i swore up and down that this blog wouldn’t become an adult version of my teenage diary a.k.a. filled with some super-happy entries and mostly super-sad (read: teenage angst) entries. the truth is, i still haven’t figured out what i plan to do with this blog, but one thing’s for sure – i still process pain by writing. and life isn’t just about happiness, so this blog will have some ache-y posts and somehow it’ll all balance out. writing is just my way of processing. and this blog has to be for me before it is for anyone else.
don’t worry, this post is not about teenage angst.
i walk home from work.
the last leg of my walk home takes me straight through the go bus station in downtown toronto. i walk in the section where the parked go buses sit i.e. it’s dark and there are only a few people around. so, i almost missed him.
a black man, wearing an olive coloured suit, maybe in his mid 30s or early 40s. and, he was disabled. i have no idea how to label various disabilities, so the only way i can describe it is, he had crutches and whatever condition it is that gives you the legs-splayed-out look as you try to walk. well, when i first saw him, he was bent over (one crutch on the ground) and trying *so* hard to pick up a big file folder that he had obviously dropped.
he had just managed to pick it up and then twist his hand around his crutch and also pick it up, when my brain registered that he might need help. but he didn’t look defeated, he looked determined. he then stuck the file under his armpit and awkwardly, his crutch, too, and took one brave step forward. and then another. and another. slowly.
and my heart just broke.
i could tell that picking up the file had taken a lot of strain, energy, pain… and that with every slow step, he was praying he wouldn’t drop it again. .. i didn’t want to stare, but i also couldn’t peel my eyes away.
It was 9:30 p.m., from the way he was dressed it seemed like he had maybe gone for an interview. Did it go well? Why isn’t wheel trans taking you around? Oh gosh, I hope you get that job. I wanted to run over and tell him to have a seat on a bench and that I’d come back with a zipcar and drive him home. Why, why, why do some people have it oh so hard? It just breaks my heart. i could just imagine the moment he dropped his folder. in the dark, with nobody around. nobody to ask for help and no way to move forward without it. what it must have drained from him mentally and physically.
i still haven’t gotten the image of him out of my head. i kept turning around to check on him, until i couldn’t see him. he slowly crossed the median… the median took him a good 20 seconds to climb onto and then climb off of. it was 9:30 p.m. nine thirty. and cold. i still have so many questions… but mostly my heart still aches. why is it so difficult for some? and what can i do to help?
this is now a long overdue post… but it was such a memorable trip that i want to have a record of it on this lil ol’ blog!
husband and i went to NYC as a mini get away before i began eleven months of articling. if i were to summarize the trip i’d use the words: eating, shopping, and lots of walking! i think 1 and 3 were the reasons i miraculously returned to Toronto without gaining a pound!
we flew Porter to and fro… what a brilliant airline – huge recommendations to everyone! and getting from Newark to NYC Penn Station was a breeze.
highlights of the trip:
- finally eating at Shake Shack (amaze)
- winning the front row seat lottery to go see Wicked!! We tried our luck on Friday night to no avail and then returned Saturday morning… and BOTH our names were pulled (we each put in a ballot asking for two tickets, so I forfeited my draw to another happy winner). What are the odds of that… everyone was telling us to go play the lottery after the show. And what a show it was! I laughed and cried, all before intermission.
- walking around Soho with husband
- chilling at Birdland for a Django Reinhardt tribute concert
so proud of Joe Fresh hitting 5th ave!
my winner 🙂
january was such a blur as every weekend, i was in toronto, condo hunting with husband. the good news is that, quite shockingly fast, we found a place.
at first, i was convinced the process would be arduous. a real feat of weeding through mediocre options while praying for a gold mine. as luck would have it, on our second outing, we found two gold mines. there was quite a bit of debate. but thankfully we both agreed on which one to put an offer on first. i honestly said the usual prayer – God if it’s meant to be, let it be, if it’s not, give it to another buyer. well, we beat the other offer by 1000. therein enters my peace with this blessing of a home.
now i can’t believe i’m going to be living the life of a young urbanite. i am in love with the location of our little pie in the sky. and consumed with thoughts of interior design. a bit overwhelming at times.
you know what else is overwhelming? my gratitude for being given this first home to create into ours.
my husband isn’t one to scream his love for me from a rooftop, or sing me songs, or write me poetry, or put on public shows of affection. i’ll even admit that he often doesn’t understand the need (some) women (like me) have, for little gifts, surprise gestures, little dates…
but this home is his love letter to me. i knew it the day he first got off the phone (looking like christmas morning) with the realtor. he walked over, scooped me up in his arms, looked deep into my brown eyes and said “i have wanted to share a home with you for so long and it’s finally going to happen.”
so, my gratitude for this man that dreamt of giving me a home continues…
oh, he does give me the sweetest kisses on the nose 🙂
…is probably a unique one!
Arjun and I are apart during the week, as I am at Law School in Kingston, 3 hours away from Toronto! So we get to live together only on the weekends. Granted it is not the ideal situation, but I’ll be back in Toronto with him, forever, at the end of this school year. And for two people who have never lived together, this whole living-together-on-the-weekends, is a great starter course haha! Also, every Friday, I wake up with a skip in my step, and the hour before he arrives is like the hour before opening Christmas presents. I’m giddy, bouncing off the walls, excited, and eager! I’ve also got in the habit of making him something special for when he walks in the door – lately the roster has been, a banana chocolate chip loaf, slow cooker lemon chicken, and today, some delicious chicken stir-fry! All this, as a thank you for the long 3 hour drive he’s completed just for me. And he is a Mr. Incredible, he drives back to Toronto at 4 or 5 am on Monday mornings, just so he can hold me for another night on Sunday 🙂 I love him, I really really do.
image from le love
I meant to get this set up a while ago, but this small thing called wedding planning got in the way.
Then the lovely Rhiannon posted our engagment pictures on her amazing blog, and I decided it was time!
As some of you know, I’ve always been an avid journaler and have forayed into blogging once or twice. Now, as I start this new chapter of my life, I want to have a clean slate for my thoughts and records. This blog is also inspired by Naomi who, I’d like to think, I share a similar worldview with. That is: focus on the little joys in life.
I know the journey ahead for my soon-to-be-husband and I will not always be smooth. But my God, I love him. And the way he loves little ol’ me just blows me away sometimes. I want this to blog to be a record of all the little joys in our marriage, come what may. If it inspires others, awesome. But most of all, I want it to inspire me. Me, who when times get rough, starts to have short-term memory loss of all the incredible times.
This will be my record. My record of love.
Which all begins, just three sleeps away….