lived and will live the exact life that was laid out for him. And he has a happy life, despite the needles and procedures. He's a lovely cheerful boy, though I won't get to introduce him to my classmates, I guess. I'm rambling. :D no good to hover in that line of thought. Okay.

Anyhow, one of the things that has changed in the plans is that Gideon's Wish is taking place at the end of this month. He wants to ride Snot Rod, from cars, so we'll probably go to Disney World. The details are being finalised today, actually. I was voting for Disneyland, in the hope that I could meet up with Third World somewhere, (It's only a 13 hour drive. NOTHING! :D) but it appears that my devious plots will not come to fruition. I guess, since it's supposed to be family thing, I shouldn't go gallivanting off to meet my friends, but come on! It's THIRD WORLD! :D

Oh, one more thing before I go. As we'll be going out of country for the wish, we all have to have current passports. So we've been filling out forms madly, and on Tuesday we went into Gander to have out pictures taken. On the way out of town, my carload received a phone call from Daddy. The photographer at Wal-mart had just called, and we weren't allowed to wear white, black, or sleeveless shirts for our picture. (No one knows why...) This is where things started going pear shaped, since I was wearing a white shirt.

Once we get to Wal-mart, the photographer lady informs us that my shirt is indeed white, not cream, as I was hoping, and I would have to find another shirt. Cue me descending on the markdown racks. I grab five shirts whose colours I like, and dash off to the changing rooms. Of the five summer shirts, four were cut low enough, that, let's just say that they were showing skin that never sees the light of day. Just basic summer tops, too. Odd. But the fifth was decent, and it had some kind of strange ribbing on the shoulder and neck. I looked at it and thought it looks kind of deviantart-ish. Sea nymph webbing style. I'll take it! And yes, most of the clothing I own that I really like was chosen for its character inspiration qualities. For example, I am currently wearing my assassin shirt. :D But Fraulein said that it looks medieval, and nice, so fear not!

I buy the shirt, and arrive at the photographer, after quick-changing in the bathroom. I sit down on the stool, and the photographer starts to have a hard time getting the camera to work. She, with a grin, says that the camera just doesn't like me. I grin in response, and the picture is finally taken. On the way back in the car, Mommy and I realise that she spoke truth in more ways than one. That was a BAD picture. Incredibly bad. I mean, I never need fear that I will look worse that my passport photo. I could be totally hungover and I'll still look fresh and alert next to that picture. It takes bad to a whole new level. The nice new shirt is hardly visible, and every trick of the light works against me to open up a new realm of awful.

Oh, you say, it can't be that bad.

It can.

I look like a sleazy drug addict. Greasy stringy hair; check. Unsteady posture; check. Glazed eyes that don't quite line up; check. (I had to take off my glasses, and couldn't really see the camera.) Nasty molestache; check. Unnatural pallor; check. Bad skin; check. Shadows under the eyes; check.

This is not a good photo.

And I live with it for five years...

"You did say you wanted your hair to be short, right?"

First, a quote from work on Monday

Unknown guy: (to my co-worker, who is a friend of his) "Like my new lip stud?"

Co-worker: "What? That's no jewellery! You go to kiss your girl an you'll stab'er!"

Work overall went well. Drice thru does seem to make the time past a little faster, just becuase you have to consentrate so hard to make up what they mean. Like this order.

"I wants a double mac meal nar cheese onions double pickles Sprite girltoy happy nuggets with white milk three custard cones."

And he's gone, leaving me gaping at the screen. And yes, the lack of punctuation is also deliberate. At any rate, the day went well, and then I had the next three days blissfully off. 

Tuesday was the day of the Brownie/Guide/Spark/Pathfinder banquet, which I went to as a guest. It was fun, though I think I found a number of the speeches funny when they weren't supposed to be. "All the leaders are important. No one is more important than anyone other. But I have to tell you, the most important leader is the Unit Guider. The work she puts in..." And there's me, grinning like a loon in the middle of the room. 

All of the groups performer an entertainment each, which were quite good, considering. The Sparks,( 5-6) as always, got by on getting cute, but the Brownies (7-8) had a fun dance. The Guides (9 -11) had a song/skit which had enthusiastic participation, which is rare. And the Pathfinders, (12 -15) who are usually too cool to put any kind of effort in, turned up with a prepared song including guitar and accordion accompaniment, which was quite unexpected.

In addition, the organizers of the banquet had put out a ice-cream tub for donations for Gid. Everyone in town knows about him, and with him now being in Toronto for treatment, the concern has only grown. They asked me to come up to the mic (in front of about 300 people) and give a little talk about how he was doing. Which I did, heart in my mouth. They had warned me earlier that they wanted me to talk about how he was doing, and then in the introduction the MC mentioned that she really didn't understand what Gid was doing in Toronto, and she hoped I could explain it. Oh my, how do I say this so that I don't panic the children? They're eating, for goodness sake! But I stumbled through, and my sister Fraulein said later that I did a good job. *sigh of relief* 

They raised $141, in the course of the evening. No prior warning to the attendees, just a bucket by the door. We really do live in a remarkable place. We also came home with most of the leftovers from the banquet, which makes my job of cooking that much easier. :D

I had a protracted series of confrontations with my brother Trapezoid today, beginning with him cable-tieing his sisters, and ending with my shaving his head. 

*wide grin*

That makes it sound much worse than it actually was, I just couldn't resist that line.

The confrontations of note started with me washing dishes, and having it brought to my attention that, at their request, Trapezoid had fashioned hand-cuffs out of cable ties for his sisters. Discussion ensues of how it is never appropriate to cable tie your smaller siblings. Tempers are lost. I go down to apologies and explain why seeing the small ones with their hands and feet restrained pushes my panic button. He is reading a western book instead of his school book. TV time is taken away, and writing is started. An hour later, more discussion ensues over what is considered the proper amount of writing for a 13 year old to be turning out. He's saying that a 49 word quote and 18 words of original commentary is enough. I'm holding out for 250 words minimum, of which no more than 100 are a quote. I win this one. During supper, he remember that his cadet inspection is coming up, and he needs a hair cut. 

I will take this opportunity to point out that I have never cut hair.

He does need a hair cut, though. I pull out the trimmers. We can only find one attachment, so we decide to go with a one-length cut. I start the trimmers, who buzz alarmingly. I start carving chunks of his hair out. Just as I get it to a tolerable "mushroom cut" stage, the cutters start making a different note and neglecting to cut the hair, so I have to resort to the scissors. I thank God he didn't need any styling, just short. And it's short now.

No, actually, I'm rather pleased with the cut. It's not lumpy unless he stands with his head just right in the light, and with the cadet cap on he looks quite sharp. *is proud* 

That is a normal amount of drama in a day with Trapezoid, really. And I didn't include the minor confrontations. :D

"So I'm going to apologize for that..."

Apparently, as they drove away from the hospital this morning, Gid sighed and said 

I'm glad that's over.

He's spent a ridiculous amount of time in the hospital, and it's getting just a little old. But he's back home now. Yay! That also means that Mommy and Daddy are home, and I am no longer in charge. YAY!!!!!!!!!!! :D

I still have a cold, however, so I am wearing a mask as not to infect Gid or the other small ones. It's surprisingly menacing. All I need is a pipe, and I'd be a proper gangster! *coughs* Right. MOVING on.

This morning I got a call from the people who run the grant program though which I hope to get a job at the Library. The questions they wanted answered were almost funny, they were so much what I had expected. "What are your career goals?" "Where are you going to university?" "Have you been accepted at a university?" I seem to remember predicting that those questions would be sticking points when I filled in the application. Salute me for a prophetess! :D However, I predicted that for the reason that I always seem to come up against these questions, and I am never able to give a standard answer. I am beginning to think I never will. Ah, who even wants to be normal? I certainly don't!

Then I got a call from McDonalds this afternoon. The manager was going to call me yesterday, but she's had "some good days," and she didn't get to it. She said the title, and booked me in for training on Thursday and Friday. I will admit that I am slightly nervous about that. The manager, Wavy, is rather formidable, and there is lots to learn. *bites nails* 

I reassure myself that a touch of nerves will help me stay sharp, and after all I am not brain dead, neither is it rocket science. I should be able to figure out how to keep my head above water soon enough. That's not going to stop me from doing a lot of praying though!

"I'll tell you about our new security system. All our chefs are armed."

The little girls are all now proud owners of lip shaped whistles. They, however, keep forgetting which one belongs to which person, and that has led to some comments rather funny to overhear.

 

"Give me back my lips!"

"Those are my lips!"

"No they aren't, they're mine!"

"Get your hands off my lips!"

And even;

"I like your lips."

Good times with dollar store toys. 

It appears that Gid will be in the hospital for at least 10 days, as his blood cultures area growing something. So, I rule the roost for a while more. *evil smile* I'm become more used to being in charge again, which is good. 

Sam and I are hanging out a lot. (Sam is my three-year old little brother. ) Once supper was prepared yesterday, we were waiting for the others to get back from the park, so I read Crime and Punishment, ( a lovely book), and Sam read over my shoulder for a while. Then I let him listen to one ear of my ipod, which he was most pleased about. 

Here's a bad picture. 

And here's a slightly better one of him at his birthday party. 

And then after everyone went to sleep last night, Mommy and I had a girls' night. We did our nails, and ate chips, and watched Ocean's 11, which is a very fun movie.

"Your body's going through some CHANGES right now..."

For reasons which seemed good at the time, I got up at four yesterday, and then ended up going to bed at 10. My immune system  and body have sent me a message regarding this activity. 

"Oh, Hello. We have an issue. You know how during all the so-called stress at College we kept you disgustingly healthy? You know how you didn't miss a class? That was dependant on you giving us time off; at least 7 hours of sleep a night. We don't mind when you take the time, just so long as you do. This "five hours" thing is stopping now. We mean it. To warn you, we're giving you a sore throat. Don't make us give you a cough,

Concerned Friends."

So, now I am resolved to try not to be TOO insane with the sleep deprivation thing. But, I think I figured out why I keep being drawn to the computer. I mean, aside from the fact that you can do fun things on it, like writing, and reading the news, and writing, and reading blogs, and writing, and reading facebook, and writing stories and writing code and writing blogs. *cough* *wide grin* Anyhow, for the past 8 months at College, I had a quite decent amount of work to do, most of it on the computer. So now in the back of my brain there's an idea that if I'm not reading or on the computer, I'm slacking. 

This is of course not strictly true now that I'm at home. And now that I've pinpointed this, I should be more reasonable about computer time. Maybe. 

In other news, Frauline is off to Town for the Home School Conference this weekend, so I'm in charge when Mommy and Daddy aren't here. And Gid spiked a fever last night, so he's been brought into the Gander hospital, an hour away, and Mommy and Daddy will be taking turns staying with him.

Reposted from my family's blog

My dad wrote the following. Stevie is my mom. That's pretty much all you need to know.

13-April.......It's been one year......

Gideon is sleeping while I write this. He has a bit of a rattle in his lungs, almost a snore. He is getting a good long sleep. It is snowing outside the Hospital window. A Spring snowfall with big flakes that float down without a wind. One year ago Gideon got down off my lap as we went to breakfast. He had been sitting on my knee while I checked my email. As my hand passed over his tummy I felt something very hard just poking out from under his ribcage. Gideon had been having trouble getting over a late Winter flu and so his breathing was a bit "rattley". Stevie had already booked an appointment with our Family Dr. but we decided to go early and wait for the next available opening. The Dr. ordered an X-Ray. Stevie returned to the Dr late in the afternoon to hear the results of the Chest and Abdominal X-Ray. I was working in the studio mixing the song "I Feel So Happy".

Our world changed in one moment.

We have learned the reality of "the new normal". "Normal" changes daily, sometimes hourly, sometimes in a moment (relapse). We are learning to live "in the moment" and trying not to worry about what might happen.

We are learning that God is sovereign, He is Creator, we are created, he is Infinite, we are finite. I do not pretend to know the mind of God. I do understand this. His covenant with His people continues to be kept. He does not change, neither does He falter. In His mercy He saves and protects His own. He has no equal, and He has no opposite, His purpose cannot be thwarted. I am His child.

We have been treated to new friendships. People of compassion, and mercy. People whose careers demand high academic achievement with almost unlimited patience and compassion under, what is sometimes, a crushing emotional burden. I truly wonder how they do it. Friends from "before" have shown why they are friends. We are privileged to count these truly unique and special people as friends. Thank you all.

We do not know what the future holds, but we know who holds the future.

Thank you for sharing this year with us. "A burden shared is a burden halved. A joy shared is a joy doubled"

Christian pop music is like Byzantine iconography. Once they found a formula, they stuck with it!

Yes, so, exams are next week. I am already petrified scared about them. I really don't want to fail, and I have a dreadful suspicion that I haven't been paying near enough attention in classes, so I won't be able to answer any of the questions. *cries*

As a result, I am determinedly not thinking about them, I'm just focusing on the pressing things that need to be done, such as Latin translations for Wednesday, and Dr. Patrick's Term paper for tomorrow, and the Literature Presentation for Thursday, and the Literature Paper for Thursday, and the Scriptures presentation for Thursday. Actually, those are all prepared except the Lit paper and the Latin Translations. I have about half of those both done.

Anyhow, my little brother Gid has an eval on Monday, the day of my Latin and Philosophy exams. The last eval was bad. I'm worried about the results of this one. Even putting aside the fear of if this next eval goes poorly, I"m afraid of how I will be able to deal with if it is bad. I still have 5 more exams after Monday goes by; I can't lose it and spend all my time in prayer.

Now THAT's taking worrying to a new level. Okay, I think I need to take some sleep, and do some more praying. :P

*wanders off*

P.S. Today was our last Philosophy class, and it was 3.5 hours long, on Post-modernism. It was really interesting, but I wish I could have paid attention more. I'm rather fragmented in class. o.O

P.P.S. Everything lately is geared towards arming us to deal with post-modernism. It's mildly amusing since I don't plan to go into a university, and people usually don't talk to me. However, when I get the urge to scoff I must remind myself that I don't know the future, and maybe I will end up having to argue in the defense of objective truth.

I really am going to bed now.

Pray without ceasing

My classmates and I have just held a prayer service for Gid. It was interesting, cause RM, who is Catholic, made up a prayer service with read prayers. We read out the prayers and then did an "improvisational" session. *smile* Some of the written prayers I really liked. Some others not so much... but she apportioned them out well, so no one read a prayer they didn't agree with theologically. I feel very blessed that all of my classmates would agree to come to this, and then most of them would pray personally. I'm in a good place.

On a completely different subject; Third World and I have agreed to write a 50,000 word story in the month of May. After our exams are all over. I write this down so that it may shame me into writing in May. And yes, the title is quite applicable to this part of the post as well.

Meh, it's too hot in here. Some intelligent person decided to put the thermostat in the classroom at 25, instead of the normal 20, or the evening 15. *melting* I'll be witty some other time.

Or not, it all depends.

Not the news we were looking for

My little brother Gid has cancer. He was diagnosed in April, and since then I've almost gotten used to it.

Almost.

Now today he went in for an assessment, (to see if he would need surgery), and they found something new. It's growing, though really nothing should be growing, he's been on chemo for so long, and it's growing fast, comparatively speaking. What it boils down to is that this thing is a different strain. The older strain is reacting well to treatment, the assessment showed it shrinking, but this is new. The Oncologists are "concerned", (on a list of things you don't want your medical provider to say, that has to be up there.) Gid is going in for surgery as soon as they can find a slot for a lung surgery. However, to put things in perspective; when he was fist diagnosed his lungs were so full that the x-ray slides showed white. He was on oxygen in normal life. Now they could take out a full lobe of his lungs and he'd never miss it.

Man, it's hard.

He's so ALIVE, and now this. I just haven't looked at the possibility that he might die for the past 9 months or so, (put it away, we aren't acknowledging that,) and now it's back in my face.

It's funny/interesting/awful reacting to cancer. Because it is such a long treatment program, you really can not postpone your life until "everything is all right." With almost every other type of injury, you can sit by the bedside, drop everything, put your life on hold. until it's resolved. With something that has a 18 month treatment schedule, you can't. And that doesn't even include the assessments after treatment. You have to go on living normally. It goes against human nature. No, that's not entirely true. There are circumstances when the patient is only in treatment for a month or so, and then they stop. When the disease is at one or the other ends of the spectrum. Since Gid presented with so much cancer in April, he will (please God) have a very long treatment plan. You have to go on living all the while.

At the same time, you can't make any long range plans, because things change so fast. Case in point: See above. It makes me very glad that I didn't apply for any colleges over Christmas. I almost did, but in talking it over with my Dad, I realized that I was looking at them for the wrong reasons. Incidentally, I think Lamd, who is looking at English Lit, is also looking at them for the wrong reasons. I almost talked him out of it today.

me: Why do you want to do this?
What will do the most for you?
Could you get that some other way?
Why spend the money? (Cause he doesn't have to count the cost at all.)
Do you want the jobs that piece of paper will allow you?

Good times, harassing Lamd. Anyways, I probably didn't convince him at all, but I did convince myslef not to going something solely for the sake of "doing something." Hey, going to Europe is "doing something", and it costs a whole lot less! At any rate, I have applied for nothing, and now come April I have no commitments. I don't know, the school would understand, I think, if I dropped classes, and headed home to help out sooner. I just don't know.

Still;

God Knows.

Just for cuteness.

My little brothers drinking tea in the kitchen. Lovely!