Like a Child

When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. 1 Corinthians 13:11

The other day at Winners whilst I was perusing the racks (of clothes), a slippery shirt dropped of the hanger. As I crouched down to grab it and as I looked up, I felt an old familiar feeling. Surrounded, hidden and smitten.

When I was a kid, I loved to hide in the clothes racks from other shoppers. When they would pass me by and I'd go unnoticed, I got this butterfly tingly feeling in my stomach and would think "yes, hehe! They didn't see me". I was an espionage of sorts or maybe just plain old sneaky and depending on the season, I may had just literally pulled the wool over their eyes. The round clothes racks were the best because they gave a full circle coverage.

The only full circle coverage I get these days are from my bra.

Funny though how one small thing can bring you back to a feeling, a state or place you've been or once dreamed you would be. Maybe it's sparked by a conversation with an old friend or an object from your childhood.

I like to buy candy I once enjoyed as a kid to make me feel small and innocent again. Coconut aroma anything brings me to past summers and certain songs to past love interests.

The most surprising is when you pass a stranger in the crowd and you catch a scent of perfume and it reminds you of someone you knew. I close my eyes and think of that person even if for only that moment or longer if I choose.

Maybe it's one single word that can trigger a whole reel of emotion. Sometimes it's blissful and other times it's evasive. Your day is carrying on as normal as a day in your life can be and something small, even unmentionable picks you up out of the present and tosses you backwards into a stream of guilt or embarrassment. It's about a conversation you shouldn't have had, the time you were in the wrong place at the wrong time and the worst, a misunderstanding you never could fix. You're tortured again by what you've done or haven't done. What you've said or haven't said. Who you were or who you weren't.

It's silly, really, but I love a good unexpected trip via time travel. I'd like to collect these moments but that's sort of the beauty of them. They come and go as they please.

I wish sometimes I could crawl on the cold tile floor under organized garments (hopefully long and almost to the floor like coats) and tuck my feet in as close to my body as I can. Hugging my knees tightly and slowing my breath I'd be once again be a child.

...Until of course my mom would then find me and it would just be...


game over.


!

Church Obesity

I went for an early spring jog the other day since I could see the pavement. I don't know why but when spring approaches and the pavement clears of snow, I get an overwhelming urge to lay down on it and maybe even give it a kiss. Perhaps I thought if I tried running I might get a version of that experience if I tripped.

Anyways, as I was lightly jogging (I don't want to exaggerate and say I was running just for the sake of a good post) I saw other people doing the same (okay, they were running). They were real runners though. You can tell by what they are wearing. Usually a little cap, fitted pants to the ankles and a bright jacket that rounds about their bum. I thought to myself "self, why is that you never see really obese people running? You always just sort of see the fit ones doing it" (though I was out and about prancing around the side walks in my non-running clothes a.k.a not fitted joggers and my jacket that sticks, not rounds, to my bum)

I came to the conclusion it is for the same reason that only really busy people who already serve themselves dry in the Church are always the ones to volunteer their tired selves again and again.

Church obesity.

One last thing I discovered on my outdoor excursion is that if you run downhill it makes you look way more athletic than you really are. That and I think I have shin splints.

Death by Life

So here I sit, updating you lovely folk on my adventures.

It's now March (welcome) and I am embracing it with open arms and a full heart. Every month forward from when winter begins is a month closer to spring.

At my new job, I get every 7th week off so this week I have been "vacationing" in Edmonton. I've been visiting, sleeping, tanning, working out, eating and spending much needed time with my grandparents.

I can't help to think one day I'll wish it were today again when I can see them, touch them, hear them and smell the familiar smell of the house I know will go away when they do.


Death is not a topic we refrain from in our family. We know each others wishes (yes mom, we will bury your damn dogs with you) and it's a conversation that frequents our table talk. Today at the restaurant my mom was encouraging my papa (grandpa) to finish the sailboat he starting building years ago that (insert my gaggy (grandma)) "just sits in our bloody garage". My papa told my mom he plans to finish it. Either that or convert it into his coffin. I laughed heartily and we all rolled our eyes because we all know very well he wants to be cremated. A funny joke to probably just our table. More wine anyone?

Anyways. I am very much alive but I said to my family today, "just so you all know (since I realized I hadn't expressed it before) I'd like a coffin and a grave". They hope to never have to worry about those details since they think they should be long gone by the time it is my turn but "you never know". You simply never know.

I'd like a white coffin.