Family - 2010

The part of my life that is always good and always right.

the rest of the holiday

I had this long description of Christmas, but it was boring, so here are the highlights:
Kids slept in until 7 Christmas Day! They were so excited that Santa had come and ripped open most of the presents before I had time to make coffee.



Ben - lego
Naomi - dolls
Me - watching my kids jumping up and down - Santa magic is the best magic


Pancakes
Park
Chicken dinner
Visit Steve
Supper, and FIREWORKS! The kids' first ones and they loved them.
Amazing day.



In between we went out to the townships for Christmas with my folks and I had a walk under a sky full of bright stars with only the sound of the snow crunching under my feet. New Years Eve was quiet, we went up to the mountain and walked up to the chalet and played. Dinner with Debbie, watching the ball drop.



New Years Day was a run in the rain - my first longer run in weeks, and it felt GREAT!
Now in clean out mode, and a bit of sedentary slouch. Work tomorrow.....gahhhhh.....

Eve

My folks are not coming into town for Christmas. Mom had to go in for some tests, and they have made her very tired and ill. I decided not to go down, I don't want my mom trying to clean her house or prepare a meal - if I tell her not to, she will do it anyway and it will be too much. So, it's disappointing, but we'll celebrate when she's feeling better. But what to do? There's no point in me doing a Christmas dinner because I'm the only one that will really eat any of it, so I decided retool Christmas. Thursday night we went to see Cirque Mecanics, a fun show at TOHU (great space!).



Today we hung out, played outside briefly, did a few groceries, then headed downtown for Chinese food. The kids were thrilled to be eating noodles in a restaurant and were pretty well behaved. Then we popped in the car and headed down to the Quartier des Spectacles to wander around the gorgeous snow globes. Along the way we also took in all the other Christmas lights downtown (not to be confused with the ones on SuperSexe).



We came home, got on pjs, watched Charlie Brown Christmas, put out Santa's treat and made sure he had enough room to get out of the fireplace, then read Night Before Christmas and to bed. New traditions are good.....
What a great day.

Joy

On Wednesday I was driving to work and realised how calm and happy I felt. Cards would not go out on time, things would not be cooked, the house would not be spotless before the holiday and that was ok. That bit of the holidays that I missed for so many years because I was always so rushed and stressed, arrived for the second year in a row. I call it the Grinch epiphany, the time when I remember that the people who love me are my gifts and they don't care if their cards are late or my house is a mess or the food is simple. Those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. It's a shame that I only enter this calm pocket after stressing out for weeks.
Throughout the day my mood continued to lift, and by the end of the day I was floating with happy, vibrating from within with this indescribable giddiness. Last year I had to make myself stop and let it happen, but this year it came all on its own - remembering what is really important, that I love and am loved in this world. That is all that matters.

yes you, I love you :-)

I love EVERYONE! XOX

Things I meant to say

One of my friends stopped by today and over a cup of tea while we were getting caught up, told me that his sister had called to say that she had some bad news. He told me that his 15-year-old nephew had just been diagnosed with Aspergers. He indicated that the diagnosis was no surprise to him, and we talked about that. I automatically corrected about the term "bad", "Well, that not really bad news, just news", and we discussed the lack of resources briefly and his educational plans, and then moved on to another topic. He left, I took the kids out sledding, and then we came in and started some baking.

So I'm taking some cookies out of the oven, thinking about getting supper ready, and I look over at Ben, who is helping shell pistachio nuts with his sister. That's when it hit me.
If I'd been in a movie, there would have been that whooshing noise and some kind of blur special effect and then a flashback to me, almost five years ago, sitting in a metal chair in a small room at the Children's autism clinic. We'd just gone through days of tests with an array of doctors and PhD students. We'd been referred to the hospital by our pediatrician, and after an exam with audiology, we'd been sent to the clinic because they told us that even though they were sure it wasn't autism, it was the fastest place to get all the testing at once. I now believe that they tell parents that because they don't want you to bolt and not go ahead with the diagnosis.

So, sitting in the metal chair, watching Ben with the final assessor - the head psychologist - expecting that she was going to tell us that he wasn't autistic, just like the audiologist and our pediatrician and everyone else who had chimed in for months. But while Ben sat there creating a block tower, she turned to us and said, "So, Ben's autistic". There were words after that, sentences, paragraphs, but I don't remember any of that because at that moment the bottom fell out of my world.

That was the feeling that I relived in my kitchen tonight, that awful, stomach-twisting confirmation of what I didn't want to hear.

I know that on the grand scale of things it is not the tragedy of being told that your child is dying, or will suffer with a life of pain. I kept telling myself that over and over while what I was really thinking about was how he'd never have a neurotypical life. We all expect our kids to have at least our choices in life, if not more. We take for granted that they will have as much of a shot at education, relationships, careers, happiness, and fulfillment as we have. It is unbearably sad to suddenly think that their lives may be severely restricted. I used to stay awake at night thinking about the fact that Ben may never get married and have kids and a mortgage and a steady job. Honestly, sometimes I still do. But it doesn't terrify me like it used to.

Flash forward to me holding a sheet of cookies in my oven-mitted hand looking at Ben and I really did feel like the most insensitive person on the planet. Time, experience, education, and work have made me a person who no longer fears the spectrum and Ben's future. Part of me is so proud that I no longer see autism as a bad thing, just a difference, but there's no way I would have understood that five years ago. I understand the denial and the wishful thinking and the fears that we beat down and the lies we let ourselves believe because we so desperately want our kids to be "normal". The nephew's Aspergers may have seemed obvious to some, but to my friend's sister I'm sure it wasn't and I'm fairly certain that the bottom has just dropped out of her world.

I wish I'd been a bit more present today so I could have offered a kinder word and a warmer heart.

Moments of the morning

• Watching my son, bleary and pyjama-ed, walk into the pantry, grab the jar of peanut butter and a spoon, and head to the dining room.
  
• Listening to an improvised version of "All I Want for Christmas" substituting "cookies" for "teeth".
  
• Passing by my daughter's room and seeing her laying upside-down on the bed putting on her tights.
  
• My son's hat hair.
  
• The dance my daughter did for me in the window of the daycare.

Yeah, I was late for work, no, I don't really care.....

I am so in love with music right now....

Just finished listening to all six of Bach's Cello Suites performed by Jean-Guihen Queyras. His playing was marvelous - lively and crisp, playing that tore at my soul and then lifted it into the sky. I sat there in awe that anyone could store this much beauty in his head and bring it out from his fingertips. At the first break, Adriana turned to me and asked how anyone who is able to play something like that can get on with their day like a normal person. How many hundreds of hours of practise did it take to create so much wonderfulness that sang in my ears and thrilled me? I got out floating, wanting to hug the world and take it all into my heart.
It has been quite a week.

Ok.....

Admittedly, the snow is far less fun when I have to shovel out my car.
We just had our first storm yesterday - 15cm and gusting winds that created snow drifts over my knees in my front walk.

After work I headed down to Place des Arts and got a great last minute for the MSO. Bach, Brahms, and Bruckner. I almost didn't go, preferring to hibernate at home, but I parked underground to avoid any more car cleaning for the evening. The first half was lovely- but depressing if you knew what the contralto was singing, "O Tod, wie bitter bist du". Cheery. It ended with one of those Bach pieces that I hum a lot, Sleepers Awake. I rarely remember what it is, but it's catchy. The lady two seats over had on way too much perfume. The second half was Bruckner's ninth, unfinished. The second movement is very intense, emotional outbursts that then pivot into passages of calm. Nagano is so different from YNS, more controlling (but nothing like Dutoit was) and sometimes leaves the audience unsure of when it's ended.
Last Saturday I went to hear Bach's violin concertos and the Thursday before was a night of Bach and Ravel (with my lovely Yannick Nezet-Seguin). Tomorrow night is cello suites, I feel spoiled to have access to so much wonderful sound - it fills my ears and heart and gives me those moments of stillness and peace and awe that we all need to clear our psyches.



As usual, there are a few things on my mind. A few people in my life that I hold very close to my heart have given me some things to think about. I thought that I knew what makes me happy, but as events unfold, it seems that I do not know myself very well at all. I am surprised by where I find happiness and what that means about me and what I need. Perhaps what I am searching for is more of a state of grace within myself than a manifestation of it in another, and the patience, forgiveness, and understanding that I am slowly adopting (Rome wasn't built in a day people) is making it easier to love it all.

wonderland

Last night while we were sleeping, the snow came.
It wasn't a lot, a bit more than a dusting, enough to have to brush off the car, and wear boots, and even enough in some places to make snow angels. The kids woke up late (I woke up early, why can't sleep ever coordinate?) and came in for a snuggle and we talked for a bit about our dreams and the plans for the day. Then, I told them to go and look out the window. There was much excited jumping up and down and pleas for snowman making. The sun came out, making the new white cover sparkle as we got outside and cleaned the car to go to N's dance class. Neighbours were out, and the kids and the dogs were ecstatic, the kids eagerly pointing their heads to the sky to catch a drop on the tongue, the dogs running along with heads down pushing snow and inhaling a smell long missing. My thoughts turned to the holidays and I closed my eyes to take in that fresh, crisp snow smell as well.
The first snow is magical.

I did it!

(This post is way overdue, just finding some time now.)

At this moment I am so proud of myself. At the beginning of the year when I came up with the crazy idea of running a half marathon (originally for the end of April, which was postponed) I do not think that I really believed it could happen.

Running half that distance was a challenge for me, and my knees were not super thrilled, plus, let's face it, I'm not a young lady anymore and I'm athletically challenged at the best of times.

I pushed myself January-March. I had a training schedule to keep, but with my kids and work I was constantly out of time and trying to squeeze my workouts into impossible times when I should have been sleeping or doing something else that was important. I got stressed out and felt guilty about not keeping my goals, not spending enough time with kids and slipping behind at work. When I decided I wasn't ready in April and I gave myself permission to pass, two things happened: I regained my love of running, which had turned into a chore that I was starting to dread, and I became even more determined to do the 21k. I decided that I would train and run the distance late in the year. I saw the Oka run advertised and I knew it was meant to be and signed up right away.

I increased my distance gradually and didn't freak out when I had setbacks. I tried to stay as disciplined as possible, and I talked to everyone I know who runs for guidance and encouragement. I also let everyone know what I was doing so that I had a bit of guilt-support built into my routine. Sometimes your motivation on those bad days is knowing that your co-worker is going to ask you how that training is going. Some of my runs got longer, but when I could only squeeze in time for a 5k, I just did that because it was better than nothing.

In September I started running to the mountain, up the mountain, around the mountain, and back, 19k. I love this run. My favorite part is stopping at the lookout to admire the view, I feel so strong and accomplished. On Thanksgiving weekend I ran along the lake in Hamilton and when I got back and plotted my route, I realised that I had run 21k! Wow! After that weekend I took a week off in Maine and ran the 21 twice, as well as other shorter runs and hiking. I felt ready for Oka, nothing was gonna stop me, I had actually managed to plan and prepare for this, I was thrilled!
On Monday, the week before the race, I realised that I was getting a cold.
Shit.
I tried running it out of my system, but that didn't work. I worked from home most of the week and tried to rest and take vitamin c and all the stuff you should do. On Friday I went over to Adriana's and she worked her yoga magic on me with chest openers which cleared a lot of the junk in my lungs out.

That night I didn't sleep a lot, and at 5am I was up and getting ready. I packed everything just in case the weather changed. At 7 I was at the race site, the chalet was still relatively quiet. Within a half hour it was chaotic and crowded, so I was glad for my early arrival, even if it did mean some waiting around. I watched the sunrise over the water while I stretched and relaxed. A half an hour before the start time I went out to the start area and waited with all the other crazies. I found my friend Joanne and we jumped up and down trying to stay warm. It was freezing. By the time it started, the bottoms of my feet were frozen. It was good to finally start and the sun came out to warm us and melt the ice off the pavement.

I was at the back and stayed there for pretty much the entire way. I learned a few things. Runners are messy with the cups of water and throwing protein bar wrappers and tissues on the ground, they spit a lot, running clubs are way too cliquey - they move in little snobby packs, couples who run seem to stop a lot at the port-o-potties, and the really fast guys start late and run past you like you are standing still. The route was a go and double back sort of affair. The first guy passed me on his way back when I was at the 7k mark! That wasn't discouraging at all......

Most everyone else passed me around 9 or 10k which was fine. At some points I felt like I was running alone. There were a couple of people behind me, but not too many. The last couple of kilometers where I would normally feel a bit of extra energy I realised that I had nothing, probably because of being sick. All the way, the volunteers cheered us all on, it was so sweet. When I reached the finish, many cars were pulling out of the parking lot. My final time was 2:25, about 25 minutes after most people, but very respectable for me. I had my banana and bagel at the finish line and warmed up a bit at the chalet before heading home.

It was kind of anticlimactic. I'd been training for so long, now I'd done it and I was walking around feeling elated, but very alone at the same time.

I stopped at a friend's daughter's birthday party on the way home. My kids were there and many of my friends, and they all made a huge fuss over me and it was exactly what I needed, especially hugs from my two favorite people in the world. I ate like a pig and afterwards went home and got comfy on the sofa and iced my knees and tried not to move for the rest of the day. Sunday I went to yoga and once again Adriana fixed my body. On Monday I was perfectly fine.



So, the latest total (money is still coming in) is $1657 for the Children's Hospital and another $190 for the WIAHA. Thanks to everyone who donated :-)

I can't wait to do it again.

Five

Holy cow! Five! This morning I woke up and you were all curled up in my bed because you snuck in last night. I looked at the clock and realised that five years ago you had just told me that it was time to get to the hospital, which, as per the doctor's instructions from the last quick birth, we did as quickly as we could. You arrived about two hours later, wrinkled and mad and screaming at the indignity of it all. Sometimes you still scream like that.
You are the most beautiful girl on the planet, perhaps the universe. You continue to astound me with your joy, your passion, your expression, and your presence. You hug with abandon, sharing your love of the world and your exuberance with everyone around you. You are a rascal, you tease your brother, your daddy, and me, and laugh with your whole body when you think something's funny. Despite your teasing, you are a good sister, a bit bossy, but full of cuddles and good intentions and a million games that you invent for the two of you to play. Ben is your favorite person in the whole world and that never fails to warm me.
You have opinions on your clothes, you already have better taste than me, you can't wait to learn to read and you sleep with at least six books in your bed every night. You are strong and mighty and quick. You will take on the world and win it with your will. You shine in this world of so many ordinary things.
And when you tell me that you are going to grow up to be like me someday, I am the proudest person in the universe.
I love you so my little Noo,
Momma

words you want to hear before you close your eyes at night

Goodnight my beautiful....


I will be back to finish my vacation write up soon. Right now I'm up to my neck in work explosions...

she's not from here - day 4

Yesterday was a slower day. I spent the morning drinking coffee on the dock while the mist rolled across the smooth, still water. The hammock chair in the living room has become my favorite place for reading and writing. I have book stations around the house, a different book at every one so that no matter where I sit I can pick one up.

I decided on a shorter run yesterday, about 8k. I drove to a road that snakes behind the pond (I'm through running on the two-lane, it's treacherous!), parked, and ran all the way behind and back. almost all of it was dirt road which was a nice change from pavement.



After, I drove into town and picked up a few things (can you believe I left Montreal without lip balm?) and came home where I read and did some writing and ate, listened to music, went out to the dock with a cup of tea. There was an upsetting episode during the evening, but I'm determined not to dwell.
Reading in the hammock chair listening to Haydn, wishing I could stay here forever, or at least one more week.



Today I am planning a run up in the White Mountains, which are just across the road. I drove up part of it yesterday, dirt road, winding up, pretty challenging for me. Then there's a turnoff to Crocker Pond which goes up another 3k to a pond obviously. During the summer there must be a lot of people around, but now it's deserted aside from the hunters. You can hunt in national parks in Maine, did you know that? So that's the plan. It looks beautiful. Trying to stifle the bear fear.....I need cymbals.

she's not from here - day 3

Decided on a hike up Table Rock in Grafton Notch.
Drove there, parked, looked at the sign pointing out the trails, and crossed the road. Heading off I passed a guy coming out. That was the last person I saw on my hike. There were signs for a number of trails, I took the Table Rock trail and followed it up. Once again, it seemed harmless.



It got steep rather quickly and turned into an antediluvian riverbed, boulders instead of a path, winding up 900 feet. I followed the markers of red spray paint, a bit incredulous, at times completely winded. A couple of times I thought the top was near, I was so wrong, the trail deked me out, ran me through some woods, then up up up again. At one point I got to this huge boulder under a cliff and stood there flummoxed until I realised there was a spray painted arrow on one side indicating a narrow space to squeeze yourself between the rock and a cave under the cliff. I suppose if you had managed to make it up that far, they assumed you were thin enough to fit. Finally clambered up a muddy last hill and reached the Table, a flat bit of rock with an enormous view of the surrounding mountains. The sun came out, but it was quite cool and windy. Still, nothing was going to deter me from sitting and enjoying the view for a while and drinking some water and eating a granola bar while I was doing it.



I wasn't looking forward to the descent very much, but realised as I was climbing down that the markers were blue now, then realised that the trail was quite a bit easier. The significance of the red and blue suddenly sank in.
Duh.
I was so happy about the fact I didn't have to climb down through boulders that I started singing selections from Carmen at the top of my lungs. I was hoping I really was alone because a) I'm not an opera singer and b) I don't know the words. Still, happy as can be tripping down the trail, torturing the wildlife, passing streams, slipping occasionally on moss and muddy areas from all the rain we've had lately. The markers turned white, but I was still heading down, and eventually got to the point where the trails separated and I was indeed coming down the opposite fork from where I started. Got to the car, now kind of frozen and enjoyed the heater immensely.
Stopped on my way out of the park at a place called Screw Auger Falls, where the water has eaten round pools out of the rock, it's marvelous.

On the way home also stopped at a covered bridge and then at the local grocery store. No tahini (what was I thinking?), but found hummus, which was just as good when combined with lemon juice for the sauce for the chickpea/squash thingie.

Skyped my kids, miss 'em.....then read, wrote, drank, and slept.

she's not from here - day 2

Slept in until 8! Woke to the sun on the leaves, making them glow bright red and yellow and orange against the deep blue sky.
And I believe to the sound of a passing logging truck.
Have been reading and writing and lounging all morning, but must get out at some point and wander about. Trying to determine if my knees will accept a hike up Grafton Notch, or whether they'd prefer a 10k run. I'm fairly certain they'd prefer to stay in bed.
So yesterday, I had my route, which started with a dreary run along the two-lane which the locals treat like the autobahn. No real shoulder to speak of, so pretty terrible. Finally get to the turn off, Vernon Street, which goes back, way back behind the pond and loops around to town. Paved, but very quiet. Too quiet in fact. Realised that there really wasn't much out there in terms of anything. My thoughts turned to city-girl fears - bears, serial killers, you know. On the other hand, I'm enjoying the peace and the woods all around and being the only thing on the road. To combat my fear of startling a bear (my brain is a truly stupid place), I started to sing whatever my ipod was playing, of course terribly because I'm running, I'm wearing headphones, and who can sing the Beegees and Abba? Was fully expecting to come upon a bunch of locals BBQing in their backyard and staring at me. Luckily, that didn't happen.
Passed the occasional house and bit of civilization. After about 12.5k I came to the next turnoff that I'd seen on the map. Paradise Road cuts directly into town instead of going further around and then back. This seemed more efficient to me as I'd sat at the house planning. It looked harmless, as all truly bad things do. There were quite a few houses along the route, although the road was narrow. I took it. It had started to rain, a light drizzle, it was a bit cool, windy.
I now have a new rule about checking elevations when I plan a running route.
Paradise Road got its name because its purpose seems to be to bring you to the kingdom of heaven. The grade started slowly for the first .5k, then turned into the equivalent of running up Peel Street ten times, in a now harder and cooler rain. At a few points I actually felt like I was moving backwards. I was rewarded at the top with a vantage of the mountains and surrounding colourful countryside and a cemetery with one headstone. There are a couple of houses up there and I was mighty jealous. The way down was much less steep and I made it into town in time for the sun to come out. I wandered a bit and then ran, stumbled, occasionally walked, the last 7k back to the house, iced my knees, went and found some food, had a hot bath, and read until I couldn't stay awake.
Out and about again!

she's not from here - day 1

Woke up this morning to see a pink sunrise and water rippling and everything was so quiet and lovely. Threw some clothes on, made some coffee and went out to the dock outside the back door to enjoy it.
Sipping hot coffee, world so peaceful, beautiful Fall colours, birds, chill in the air, sound of the water lapping against the dock. Bliss. Noticed one of the metal chairs had fallen into the water. Bent to retrieve it.
Fell in, obviously.....
If I ever warm up again, have a run mapped for today - about 23k as far as I can tell. I will be stopping halfway for a walk around the town.

A little time off....

I'm here!
When I looked up the directions on Google maps and printed them out, I must have inadvertently chosen the "scenic but deadly" route option. I must have also mentioned "meandery" because the first thing it did was take me off the 10E, send me through Chambly, then back onto the 10E. Just a reminder that you must always read all of the directions FIRST. Whoops. Lesson learned. Perhaps Chambly is giving Google a cut, lots of new developments in that area.
So back on the 10, off at Coaticook and through to a small customs on two-lane highways, then across into Vermont. This is where any semblance between reality and the directions ended. How this could have been the shortest option boggles my mind, the ascents up several notches and hairpin turns certainly did not encourage a lot of speed. It was pretty, until nightfall and the rain started, combined with the warnings of MOOSE! posted every half mile. I was becoming immune to the exclamation points and pictures of large antlers, until I saw a moose (MOOSE!) just off the road, yet barely visible until you were right up to it. My speed dropped even more dramatically after that. Also saw two foxes and a bunch of deer.
One numbered highway turned into another, suddenly I was in NH - finally! Closer! Drove past this beautifully lit resort of some sort next to a lake. It was a surprising site. I kept going up notches, around curves, dark roads made darker by the rain. Thankfully, US drivers dim their lights when you pass, shame they all drive trucks and SUVs and blind me anyway. Finally saw a sign: [My location] (ME) 28. Whoop!
After 30 minutes of driving I entered Maine and saw another sign: [My location] 28. Ummmmm...... is there a difference between NH miles and Maine miles?
Keep driving, and....... [My location]!
Stopped at an ancient Shop and Save and picked up some basics. A million cookie varieties, one choice for plain yogurt.
Got to the cash and asked how to get to the pond and got the full Maine accent from the bag boy and was enchanted and amused. The cashier drew me a map to get out of the village, which was sweet of her. Found the place without too much backtracking. It's right off the road, but right on the pond. It is the headquarters for the Maine kitsch and knick-knack society, but completely expected and very cozy and warm, and wireless internet. I'm sitting in this rope swingy chair, like a hammock for one.
Can't wait to see how everything looks in the morning. I went out on the dock and looked up and the half-ish moon was out and the stars bright and twinkly.
I'm here.

When to hold, when to let go

I woke up in the middle of the night in a sweat. I had a nightmare, my heart was pounding, brain racing, that sick feeling of fear that stays with you as you lie there in the dark. My phone went off, a text: "heart attack".
I thought it was a joke.

I found out it was no joke. Someone who means an awful lot to me had just finished being rushed to emergency, then to a second emergency to relieve a major blockage that was stopping his heart, a heart that feels an awful lot for me, one that I was not ready to have stopped. I scrambled to the hospital and found my way to the ICU. On the way I remembered how we had chatted the evening before and how he'd been fine, telling me that he missed me, complaining about some meeting, making plans for the weekend and some vacation time we were planning together.

There were wires everywhere, and a machine beeping and scrolling four rows of small, jagged mountains across a screen, close to what my daughter would draw for a landscape before adding a sun and some birds in the sky. Disks of paper were still attached to him, reminders of the machines earlier in the evening that were monitoring him, showing erratic lines and flat spaces, reflecting the chaos and terrifying pain going on in his chest.

I was amazed at how good he looked despite what had just happened.
He was treated in record time and exactly the way he was supposed to be. Every medical person who walked through that sliding glass door into his room told him how lucky he was. They also told him that he has to quit smoking.
He is 45, you would think that this is a no-brainer.
It is the one sticking point between us, the thing that I cannot tolerate, will not accept. I cannot turn a blind eye to it and shrug it off. Perhaps it's because I've been down that road, not as far, and understand the way back. I cannot understand holding on to something that will kill you. But I cannot make him let go.
I spent the day with him, watching him sleeping, watching the monitor lines, holding his hand, stroking his head and trying to hide how scared I'd been. Here he was, fixed, blood flowing, pumping like it should, a new day. The opportunity to start all over again.
And tonight he snuck out of the hospital and had a smoke.

I don't understand that saying, "If you love something, let it go, comes back....it's yours, blah blah". When you love something, you hold on to it with everything you've got, you don't let it go because the thought of being without it isn't fathomable. The time you let go is when you don't care or have no choice.
We make our own choices, but how do you respect choices and let go when all you want to do is hold on?

Incidentally, my nightmare was not a premonition, it was just about zombies.....

Benny's Run

Hi Everybody!

This is the first year of the (I hope) annual Benny Run.
As you all know, I started running a few years ago. This year, I decided that I was ready to attempt a half marathon, and I have been training most of the year. It will take place November 6 at Oka.

I am raising money for the Autism Clinic at the Montreal Children's Hospital. I am hoping that you will sponsor me and help support the people and services that have helped my son Ben and so many other children reach their potential.

Ben is now in Grade 2 at a mainstream school. He's reading and writing, doing math, telling jokes, building amazing lego contraptions, and socializing with his peers. We are thankful for every bit of help we have received to get Ben where he is today, and so proud of Ben, he's a superstar and one of my heroes.

There are two ways to donate:

1. Go directly to the MCH Donations page at http://www.fondationpourenfants.com/en/donate-info.aspx
Select Community Events or Group from the list. Type “Bennett Wark Tribute Fund” in the Please Specify box under GENERAL INFORMATION. This directs your donation to the Autism Clinic. Then fill out the rest of the form. Under Additional Comments, write "Benny Run". They will send you a tax-deductable receipt in the mail.

2. Give the donation to me and I will send it to the Children's for you.

Thank you all for your support!

Dina

________________________________________________________________________________

The profits from the race entries will go towards the West Island Association for the Intellectually Handicapped (WIAIH), which is a great organization. If you would prefer to donate to them instead, the link is provided below:
https://www.runningroom.com/dashboard/donations/index.php?raceId=5654&eventId=18497&memberId=VjYGNVczAWFdMFZiVGo%3D&item=8&guest=1