a time.

"there is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens"
ecclesiastes 3:1

i will never be able to exchange the last few days for anything in the world.

my sister articulated it quite perfectly when she said that one of the most touching things to think about with our grandparents, is how much they went through in order for us to be where we are. i can't help but sit here and be very grateful for what i have, and those who played a part in giving it to me.

the weight of a life.

'when are you coming to see me?'

an innocent question that my grandmother asked me today, that in any other context i wouldn't have thought too hard about when replying with 'soon, i'd love to come see you soon'. but everything changes when someone is dying and asks you that exact question.

boom. why did it not dawn on me to visit her before she died rather than at her funeral? by all means i wish i could go to the funeral, it would mean a lot to me. but when i weigh it all out, isn't her presence in life a really special thing? especially in these last days?

tomorrow i find myself on a trip to kingston. i have no idea what the future holds in the days that i plan on being there, but i'll be there. and it will be hard, but perhaps it will be also good.

More stories of an arachnophobic

Also posted on facebook, but it's still funny:

It's been a while since I've shared one of my "special" spider moments. Alas, it was bound to happen at some point.

Tonight, while Andrew and 1/2 of Winnipeg was at the U2 concert, I went to family dinner. After a wonderful meal and part of an episode of "The Voice" I left to head home.

As usual, I got in the car, buckled up (safety first), and started the car. Right as I begin to accelerate I catch a small movement from the corner of my left eye. I turn to look and lo and behold... a nasty hideous terrifying spider drops from the top of the door where it meets the window and begins crawling back up it's nasty hideous web. It then proceeds to attach itself grey self to my window and go all flat. Yes, it's one of those. A flattening grey spider. Nasty type. Actually, just particularly ugly thus more frightening.

I let out a terrified yelp and slam on the breaks (approximately 10 feet from a stop sign and rather crooked on the side of the street) and proceed to do the following all in one quick fluid motion:

1. Put on the parking break
2. Mutter some unmentionables under my breath (I know I shouldn't... I was scared)
3. Check to see that the car is in neutral. Can't have it stall and make the spider fall somewhere I can't see
4. Jam on the hazard lights
5. Crawl OVER the break I've just pulled and into the passengers seat
6. Open the passenger door and make a hasty exit

What's missing in this list? Oh yeah... turning the car off. Forgot about that.

Regardless, I ran VERY quickly back into my parents house and called for the assistance of one Michael Nayler (my dado) to come slay the beast. And slay it he did. After some looking... very tricky those grey flattening types

In conclusion, I am still afraid of spiders and my dad is still a hero.