Monday 11 November 2013

What would you want to say to your child in 50 years time?


Recently, The Eldest brought home a time capsule, donated to each student at her school, for us to fill and return to school. The time capsule, then, would be stored in a new build in Ottawa, to be returned to the student and opened in 50 years time.

50 years time. Which, when one works out the math...hurts.

In 50 years time, The Eldest will be 54. The Youngest will be 52. Hubby and I will be 89, well past current life expectancy for both men and women, and therefore unlikely to still be here. And so I cried. A lot. And it made working out what to put into the time capsule incredibly hard.

What do you say to your children, 50 years down the track, not knowing the turns in their lives and what words they should receive / want to receive / need to receive from their (potentially deceased) parents.

Thankfully, The Eldest had some of her own ideas. She was insistent that we included some of her hair, so she could see what colour her hair was when she was four. So, into the time capsule, went two locks of hair, one for The Eldest and one for The Youngest, brown and straight, blonde and curly. Soft as silk.

In went a picture of her family under a rainbow, painstakingly drawn and coloured in.

Space, however was an issue. The time capsule was small. Very briefly, I contemplated putting in a USB drive with files on it, but considering how rapidly technology is changing, it could be rendered useless and therefore immensely disappointing. Whereas the written word can always be read (as long as the ink hasn't faded!!!).

Folded paper takes up a lot of space, so after a lot of thought, in to the time capsule went messages from their grandparents (what treasure!), a few photos of themselves, our dog and us as a family.

In went the blog posts I wrote to both girls for their birthdays this year A letter to the Eldest and A letter to the Youngest.

And lastly, a letter from us to them, parents to children, across half a century. What do you say to your children, 50 years down the track?

In the end, after starting the letter off with personal, pertinent, what their personalities and lives are like right now, I finished off with the following:


"We want you to know that we love you both more than words could possibly say. You have made our lives rich beyond words. Everyday is brighter because you are both in it. You both amaze us with your intelligence, your kindness, your generosity, your laughter, your observations of the world. There are never enough hours in the day for the time we want to spend with you watching you both grow. Time is flying by all to quickly and we wish we could freeze time, and keep you as you are now, gorgeous, cute, delightful, a wonder to behold. But if we did that, we would miss all the wonder that is to come. Watching you grow into beautiful young women with the world at your feet.

If you are reading this, 50 years will have passed. Fifty years of joy, sadness, happiness, pain, adventure, excitement. There will have been good times and hard times. We hope that regardless of what has happened, you will have been there for each other. Our greatest wishes for you are that you are happy, that you are close to each other and can rely on each other. We hope that you are surrounded by loving family, working in a job you love and finding time to enjoy life. We hope we developed in you a love of travel, of adventure. That you walk through this life with dignity, respect and honour. That you find time to laugh – a lot!

We may or may not still be with you physically, but we will always be with you in spirit. We are in the whisper of leaves as you walk down the street. We are in the gentle caress of wind on your cheek. We are in the smell of foods you remember, flowers you pick, the outdoors after it has rained. We are in the sound of rain as it gently falls and the colours of the rainbow. We were your first loves, your first friends and not time nor space can separate us.

We love you to the moon and back, our baby girls.
Always,
Mum and Dad xxx"

I hope with all my heart, that in fifty years time, life has been good to my girls. That they are happy. That they love, and are loved in return. 

(I hope the paper wasn't too tear stained). 

Will they ever actually get the time capsule? I hope so. And if they do, I hope they see it as something special, and that the words within give them joy as well as comfort. I hope I am still around, and with enough mental faculty left to share it with them. And if not, I hope I am there in spirit. 

And mostly, I want my words not to be new words. I want them to be words they heard from me a hundred thousand times over the next 50 years and that when they read my letter, it will be affirmation of how much we loved them, how beautiful, special and loved they are. That if they don't get the time capsule, they know those words anyway. 

And just to be safe, I have kept a copy, to pass on to them, in 50 years time regardless.

Jen xxx

*What would you write to your children?

*some inspiration for what I wrote in the final paragraph of my letter, came from a link on Facebook, that began with "your Mother is always with you'. It was credited 'Unknown".

Thursday 7 November 2013

Halloween

It has taken me a while to write this post. Apparently I am not immune to the bugs over here and have been hit hard with a chest infection and a double bout of gastro. I am learning the the more effective treatment methods involve not only antibiotics but also lots and lots of TV. But also, it has taken me a while to think about how to write about this post.

Halloween.

As an Australian, living in North America, we have been incredibly excited about Halloween. I am aware that a lot of my readers are Australian, and I saw a lot of Australians Hate Halloween posts on FB and  I have been mulling over the term Hate, and what a horrible word that is, and the strong emotion it evokes. I understand that Halloween is not an Australian tradition, but Hate? I guess, for me, with things like that, I just ignore if I don't want to be involved. No one asks you to dress up, buy candy, carve a pumpkin. And if kids in your neighbourhood annoy you with the door knocking, go out for the night.

So, opening myself up for criticism, I am going to state it - we LOVED our Halloween experience. For the past month, as we walk to and from school, and around our neighbourhood, we have delighted in the appearance of scarecrows (to celebrate Harvest) and pumpkins, both carved and uncarved. Squeals of delight and frantically pointed fingers frequently explode from inside the chariot, as both The Eldest and The Youngest point out the pumpkins, the scarecrows and the houses decorated for Halloween.








Some houses were 'scarier' than others. Not to the point of nightmares for my kids, but enough for us to generate a conversation as we walked about what we saw, and what that made us feel and why we might have felt that way. I don't believe for one minute that seeing a witch hanging from a porch railing, or a skull decorating someone's lawn is going to turn my children into pagan devil worshippers. I do believe that it taught the youngest how to overcome a 'scary' situation and choose bravery and courage in facing her fear of touching a headless horseman. Her delighted 'I touched it! I'm not scared', warmed my soul. May she find the strength within her as she grows to continue to face her fears head on - even if it is holding someone else's hand while she does.




I didn't go mad with the 'commercialism' of the event. I bought a $2 ghost for my door, cut out some bats and printed off a sign.

Just like Christmas though, there are people who go all out to make the event special for the spectators.





And we are incredibly proud of our new found pumpkin carving skills and created what we consider the traditional Jack-O-lantern complete with electric candles.





See, in case you didn't know, there is Halloween etiquette. If you welcome trick or treaters to your house, you put a lit up pumpkin out, turn on your porch light and wait for the eager, dressed up youth of the neighbourhood to knock of your door and gleefully accept handfuls of treats.

No light, no pumpkin, no knock.

The Eldest and The Youngest, unfazed by the rainy weather, dressed in their princess dress (The Eldest) and Minnie Mouse dress (the Youngest) and their raincoats, danced along the sidewalk in the dark, excitedly looking out for the houses with the pumpkins and porch lights. Together, they knocked on doors or rang door bells, and with all the bravery their 2 and 4 year old selves could muster, sang out 'trick or treat' clearly to the host of the house, holding out their baskets, scoring a bundle of candy and confidence at each house we visited. It was magical.




So, we may be Australian, but we LOVE Halloween. And if you had seen the sparkle in my girls eyes this month, and the sound of my 2 year old saying trick or treat, you would fall in love with Halloween too.

Jen x