Yeh... I stole that title from Eminem's "Not Afraid"... and this is why:
There was a time when I would blog about my past, tell my sordid stories of growing up in the inner city of Edmonton and over share WAY too much of my life with anyone who felt comfortable reading about it. I haven't done that for a while, mainly because my life is off limits as far as posting about it (plus you would be bored to fuck reading about my dinner menu or how I purged Lola's room for the 10th time this year, seriously who GIVES a shit about that shit?)
But what I have always been open about is my past, my battle with depression and my grief over losing too many people in my life WAY too soon...
So.
Tonight.http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/edmonton/story/2012/08/08/edmonton-cromdale-torn-down.html I come home from a *shrugs* meh metiocre tweetup only to be thrown into the Tweets of Fire about the demolition of THE CROMDALE. For anyone who knows me or has read my story, you will KNOW what this means to me.
This tweet came through:
Selffop9:07pm via Twitter for iPad
Then, my dear friend Jaimie Clements (who I met three years ago BECAUSE of this whole Cromdale bullshit) sent this: Jaimieclements9:49pm via Web
Watching that building come down brick by brick, layer by layer, I can only equate it to how the Cromdale stripped away my own mom's life. She left her heart and soul in that building 30 years ago.
I remember.
I remember because I watched it happen, layer by layer, brick by brick, and to watch on video the slow, torturous demolition of the Cromdale Hotel was fitting because in so many ways, it reflected how my mother's life was stripped away; slowly, painfully, and layer by layer.
My 10-year-old son came into the kitchen while I watched this video and put his arm around me, asking, "Mom, did you know the people who lived there?"
I smiled through my tears and said, "One day, you will know why I'm crying about this."
He held me tightly and kissed my cheek.
"I love you mom." "Yeh," I said, swatting his ass. "I love you too." I didn't want him to see my pain or question why the demolition of this building he had never seen, meant anything to him. One day he will know what happened to me and why the demolition of the Cromdale Hotel has me in tears at 10:30 p.m., but tonight is not that night.
We all have our demons, our stories, and our baggage; it's what we choose to do with them is what matters.
Lola just came in and saw my twitter stream and said, 'Mom, I came to say goodnight but did you know that YOU ARE FIERCE?" (she says 'fuhse' some sort of accent I can't explain). I said, "Why do you say that??" She pointed to my Twitter stream and said, "Because you tell everyone else that THEY are FIERCE but really YOU are FIERCE!"
*sob*
I broke the cycle.
My kids are happy, content, and brave.
Return to You Are FIERCE
You are fierce and pure. You should be celebrated because you do make a difference. I have had more than my share of demons and baggage. For the most part, I have carried them around for years. You have opened your heart. While it may be sad and you may be hurting, it will get better. It's only when we choose to hang onto the pain that it doesn't leave us. In fact, it can worsen over time if we don't let it go. You are an inspiration and a terrific example to your kids.
ReplyDeleteZina
and wise beyond their years.
ReplyDelete*CHEERS* to you my friend. For all of the things you know I am cheering you for but also for never losing sight of who you are, where you came from and how that never defined you.
Lots of Love,
SherryLynn
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete{{{{HUGS}}}}..I get it! I have my own demons and baggage to deal. One day I will share them but I have to watch the publication ban...long story. Anyways we all are fierce in one way or another. So glad you broke the cycle with your kids.
ReplyDelete