My Rose

brians-rose

“Surrounded by you, my eyes open or closed.
Thinking of you, lost petal, my rose.
Hoping for you, to change what you’ve chose.
Wishing for you, to love me like those.”

It’s Tradition

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I had a conversation yesterday with a colleague of mine and we were discussing Christmas traditions and the role they play in making the holidays special. As per Google, “Traditions” are the transmission of customs or beliefs passed down from generation to generation. Like me I’m sure, most of you are familiar with these annual festive rituals, and also like me, they most likely started when you were a kid. It’s something each year, that has to absolutely happen in order for you to say it was a Merry Christmas. They become more and more necessary, helping recreate those nostalgic feelings that we’ve all become so attached to. One example of that is being home for Christmas, there’s something about being home for the holidays. The memories of being home with your family and friends are memories that will last for the rest of you life.

My grandparents passed away some time ago and I used to have a hard time with the fact that Christmas would now become different. So different that I felt like the holidays would never have the same feeling anymore, like I would never be as happy. The tradition of going home and spending time with the family at my grandparents’ house, my house, where I was raised would become just a memory. Forced to turn the page on that chapter of my life and say goodbye to something that was so dear to my heart was very hard for me. The house was sold, family slowly drifted apart and we all began to move on. Yeah, for many years following I struggled, holding some resentment that the nucleus of the family were no longer the highlight of such a celebrated time of year. It made me mad, upset for sure, but mostly, it left me with a void that I felt would never be filled again…until.

Until one time, a Christmas or two ago, I was sitting around reminiscing, and dwelling on what was missing. Then something spoke to me, even to this day I say it was my grandmother herself. Like a real life scrooge moment, I heard her gentle voice, her soft whisper fell upon my ears, she told me that it was not like me to be feeling the way that I was. She knew me better than anyone else on this planet and she was upset that I gotten lost in the past, mad that I was being so stubborn. “Enough of that” she said, and just as she had for my entire life she consoled me with her words… “Places don’t make memories Ash, people do”.

After that, I started to look at this time of year differently. It made me understand that thinking that way was only hurting me, and ultimately hurting the people around me. Sometimes we have to leave the people we care for behind, sometimes people we care for have to leave us, but what we have to remember is that our heart is a very big place. It’s big enough to hold as much love as you can imagine, and extra big during the holidays. Christmas is not about what you don’t have, but it’s more of what you do have. Take those traditions of the past and share them with your present, there may be a chair or two empty at the dining room table but no matter what you’ll always have plenty of room in your heart.

 

I Can See You Again

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I could not hold my breath any longer,
your back to me that day.
I expected so many things until,
until that moment when you turned,
to shed a tear so real
…it still hurts.

For the Love of Gay

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Hey there,
I ate lunch today in the adjacent hotel lobby next to my work as I do every now and then. Sometimes I use my lunch hour to write because it’s out of the way, hotel quiet, and a great place to people watch…and not in that creepy way.

I was sitting there, minding my own business when a couple who I think were in town off a cruise ship from the United States. They were sitting a couch down from me, they were chatting about whether or not they were going to partake in an afternoon bus tour, debating because the weather sucked. Perfectly normal conversation until I overheard the lady say something that was like “what the ****”.

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What was it? Well, there’s a KD Lang concert this weekend and I guess they had been deciding earlier if they were going to attend because it came up during their back and forth. The husband asked a couple of times if the wife (60ish) wanted to go and she replied with “I don’t know, I like KD Lang, actually, I did like her before she was gay”….This is 2017 correct? I was flabbergasted, couldn’t believe what I had heard. I was like, “really misses, before she was gay”, so what, KD Lang now uses her gay voice to sing, or shoots gay bullets from her eyeballs, like come on. I immediately turned in her direction and made sure she was aware that I had heard what she had said so that for that millisecond she could realize how ridiculous she sounded.
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It amazes me how this ignorance still exists, how people don’t realize the hurt this kind of backward-thinking creates. No disrespect to KD Lang but if this lady didn’t know that KD was gay before she actually came out, then she probably thinks dinosaurs still exist or the earth is flat. Lady, please educate yourself my love, open your mind and allow people to be who they truly are, god I feel bad for you.

I don’ t know, I was having another bad day and that put the icing on the cake. Live and let live, treat others as you would like to be treated and love your partner, man, woman and the like. This lady is clearly lacking something in her own life (maybe a pet dinosaur) she feels the need to chastise others for her own misery.

My thought is this, no matter what, there are going to be people out there that will try to keep you down, try to dictate you life, and try to tell you what they think is right. We just can’t let them, we need to stay true to ourselves and remember that understanding, acceptance, and genuine love for one another is something this world should never be “constantly craving”.

 

I Will Remember You

Pop Smart

Hey all,

Just wanted to post something a little close to the chest today, it’s another birthday of my Grandfather whose passed on and a few years ago I put together this little video in his memory.  I did so for my family, to give them something they could enjoy, sure, there were probably a lot of tears shed when they viewed it but I thought sometimes we can all use a good cry to get those feelings out.  As you may interpret from some of my poems, I have lost a few people that are near and dear to my heart. It has not been an easy journey moving on without them, but I feel that expressing myself through writing has helped me with my process of healing so I decided to share.

It’s not easy losing someone, it’s something that we at most times are never prepared for.  It’s not until you go through it yourself that we finally understand that our time on this planet is very short and we must utilize every second we can to show our family and friends how much they truly mean to us.  Nobody is perfect and we all have areas of our life that we can maybe improve on and our relationships are no different, especially family, relatives are forever bound by blood but it’s true that sometimes we forget what matters in our hectic lives because somewhere along the line we lost our way.

I am guilty of the above, I have relationships that have deteriorated, gone astray that keep me up at night, another part of life I guess. I think about it all the time and I feel sometimes like it was something that I did, sometimes I pass the blame on to the other, none of those examples are 100% true, forget about the blame and just make it better.

Days like today I put my life in perspective and realize that there are those that have gone before me that I wish every day that they could come back, even for just a moment. But I have to realize as well that there are people that I love that are right next to me or only a phone call away, so what’s stopping me?

Give your kids a hug, kiss your spouse, call your mom and have a beer with the buddy because today we have while tomorrow, who knows?

Miss ya Pops

 

Someday Again

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Fist held against your chin staring beyond, adrift in recollection.
A ponder of well-being was the focus of those faraway eyes.
Rock…rock until contentment, unbroken ritual.
You miss, you worry, because you loved.
The tittle-tattle of your kindred always spawned a glow in your half-cocked smiles, your infectious being.
Dear grand, by and by with a simper,
someday again.

One Ray of Sun

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Just one ray of sun can melt it all away,
make it right, make it ok.

Embrace like before with meaning and feel,
something I forgot was actually once real.

The static between can easily be gone,
takes simply understanding, not brains nor brawn.

Bring it back from where we left it in the dark.
Let’s let all the light in, all I need is your heart.

“Forget Me Never”

(I thought I’d share this poem that was taken from a journal of mine, it was written July 26, 2006.)

Forget Me Never
by Ash

Forget me never;
Forget me not.

Times we loved;
Times we fought.

We walked alone;
We walked together.

Forget me not;
Forget me never.

 

The Streets are Paved in Cold

I watched a movie earlier tonight, “Cardboard Boxer”, not bad of a film.  It starred Thomas Hayden Church and Terrance Howard, and it focused on the homeless.  Watching the main character Thomas Hayden Church fight adversity and survive his way through day to day life on the streets got me thinking.  A few nights ago I went for a walk and later wrote about it, I blogged about how cold it was and how much I hated winter.  It’s true, I was just “vent writing” and emoting my true frustration with how I felt about the dark days of winter.  No question about it, that night was cold, sooo cold, it was bitter and there was snow everywhere I looked.  As I walked along my body was in a full contraction from the brisk night air, I couldn’t help but think about how people who live on the streets do it.  Imagine having no place to go and having to try to find somewhere warm to sleep every night of your life, not only that you have to feed yourself too.

We witness this all the time, we pass by the usual suspects every day on our lunch breaks that give us their best pitch Monday through Friday to score just a little bit of change.  As soon as that interaction of just a quick yes or no is over, you move on with your life.  We go back to discussing what plans we have for the weekend or how good our workout was that day, the question of where you were sleeping tonight never entered your thoughts.  That night as I walked I thought about it a lot, I was freezing, yes I was wimping out a bit too but I was content knowing I had a warm home to return to.  I asked myself what I would do, what would be my gut instinct, could I be capable of the lasting a night like that on the street?  Probably not, but it humbled me knowing how fortunate I was and how my problems just don’t seem as important anymore.  I look out the window and I see a driveway that needs to be shoveled or I see a hinderance to my morning commute, I can’t appreciate the challenges they must endure each and every day battling mother nature.

The next time you pass by someone who could use some help, do so, give them a chance.  Yes, I know, how can you be sure where the money is going?  So many questions rush through your mind during that microtransaction, it’s milliseconds, we are quick to judge.  We can stand there all day morally debating if we should but we already know the answer to that question.  How much do we waste each day on the simplest of pleasures that we enjoy, ask yourself again, can you afford to give?  I bet the answer is yes, we just try to find answers for saying no, like we have something to prove.  We honestly don’t know where we will find ourselves in life, there are peaks and valleys in every dynamic.

That night made me realize that sometimes I do take life for granted and I do have it good but sometimes I think otherwise.  I have a roof over my head, a job that I go to from week to week and a family that love and care for me.  Appreciate the fact that you have cable and that the internet exists, a trip to the store takes 5 minutes by car, we got it pretty good.  Give of yourself, help out at a soup kitchen, donate your used clothing, do whatever you can because at the end of the day if you give back to the people that need it the most it can slowly become the only change they might need.

I Miss the Shot

I went for walk a couple days ago and spent a little time in the basketball court, the air was brisk, the sun beaming down, just the perfect conditions for a pickup game.  Both the basketball court and tennis court  were free at the time, a sight like that in my youth would be like finding a dollar each time you looked down, pure win.  Growing up I lived on the court where I played basketball, tennis, a lot of volleyball and well hockey was just a staple and a given growing up in small town Newfoundland, Canada.  Sports like those were a constant in my life and a constant in the lives of my friends, we all had the same passion for high school sports with a camaraderie that still exists today.  Certainly, we have all moved on with ours lives but if we happen to run into each other today we immediately start reminiscing of missed shots, long car rides and that time we all got in trouble for someone stealing a Crash Test Dummies CD.  Sports did that for me, it provided some of the best years of my life and I think every young boy and girl should get a chance to play something and challenge themselves while they make friends doing it.

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I remember the first time that I made a high school team, it was volleyball.  I had signed up using the clipboard signup sheet that was always hanging from the coaches door, dangling from an old piece of wool that someone must have brought from art class.  For the three days that followed I kept dragging myself to tryouts, each day at 3:15, all intimidated, nervous and unsure that I had what it took.  To make matters worst my best friend had actually backed out the day of, so I was really swimming in the deep end now with most of the team consisting of the whole ninth grade, a grade up on me and I was only familiar with a couple of the guys.  By the time the last tryout was finished I did get to know everybody but as a consequence to that I then learned that there were only a few open spots so I didn’t really get my hopes up.  The two days between the last tryout and knowing if I had made the team were brutal, the suspense nearly killed me.

The day had finally came, the team had been picked and we were to be notified by the coach personally if we had indeed made it, if he dropped by the classroom that would be a good thing.  It was pushing 3:00 on a Thursday afternoon when there was a knock on the door, it was coach, I immediately started to try to read his lips.  I couldn’t make out what he was saying  to the homeroom teacher but after what felt like an eternity he finally addressed the class and spoke three names, just three and those name were “Paul, Paul and Ashley”.  Never had my name ever sounded so soothing to my ears, I was instantly relieved, all that hard work had paid off and I was now part of an actual team. (true story see below)

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High school for me just kind of happened and I believe sports had a lot to do with that, I kept good grades, actually my grandmother deserves the most credit for that but playing sports was more like a luxury for me and being a good student allowed me that luxury.  I see kids playing sports all the time, they’re fun to watch, there’s too much negativity in the world so we need more of the small things and we can find that in our kids.  We watch them as they walk in our own foot steps and we vicariously start living through their success because you can relate to how genuinely happy they are playing a sport they love.  A few years ago my daughter actually took up sports for awhile, she called one day to tell me she had made the volleyball team, I was so proud, and she was doing on her own merit.  I remember barely containing myself hanging on her every word, I was a proud dad, it was indeed  a moment (sniff).  Although she moved on from sports as some kids do, she did get the chance to experience sports on a team level, she had some fun and created bonds for life.

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Speaking of bonds, playing outside as a kid was how I met most of my friends, we played hockey on the street all the time.  There was my friend Colin, one time he must have taken a full 30 minutes to get suited up in our makeshift goalie gear only to then take a rock to the lip on the first shot, he was done.  Oh yeah, a guy by the name of Corey who had a the heart of a Stanley Cup champion, he loved road hockey.  There were moments of my life where shooting a few hoops was a way to talk it out with a buddy, or maybe we’d make plans for the next day with a few jump shots before we called it a night.  I remember walking home as a teenager from a school dance with a close friend of mine Willie, who has since passed on, sometimes we would shoot hoops until the sun came up, just chatting it up while taking layups on a dimly lite basketball net.  I’ll never forget that, and I will never forget him, he was a good friend.

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When I was a kid I would visit my dad for a couple months of the summer, his sport was tennis which then became our sport.  He would bring me to the local tennis club and kick my ass up and down that court each match we played but I kept wanting more, some day I’d beat him, it was happening.  Every morning and again that same evening I’d battle my father back and forth trying to anticipate his next move, closing the gap and finally getting close enough where I might pull it off.  We played all summer one year barely missing a day.  I enjoyed that time with my father, for the first time in my life I felt we had connected through sport and for those tiny moments nothing else mattered.  We bonded a lot that summer and I learned more and more about him as we continued to play.  It was like we were getting to know each other on a different level and I am just now looking back realizing how happy I was.   He did a great job pushing me to my limits and taught me the lesson of being humble, I learned how to lose and I learned how to win.  I have him to thank for that, he showed me that you can be good but there will always be someone who could be better, so try your best every time and make sure to have fun.

That’s the thing about sports, they bring people together, they teach us a lot about ourselves.   Not only does sports help us physically and keep us healthy but it can be very helpful mentally as well.  Physical activity can help with stress, you’d be surprised how good you would feel by just getting outside and tossing the ball around.  I always look for opportunities to get outside with the nephews and nieces when they visit and they love it, there’s nothing like chasing the kids around the  yard and teaching them the concept of a game.

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Standing there at that moment and looking in at the empty court I couldn’t quite stop but think of the days where courts like the one before me would have been a forwarding address for me at one point in my life.  Take advantage of those moments as often as you can, time flies by so fast so have fun as much as possible.  Get out there and kick the ball around, walk to the park and shoot some hoops.  Go ahead and put your household title on the line and challenge the kids to a game of horse with the loser getting the dreaded dish duty.