Decorum

GRRRRRR!

I have so much to say right now about a number of people who are getting under my skin. I could have a whole hour long comedy show. I could write a blog right now that would have you rolling on the ground laughing your butts off at the ridiculous situations. You would also be laughing about the commonality of it and how much of it would ring true in your own life.

So why don't I you say? Because I am a decent human being who worries about the feelings of others. Because I don't want to hurt anyone. Because I believe in decorum. I think that privacy is important and I wouldn't ever want my embarrassing moments taken out and paraded around just for the sake of a laugh. Though I have noticed that many people who know things about me, such as undesirable personality traits, or physical features I loath, even fears I have, do not always keep decorum in mind, while they are teasing me or getting a laugh from a crowded room while reciting one of my shortcomings.

Decorum, the concept of which prescribes a specific kind of socially acceptable behavior for certain social situations. I have been really weighing the positive and negative sides of using my experience in real life to write about. I don't want to write a tragic tale though, or yet another self absorbed account of  a poor souls life. I am happy and live a happy life, so if I told my tale comically, it would be just that, a funny account of a profusely spicy life.

They problem is recognizing my own faults and poking fun at them is not nearly as funny if I don't poke fun at all the people who contributed and continue to contribute to my quirkiness, phobias, personality flaws and even some of the good stuff (although I think I should take credit for most of the good stuff). I just can't bring myself to go ahead and do it. The truth hurts. I have a hard enough time every saying the truth and hurting someone face to face, never mind attacking them behind their backs, in a secret novel, blog or article. I have thought of writing completely anonymously, the problem with that is, some of the characters in my life novel would just jump out and smack their real person in the face they are just so, errrr, uhhmmm individual?

I don't know if I will ever come to terms with it, I hope so, I don't want to silently suffer anymore ha ha ha. I want to let it all out. Maybe I can write and put a little disclaimer on my writing. "The expressed opinions are the opinions of the writer only, any family members, old friends, ex husbands and looney children have the right to write their own life story and defend themselves as they choose."

Hmmm, check in next week to see if I can defeat my addiction to social consideration, to see if I can overcome decorum, to see if there really is a decent person left on the face of the earth; who will not sell out their family secrets for money, fame, or just a laugh.

A bit more.

I drove to visit a sick relative in the hospital last week.  I still at that point, had not organized anything for my blog. I was driving around because I arrived too early to pay a visit.  I was going to head over to my grandmothers house to wait there.  On the way I passed a cemetery. I don't even know the name of it.  I never looked. I just found it a stunning site. As I was driving in the car contemplating how unfortunate it is in Canada, that we don't pay homage to fallen soldiers, or to our history as they do in America. Here was this cemetery that pops up in front of me, and it is covered with little Canadian Flags!  Why would this be? What was going on? Of course! It was memorial day for Vimy Ridge.

There were a number of ceremonies, and I was seeing the remnants of one. The waving flags, the flowers... The Cemetery had street signs that read, Flanders fields, and Normandy. It was moving, and where was I when the ceremonies where happening?

Here I am for about a month, wondering "where is Canada's patriotism, where is our National pride, and what are we teaching our children." I completely missed an opportunity to share history with my children, or just to participate with my community. I was driving at the time. Like I so often am, when I have some kind of revelation, or idea, or when I learn something.

I decided to drive through the cemetery. This got me thinking once again about that Cemetery where my great grandmother is buried. I made a mental note that I needed to get back there now that it was spring. P. and I decided to go this weekend.

We left on Saturday and made our way in that direction. I was so excited and jumped out of the car, I exchanged my heels for rubber boots, I came prepared this time. I started walking around the cemetery with my camera looking for this marker that would open my eyes, enlighten me, give me some info, possibly my great grandmothers date of death, at least a picture. It was freezing cold, it was windy and I couldn't find a marker. I found a couple but almost all of the markers that lay flat in the ground were so overgrown you couldn't make out one letter on them. I will have to do more research and find out where in the cemetery she is buried and go back with a map.

It was disappointing, but I am alive, and although I am curious about my ties to the past, we had some living relatives to go and visit and that is where we headed. The rest of my day was lovely spend with P's grandfather. A. enjoyed her visit with her great grandfather. The day was salvaged by my loved ones, and that is the way life should be.

Bigger than me.

I thought I would have some witty, comic, crazy stuff to write about. Maybe some kind of what not to do while travelling with kids, or the hillarious bloopers of our family holiday. Unless I make stuff up though I have nothing but awe, and fabulous memories to tell you.

Our family trip was miraculous, fun, amazingly smooth and humbling. The children all behaved better than expected, and everyone had a fantastic time, other than all the kids missing the parent they were away from.

I will probably have to blog in instalments there is just so much to tell. For the most part I am amazed at how small my world was and is. I am amazed that I have allowed my world to be so small. I have always thought that Americans, kinda went overboard on pushing their history and patriotism. I just thought that they didn't have to be so loud about everything. I never took an interest in American history.

To be in D.C. and take part in the various memorials, and museums, the architecture, the pride, it was overwhelming and some of it very humbling.

Every memorial, every monument and every bit of historic architecture that I visited, was powerful. I began to realize that the man made borders that proclaimed, this was a neighbor countries history and stories, did not put a border up between me and the human race. The politics and the history as told by a nation, may not be mine, but the individual stories. Stories from people who struggled, who triumphed. People who fought against the majority for what was right is my Nation, my people, the Human Race and every bit of history, mine or another nations, is as important as my own family history is to me.

It took forever for me to blog, it has been a month since our vacation. I procrastinated because there was so much to write, and I didn't know how to organize my thoughts into something viable and something that I felt would contribute to other people. I still don't think I am quite there yet, I have said in the simplest form possible what this trip meant to me and to my family, but I just can't convey the overwhelming grandeur of what I learned.

I came away from the trip envious of America, not so much for their History, Canada has history too. I was envious of how they treasure and husband their history, for how they make their history so accesible. The presentation of American Art, History, Monuments and Memorials was so well done I was moved on a number of occasions. I wish my children could walk down their streets, the places we live and work, and see that there is history, greatness and a future to build based on and learned from the past.