The "Magic" of Chistmas

Don't you wish that you could actually "bottle" the magic of Christmas back from when you were a kid? Back when you were a kid...you didn't have to worry about Christmas shopping, baking, those GD Santa Swaps for under $20 for people you don't give a shit about, Christmas decorating...and worst of all...the entire hang over of Christmas debt. You didn't have to worry about calories, pay attention to what you ate or stress about gaining weight. All you ever had to worry about was your mother actually completing the phone call to Santa to tell him not to bother coming....when you have been saucy or a naughty girl/boy...I still can't believe that I bought that scam year after year...it's the same as when Dad would scream "don't make me stop this car!"... my brother Lloydie, Lori and me would instantly shut up and be scared shitless. But, what would have happened if he stopped the car? Did anybody's parents ever actually stop the car? Would he have left us on the side of the highway? NO...irrationally we would all sit in fear...fear of the car stopping! I digress...back to the threat of the phone call...the simple movement of lifting the receiver of the phone... not touching the dial...stopped me in my tracks...and I am still a naughty girl who is scared shitless of the phone receiver in my Mother's hand!!!

I remember many Chritsmas' staring out of our large picture window...desperately looking up to the sky for the sleigh. I still swear to you that I saw Rudolph's bright red nose leading the other reindeer and Santa's sleigh over my house! Every Christmas Eve my mother cranked up that "Santa Sleigh Tracker" on the radio...somehow the 'sleigh' was almost on the edge of our town right around bedtime...(highly suspicious and perfect timing I'd say!)...but I was exhausted from the emotional roller coaster ride anyway. When I was a kid, time sure moved super-agonizingly-slow on Christmas Eve! I even tried to go to bed one year at 4pm because I just couldn't stand the wait any longer! But...I got out of bed for church and Christmas Dinner with my grandparents....which was awesome. My grandparents made my Christmas complete. Every Christmas Eve before they left for their 'rounds'(cousin Sherry!) we were allowed to select one present and open it. Nanny and Grampy always gave me and Lori the same thing...mine was pink...Lori’s was blue...whatever it was it was awesome!I spent the weeks before Christmas studying the packages and shaking them in order to make the best decision for which gift to open on Christmas Eve! I was a slow learner back then...because we always opened our grandparents’ gift while they were still there...but the following year I started the gift studying all over again.

When we were kids, my sister Lori and I shared a bedroom. One night when I was about 4 years old, I distinctly remember waking up and hearing the sounds of presents being moved around....both of us almost shit our pants with excitement. Being the ballsy girl I am...I decided that Santa would like nothing more than to actually meet me in person...so in my "kitty pyjamas" (those once piece PJ's with feet included and a snap open bum)...I jumped out of bed...and started to make my way to the living room to greet the jolly fellow...but my plans were foiled when my Dad stepped into my path. My Dad is a big man...blocks the light from coming through a doorway kind of big...so if he steps in front of you...you stop. He asked "where do you think you're going?" In my little voice (like Cindy-Loo-Who)...I pulled my thumb out of my mouth... and very authoritatively informed him that I was going to meet Santa. He crossed his arms and shook his head back and forth in a no. He said "are you kidding me? You better get back to bed quickly because Rudolph is on the roof right now!" At that very second...Rudolph (aka my brother Lloyd) scuffed his hoof(boots)...on the roof directly above my head!!(The roof of our house was flat by the way!).If I knew the meaning of OMFG back then I would have screamed it out...but in a 4 year old mode 35+ some years ago...I remember my heart stopping! Now...my memory gets a little blurry after that...somehow...faster than the speed of light...I landed back into my bed from 20 feet away without my feet touching the ground...and against all rational odds I somehow fell asleep until the morning.

Waking up...I remember those butterflies doing cart wheels in my belly...so much excitement simply by opening my eyes! I had that moment where I simply woke up...and then the reality that Santa had been to my house....and a pile of gold was waiting for me just around the corner would set in. I would scream "NORI (Lori=sis)....NORI get up....come on!!!!"...and off we would go...running to the living room! In our house...Santa did not wrap his gifts...the gifts from Santa were staring right back at us as we rounded the corner into the living room. There we stood...taking it all in. My heart skipped a beat...I couldn't breathe....right there in the center-front of the tree stood Wendy Walker...the big and tall doll of my dreams!

Wendy Walker was 32" tall and she had the most beautiful blonde hair with ringlets. She did not actually "walk" at all...her legs moved back and forth from the groin...no knee action...no chance of walking...I think maybe "Walker" was her last name. It didn't matter ...I was only a few inches taller than she was...and I drugged this life-sized, stiff monstrosity around with me everywhere. Thumbelina was going to be so jealous! Do you remember Thumbelina....she was a soft doll...you pulled a string in her back and she wriggled like a real baby? Thumbelina had no need to be jealous...I still miss her the most...I LOVED her! The following year Wendy Walker was discarded to the back of the pile and replaced with Baby Tender Love...like children though...you loved them all...just in a different way than the others! I loved Baby Tender Love so much I actually almost chewed the legs right off of her!(Don't even try to tell me that you did not chew on Baby Tender Love or your Barbie's feet...because I know you would be lying!).I also had Mrs. Beasley...that doll is just plain old scary UGLY...but somehow I managed to fall in love with her too! Mrs. Beasley was a plastic headed old lady wearing a blue and white polka dotted suit from neck to toes...she had thick black framed glasses and when you pulled her string she said loving things like a Grandmother would. I don't remember what she said...but I loved her just the same.

I digress...back to Christmas Day with Nori(Lori). After everything was opened...I would take a breath or two to regain composure and I would re-examine everything...and take in that "new" smell of Christmas presents. I have no recollection what Lori or my brother Lloyd got...I didn't care. They were older and got fewer toys and more clothes...like grown-up things. I also got a can of hot pink "Silly String" that year too! I LOVED that! I can still smell it...my parents must have been some pissed at Santa that year because I made one hell of a mess all over the house with that stuff!

Then, years later...you wake up whenever...and all the gifts are wrapped...and soft...like clothes only. There are no toys at all. No excitement leading up to the days before Christmas...no 'sleigh tracker' on the radio...no need to look out the window. No more ripping through the pages of the Sears Wish Book as soon as it crossed the door step. No more worrying about Santa burning to death in the blazing fire in our fireplace...no more Grandparents. Every year after they died...I would look to the door like a loyal dog....waiting for them to come home...which wasn’t going to happen. Christmas just wasn't the same at all. In fact, it turned out to be a tremendous disappointment...I desperately searched for that "magic" feeling year after year...and I never ever found it. As a grown up...and a nurse...I would sign on to work every year...saying I wanted people with kids to have it off...but in reality I was trying to avoid the disappointment that would inevitably come anyway.

Then, out of the blue...the love of my life jumped into my world with children in tow. On that first Christmas with my step kids (aged 6 and 9)...I didn't see it coming....but that "magic" feeling rushed right back into my heart. I spent the weeks before the event searching for that 'perfect' gift for them...and it was worth every minute for the look on their faces. When the kids opened those gifts it was magical...priceless in fact...you cannot beat a front-toothless grin with the accompanying spitty speech impediment....thankth tho much Nynn(Lynn=me) !!!I'm tho happy!!! Tears of joy flowed freely from them (and me) as they opened the perfect gifts...giving oodles of hugs and kisses...all day! Before the step kids stomped into my life...I had the perfectly manicured Christmas tree with clear lights, crystal ornaments and burgundy bows...but after our first year together...and every year afterwards...I had multicoloured....dysfunctional crooked trees with randomly placed items...perfect! I also got to play "Barbies" and color all day too! I LOVE COLORING!

As it turns out...the magic of Christmas was not lost forever...it was simply 'on hold'...and within me the entire time. Can you imagine my surprise when I discovered how much Santa cursed and swore when he attempted to put the toys together (FYI-the Easter Bunny swears alot too!). I found myself too excited to sleep...waiting for that pile of gold to be discovered that Santa left at my house by the kids. I will admit that it was very challenging answering questions about how Santa was able to find them (the kids) at their mother's house...and at our house. How Santa managed to get into the apartment without a chimney or key...and best of all...the highly scientific answer that I had to conjure up when I blared the radio...and was asked how the "Santa Sleigh Tracker" worked while they desperately searched and stared up into the sky!

"Until one feels the spirit of Christmas, there is no Christmas. All else is outward display - so much tinsel and decorations. For it isn't the holly, it isn't the snow. It isn't the tree not the firelight's glow. It's the warmth that comes to the heart”~Anonymous

Nynn
(aka Lynn)
;)

Death Becomes Her

For those of you who do not know me I am a nurse. I never wanted to be a nurse...ever! Because there was no roll call in university,I decided to be the cribbage champion of the student union building and subsequently failed out of my first year of university! Now, considering that I graduated almost at top of my class in high school with a 94% average...plummeting to the lowest depths of the earth with “academic probation” followed by a “see you later” at the end of the school year was simply unacceptable to my mother...a teacher. FAILURE WAS NOT AN OPTION! So, with fists clenched she ‘nicely’ cornered me one day and said “Navy or nursing”...take your pick”. I started to say “Well, I don’t think that I am interested in either really”... but then she simply (and very sternly) repeated herself...”Navy or nursing...it is not a question of anything else...take your pick.” I thought about peeling potatoes somewhere over the North Atlantic Ocean and with head bowed I quietly answered “nursing”.

My Grandmother was technically the first nurse in our family. She did not graduate from an accredited nursing school...she did not have a cap or black stripe...but she was the epitome of what a nurse is. Nanny assumed the care of every single sick family member in her home until they died. This is where I believe I got my innate nursing capabilities from. When my Dad was a young boy it was ‘just another day’ for the relatives to be taken out the door “feet first”. "Feet first" is the exact translation of French "les pieds devant", which is a metaphorical humorous/slang expression meaning "dead". It is frequently used with "partir" (leave) and there is always an indication of movement, as of a coffin rolling, or lying on a stretcher. So, years before I was even a glimmer in my Father’s eye...death was just as ordinary as lunch...sometimes it even came between lunch and dessert!

The death theme spilled over into my world and continued to be an everyday ‘normal’ occurrence in my life. My earliest childhood memories and bonding moments with my Mother involve regular visits to the funeral parlors and going for walks in the Fernhill cemetery. I absolutely loved the cemetery...I actually remember begging Mom to take me! At the funeral parlor there was plenty of great food, punch, and socializing galore...everyone was glad to see you...it just made sense to me that the first three letters of funeral spelled FUN! I did not have a clue that going to the funeral home or cemetery was not what every kid loved doing. Little did I know... this life-and-death experience (my Grandmother’s huge heart and the unintentional funeral-parlor-etiquette-training)...during my early formative years would come in very handy and would prepare me for my life’s profession!

My current position as nursing supervisor involves being a family advocate at cardiac arrests and traumas. Over the last week, I have dealt with the sudden deaths of a 58 year old, a 59 year old, people with terminal cancer, elderly patients, some newborns and still births and some forever young DOA’s (dead on arrivals) from accidents. During these events, it is my job to seek out the family...keep them updated...hold their hands...offer an official shoulder to cry on...pass the Kleenex...provide unlimited hugs...and introduce the physician to deliver the verdict. I am their ‘ROCK’...and I feel honored to be there for them.

For all intensive purposes...my 'death-training' prepares me to stand strong...remain strong and in control...to be a ‘rock’...but in reality I am a mess! I relentlessly carry the family members with me for days...sometimes my heart feels twisted like a sponge as I think about the mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers whom I have never met. I think of them...imagine what their Christmas will be like...wonder how they are getting through the day...worry for their futures...and their present. I liken myself to be more like a Cherry Blossom than a rock...you know those chocolate treats that resemble a rock? They have a hard chocolate and nutty exterior...but with some persistence and a good bite...a soft and gooey pink center oozes out all over the place? As tough as I would like to appear on the outside...these experiences inevitably result in a break and subsequent explosive flood out in the dam!

A couple of weeks ago, two birds who were flying along and having the time of their lives...crashed into my picture window with a big loud thump!I jumped up to see what was going on...only to catch a glimpse of one bird lifting its head...looking both ways...taking it's last breath and dying right there on my lawn at the base of my window! The other bird was head first in the ground...ass up...and struggling to get back up. My first instinct (and absolute terror) was that I would have to kill it in order to end the suffering and save its helpless body from the jaws of a hungry kitty. I immediately picked up the phone and called my husband at work...I hysterically told his supervisor that it was an emergency...and when he came to the phone...I imagined myself pummeling this helpless bird to death with a shovel...and I LOST IT! I screamed and wailed and cried myself into out-of-control hysteria. Thankfully, my hubby works next door...so he rushed home to remove the dead bird...and in the process...when he helped the ass-up bird get upright...it woke up from its reverie and it flew away! You would think that this would make me feel better right? WRONG! I re-imagined myself pummeling this thing with a shovel to save it’s suffering...and the possibility that I could have murdered a living bird made me even nuttier!!! My husband held me through my out-of-control-heaving-crying spell...and after he went back to work, I ate my way through the rest of the day...wishing to God there were melted cheese vats or tubs of chocolate pudding to dive into...extra melted cheese...deep fried anything. When I get into these ‘states’...there is not enough chocolate in the world that will help me feel better! I had to lie down for a couple of hours to recover...damn that oozing pink center! Damn...a Cherry Blossom would be really really good to eat right now!

I graduated from nursing 20 years ago this week. Over the past two decades I have been privy (and blessed) to be present for the most frightening and/or miraculous moments in the lives of complete strangers. I have been there when people who fear bad news are given good news...and I have been there when people who didn’t see it coming have been delivered a devastating blow. I have seen births, deaths, miraculous recoveries, inexplicable tragedies and sudden deaths. It is during these times that I can't help but to reflect on my life and death training...I have realized that I was born to do this...prepared to guide people by the hand through these painful life moments. Bottom line here...my Mother did not pick nursing...nursing picked me. Nursing has molded me into the person I am today...and for that I am forever grateful for this amazing and blessed life experience!When you're a nurse you know that every day you will touch a life or a life will touch yours. ~Author Unknown

God pours life into death and death into life without a drop being spilled~(Author Unknown).

Lynn Casey RN
;)

The Olympic Torch

This week the Olympic torch came through my town. My hubby and I went to watch it. It was a really cool event. There was a Coca Cola truck before the torch bearer that passed out free Coke, Canadian flags and neon shiny things. There were a couple other official vehicles with the media and torch runners in tow and then the torch runner. Lucky for us, there was a torch pass over right in front of us! I went to snap some amazing photos...and much to my chagrin...my camera was DEAD! I could have screamed! I joked that ‘oh well...at least this memory is ‘burned’ into our brains!

The following day, I happened to go to my home town 90 miles away for a visit, just to see my family and friends for the day. Well, low and behold...didn’t I get stuck in traffic right in the middle of the torch relay? I was surprised and I could not believe I’d get a chance for an actual picture of the darned thing! Well, traffic was stopped...and as soon as the torch bearer came into view a big ass truck drove right in my view. My picture of the torch bearer is a blurred mess of a flame with a truck grill in the way! I admit that I was pissed...but I laughed it off. I realized that I was fortunate enough to see the flame relay twice and that in itself was really cool! The ‘old’ Lynn would have freaked out...she would have went down on the floor kicking and screaming in a full fledged temper tantrum with red faced rage!

When I was a young nurse, I was’ bright eyed and bushy tailed’, ready to take the world by storm. I quickly voiced my opinions and rallied for change. I believed in action, not reaction. I could not understand the resistance that I had met along the way. All I ever wanted was to make our profession better. Unfortunately, I became a scape goat for negativity. I was confused and disappointed. How could I have been perceived as exactly what I have learned to hate? Much to my demise, my passion for change turned into rage and years of frustration.

A couple of years ago, I broke 4 teeth from grinding in them in my sleep. I was not sleeping well and I would cry at the drop of a hat. I reached ‘the point of no return’ and I didn’t have the energy to turn around. I found getting out of bed to go to work challenging. I noticed that I would become anxious days before my shifts. I knew that I was ‘burnt out’. I tried to ignore it. But my body would not allow me too. This burn out spilled over into my personal life. I am normally an outgoing and sociable person, but I began to withdraw and avoid social situations. I knew that I needed to do something. In the past, I would apply for another job and move on. However, I discovered that this ‘band aid’ only lasted for a short time. What on earth was I going to do?

I decided that I could not climb over the brick wall, and banging my head against it was not productive for my career or my health. I chose to take a detour instead of stop at this dead end. I realized that my fight begins with myself. I had to stop being bitter and learn to be better from my experiences. Well, I decided to change my lifestyle, instead of locations. I started to run, eat healthy, and change my attitude. I was judging myself according to what I did, rather than who I am.

Did you know that the Olympic torch has a secondary flame that kicks in if the main flame extinguishes? This is such an important analogy! To be the best person you can be you must guard your inner flame first! Now I am far from perfect! I have fallen off the wagon many times...and I have not been running for a couple of years now. But, every time I fall off...I get back on...fall off...get back on. Exercise always sneaks back into my life...never totally gone. I most definitely eat healthy...with a slip now and then. I set aside special 'me time'...take long baths by candle light, read a book, get my nails done....whatever strikes my fancy. I realized that change begins within. You cannot change the way people think...you can only change how you react to them. I think back to the song we used to sing at Camp Medley: “it only takes a spark to get a fire going...and soon all those around...will warm up to it’s glowing.” When times are tough...dig down and spark up that inner flame.


“Success is not the result of spontaneous combustion. You must first set yourself on fire.” Fred Shero quotes

Lynn
;)