Tag: family

life

See You Later, Marguerite

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The last time we saw each other in person was nine years ago. I remember the day vividly—you had made the decision to retire early, and while I was happy for you, the reality of your departure hit me hard. I cried on your last day, and you reassured me that we would see each other again, that we’d do lunch. But deep down, I think I knew there was a possibility that life would get in the way. I remember telling you it wouldn’t be the same, my voice small, I admitted, “I won’t get to see you every day.” And as life unfolded, our schedules never aligned—that last day truly became the last time I saw you.

I followed you on Facebook — stalked you like a stereotypical millennial, eager to keep up with your life. I saw the joy you found in spending time with your family—never once did you refer to your kids as “step-kids,” you loved them fully and completely. You adored babysitting your grandbabies, showering them with love and laughter. You were a force of warmth, kindness, and just the right amount of fiery spirit. Then, this past Sunday, I saw you had an Instagram account; you appeared as a friend recommendation, and I immediately sent you a request. What I didn’t know was that you had passed away the day before.

Losing you so soon feels deeply unfair. You were taken far too young, especially someone like you—so structured, so intentional in the way you lived, from your scheduled breaks for breakfast, lunch, and even brushing your teeth. You had created a rhythm in life that worked so beautifully for you, and now, far too early, that rhythm has come to an end.

I carry so many cherished memories of you, and now, losing you makes me reflect on my own priorities. You were not only successful in your career but also in life itself. Everyone remembers your kindness, but more importantly, you knew how to strike the perfect balance between work and home. You switched off when it mattered, poured yourself into your passions, found joy in your bowling league, and honed your golf game with dedication. I will forever hold onto the image of you on the golf course, lying on the greens near the hole, celebrating your first-ever hole-in-one—that moment, that joy, will always be etched in my heart.

These last few months couldn’t have been easy for you. I pray that you’re at peace now. Here’s to many more hole-in-ones in the stars. You are deeply loved. Thank you for all of the lessons. You will never be forgotten.

Love,
Sandy.

life

Emotionally Unavailable

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Growing up, I admired the adults in my life and looked up to them. I thought they were amazing and they were. But as I got older and gained more life experience, I realized that my rose-coloured lenses were fogging my vision.

As an adult, I see many adults coping and healing from their childhood traumas. Realizing that life was not as wonderful as they thought. Learning that those who they believed were guarding them were just trying to get by. Get by to pay their bills, meet the expectations of others and provide for their children. As a child of immigrants, I witnessed how hard my parents worked and they did work hard. But in the process of surviving, my siblings and I had to fend for ourselves. Don’t get me wrong, we always had a parent around, they were always there physically. But were they emotionally present? I think they did their best, and I don’t want to take away their effort, but they were not emotionally there to support us. My siblings and I had to ‘figure it out’. Maybe that’s why all 4 of us siblings are A type personalities. We know how to survive. It was a skill we learned from years of picking ourselves up.

As I write this, I can’t help but reflect on my dad’s childhood. Losing his own father at 17 and having to step up with his brother to help his family. Being forced to grow up too soon, only to be later judged by ungrateful family members who will never fully appreciate what it means to be alone in a country to shut down a business your own father built from scratch and move your family to another country for a better life. I can’t imagine the emotional impact that it would have on a person, and the lasting trauma that it would cause. How does one survive that? By putting one foot in front of the other. That’s how.

But that experience would change you.

I grew up with parents who were often sick. My father more than my mother. It was hard to see. It was hard to live through seeing your father too ill to get out of bed. I still remember the days when I only saw him when he came to the dinner table and then he struggled to walk back to his room. The smell of the Chinese medicines that he cooked on the stove. He had been told that he had a short time to live. But he fought through so that his older children would not have to face the same challenges he did, to support ungrateful younger siblings. And he survived. He made it.  

As an adult, and a parent to young children, I now realize the strength you need to survive. Even with good jobs that pay well, you still have to fight every day. Fight for yourself and do your best. But I need to do better. Growing up, I did not have the luck of having parents who were emotionally available. And I need to learn how to be emotionally available. I admit that this is my biggest weakness. I have done a lot of work on myself in my adult years to grow, and I keep working. But I am not where I should be. This morning, I screamed at my son because he did not want to get ready for school. He wanted me to change his clothes. And I got so frustrated. I was angry that he did not take the initiative to change his own clothes. He can do it. He started crying and I left him in his room to cry. I came back 15 minutes later and he was still sitting on the floor, in his PJ’s. I was so angry. I gave up and changed his clothes for him, but I was so angry. I kept saying ‘do you know how much I have to do every morning to get you to school? Don’t you understand how much work I have?’ I was venting my frustrations on him. I was expecting him to take care of himself, so I could take care of myself. But I’m the parent. Adult me is the result of someone who has had to ‘figure everything out herself’, and I don’t want that for my kids. I want them to know that I am there for them whenever they need. I need to change. I have to grow for them and become more emotionally available. I have felt terrible all day. Because it’s not my son’s responsibility to cater to my feelings and needs. It’s my responsibility to help him. So, after he went to school, I went to his room, and I installed a clothing hook. He can pick what he wants to wear the night before and get it ready. And in the morning, he can put on the clothes that he picked without needing me to pick them for him. And he doesn’t have to deal with my emotions. That’s my job. And I am going to give him the tools to help him be the best version of himself.

I don’t want to let him down by constantly having him manage ‘mumma in survival mode’.   I understand that changing habits and patterns is not easy. A lot of work is needed to heal from childhood wounds and to become more aware of how my words and actions are impacting my children. Listening more and yelling less is a goal to strive for.

I am counting down the hours till he comes home from school so that I can apologize to him. Because I have to do better.

— xoxo Sandy

life

Expectations

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As I interact with and observe people, I notice how many people have a selfish attitude. It makes me sad to see that people will do anything to get what they want, even if it means hurting others. And I often ask myself why? Why do they behave like this? Does it make them happy?

I know that people are imperfect, including me. But why do people constantly prioritize their own needs over the people they care about? Is that the key to happiness?

Every religion teaches some form of ‘love your neighbor’ or ‘be generous to your family’. I think these are the foundations of happiness. But as someone who struggles with depression, maybe I am wrong? If I deliberately do something that I know will harm someone, it affects me. It bothers me until I fix it. So how do people cope with choices that they know will hurt another person? How do they live with it? That is a sincere question that I have.

I want to grow, and I think this is an area of growth.

–xoxo Sandy

babies · baby · canada · depression · family · inspire · inspired · life · love · mom · parent · post-partum · quote

Why Can’t I Breathe?

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For the first 3 months postpartum, every morning when I opened my eyes I was consumed by fear and sadness. I was scared that I would have to go through another entirely new day full of the unexpected. Would my son cry a lot today? Would he feed okay? Would he want to be held for most of the day? There were too many unknowns and I had no idea what to expect. It was unfamiliar territory and it made me feel very vulnerable. Waking up in the morning was a challenge, and I hated it. I would wake up and have a panic attack. And if I am completely transparent, I wasn’t a single mom, I had a lot of support, but there was something in my head that kept telling me I wasn’t good enough. That I was somehow going to mess this all up. That my son would need something, and I wouldn’t be able to figure out how to help him. I just wanted him to be okay, and because of this, I put a lot of pressure on myself to be perfect. I felt I had to be perfect, so that he would happy.

I became a very anxious person. I never understood the power anxiety could have over a person until I experienced it myself, and boy was it an awful feeling.

But when he turned 3 months, its like something changed in our relationship. Its like we started to connect. Perhaps it’s because I started to speak to people about my struggle. But for the first time, I felt like I was actually starting to bond with my son. When we locked eyes, I felt like I could take care of him.

Make no mistake, I was still very very far from feeling confident in my parenting skills, but I was starting to build a support system to help me through some of my concerns.

I also stopped Googling for “help”. Whenever I wanted to understand a behavior my son’s exuded, or a solution to help him with a struggle like gas, I would Google. I found that Google left me confused and it stressed me out. There were so many solutions, I became overwhelmed. So, with the guidance of a doctor, I decided to stop.

Best. Decision. Ever.

When I started to slowly trust my own instincts and to reach out to people I knew, instead of a comment wall, I started to feel more confident in my own skills. If a solution didn’t work, I could reach out to the people who initially guided me and say “hey that didn’t work, got another idea?”. The open dialogue helped me work through my anxiety.

I still suffer from anxiety today – but I feel like I have the tools to work through it, and with time, I hope that I can overcome it.