Tuesday, 27 January 2015

It's science.

A couple weeks ago, on a Saturday night, I went to my BFF's for dinner and drinks.  We stayed up late chatting with her hubby when she started telling a story.  But in the middle of her story, she laughed and then abruptly stopped talking.
I didn't understand what had just happened.

I looked at her with a confused look....and then at her hubby.

"What's wrong?"  I asked.

She laughed.  "Oh nothing!  Mike just doesn't like when I swear!  He doesn't think ladies should swear."

"You swore??"

I suddenly realized that I was the only one in the room who wasn't phased by her gratuitous language.

I looked over at Mike and asked, "Why don't you think ladies should swear??"

He answered casually, "Well.....it's just not very lady like, and I don't find it attractive."

And this conversation all came just a few days before I got a text from yet another girlfriend who wrote that she was trying not to swear as much.

I only had one response to both of these situations:

What the fuck was going on?

Swearing to me is not something you can just stop doing.  It's a way of life.  It's a way of de-stressing.  And I believe it's super healthy.

And for those of you who disagree, I bring your attention to several articles written on this topic.  The first article is written by Frederik Joelving entitled "Why the #$%! do we swear?". 

I know what you're thinking.  

No....I did not make this up....even though the author's name DOES look like something I would throw together for the purpose of a joke.  

And I would say it with a German accent.  Or Swedish.  Probably Swedish.  

Anyway, I digress.  The article tests the theory that swearing actually alleviates pain in uncomfortable situations.  Out of a group of individuals who were forced to keep their hands in ice-cold water, the ones who were allowed to curse throughout the process, were able to withstand a longer period of time in the water than the ones who were not allowed to swear.

I found this article in the magazine Scientific American, in the Mind & Brain section no less.

See??  Swearing is pain relief!  It's proven.  

It's science!

The second article I found on CBC News was entitled "What the....?"  and shows that swearing on the job can reduce stress and boost employee morale.  

Professor Yehuda Baruch, professor of management, states:

"Swearing was [seen] as a social phenomenon to reflect solidarity and enhance group cohesiveness, or as a psychological phenomenon to release stress."

I'm not making this up!  Although once again, the professor's name totally looks like something I would make up.

By the way, that article was in the Technology & Science section of CBC news.  So again, I must point out that this is all science.  You can't argue with science.

So in conclusion, for all of my friends who are trying to stop swearing, you are doing yourselves an injustice.  

Perhaps do what I do and hold back on the swearing in front of the little ones and elders.  We don't need a bunch of 3 year olds and 90 year olds dropping F-bombs everywhere....."Where's my F'ing DIAPERRRRR?!!!"  Can you imagine?

But for every other stressful situation, like when you're stuck in traffic, or shoveling snow, or you notice a pimple on your nose right before an important date.......swear!  Swear like you've never sworn before.  

I'm telling you....you'll feel a million times better.

You know why??

Because it's fucking science.  That's why ;)

Articles referenced in this amazing fucking blog:

Why the #$%! do we swear?

What the ...?

Tuesday, 20 January 2015

The year of the butt.

 Show of hands.....how many of you absolutely LOVE your body??

Ok....I just realized that I can't see you.

So I'm going to assume that only a few of you actually raised your hands.

If it's more than what I think, then awesome!  If it's less than what I think....then....uh-oh :(

My body is far from perfect.  Things aren't as perky as they used to be.  Things aren't as toned as they used to be.  And there are lines where there shouldn't be lines.  But heck, 2 children used my body as an apartment for almost 2 whole years of my life, and as we all know, tenants tend to be a little rough with a home that is only temporary to them ;)

Anyway, I'm not talking about the changes your body goes through after this said "residency".....what I am talking about is your body SHAPE.

I am a pear.

At least that's what Cosmo tells me.

If you are a pear like me, then you have a small upper body and a big badonkadonk.

Growing up, I always hated my body.

I was incredibly self-conscious of it. Tall girls weren't supposed to have big butts.  They were supposed to be sleek and slender.......all over.  At least that's what I thought.

It took me a LONG time to finally accept my pear figure. 

And thanks to the bootylicious bods of Kim Kardashian and Nicky Minaj, I'm pleased to say that the butt is BACK!


A couple months ago...

"Lodz!  Look at this picture of Kim Kardashian in Paper Magazine.  Look at her ass!!?  Isn't it crazy!"

I glanced over at my sister's phone and a very glossy and shiny posterior was staring back at me.

"Yowza!  That's massive!"  I said almost spitting out my coffee.

But even though I was completely shocked at the image, I couldn't stop staring at it.

It was like a car crash.

A HUGE car crash.

A MASSIVE pile up.

"I'm telling you Lodz.  This is YOUR year", Mishi said while nodding her head towards her phone.

"What do you mean?"  I looked up at my sister confused.

"It's the time for big asses to shine! Like yours!  This is YOUR time to shine!".

I took another sip of my coffee, looked down at Kim K and her shiny beast, and I noticed that my quizzical face had quietly turned into a little smirk....


Over the past few years, I have really grown to appreciate my body. Imperfections and all.

I think it's mostly because I have young and impressionable daughters who are watching my every move....and who, for their own sense of confidence, need to hear that Mommy is happy with who she is and how she looks.

I mean, that's what I had growing up.  A fabulous Mama who to this day has never once complained about extra weight, or wrinkles, or cellulite.  And who is probably the reason why I have a healthy relationship with how I look.

And at the end of the day, it's about how you feel about your body.....not what other people think, right?


Then why did I get a bit of a rush in seeing this crazy Kardashian flaunt her most famous asset?

And like Mishi said, was it really my time to shine?  Was it the year of the butt? 

I couldn't help but wonder, if you are confident in who you are and how you look, why did we still need that extra boost of approval?  That extra sense of security that lets you know that you are accepted.

Isn't it enough to just love yourself?


I'll never forget, about 15 years ago, leaving a club one night with my sister and my cousin.  Both girls were tall like me, but super skinny from top to bottom....unlike me.

We ran out of the club laughing and dancing when we suddenly heard a group of guys calling out to us.  I felt giddy and happy that they had chosen us to talk to.........until they made a not-so-nice comment about my butt.

My heart sank.

My sister looked at me and said, "Don't listen to those guys.  They're idiots."

I knew in my heart that I shouldn't care what those guys thought.  But I did. And it felt awful.


I came home that night feeling horrible about my body.

But even worse was knowing that one stupid comment from a stranger had changed my mood and how I felt about myself.


I think at the end of the day, we ALL want approval.  We all want to be loved and adored.

But there will always be people who will dislike the way you look. 

Sure, I got a rise from Kim K and her perfect booty.  But maybe not for the reason I initially thought.

Perhaps I just loved that she loved her body. 

And to be able to just put it out there knowing that there would be people who would hate it and make horrible comments.

To love yourself and not care about the haters.......well, that's really something.  Especially for a girl.

Because the year of the butt will not last.    Next year it might be the year of waif.....or the year of the brunette.

And let's be honest.....God knows that I won't be able to achieve either of those!

So for now, I will revel in the spotlight and enjoy "my year".  And for anything that follows, I hope my love for my body will never again be out-weighed by comments from the cheap seats ;)

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

What's your test?

This is my third entry of the new year.  

But you already know that because you are diligently reading all of my entries as soon as I post them...right?? :)

In my new years blog, I discussed with you some resolutions, and the fact that I will not be partaking in any of them.  And in my next entry, I delved into some juicy tidbits about my delicious personal life ;)

Let's move on to some serious stuff now, shall we?  

It's time to get real.

In the past 2 weeks, I have been reading all of my friends Facebook status updates....and I have to say....they have not looked good.

Many of my good friends said that 2014 was a bad year.  Some even said that it was the "worst year of their lives".  

As I read each status update, I thought of the person who wrote it.  All of them friends of mine who are truly beautiful people, inside and out.  

Why were all of these people having a bad year? Surely the whole year couldn't have been ALL bad? 

I couldn't help but wonder, when you have a bad year, what's the reason behind it?  Is it the people around you, is it the universe .......or is it just you?

I am going into my 3rd year of a brutal separation.  Over 2 years in court, and still nothing has been finalized.  

No settlement.  No divorce.  Nothing.

For me, most of 2014 was spent in the courthouse and in lawyer's offices trying to protect my children, and protect myself.

It has not been fun.  

But all that said, I would still not say that 2014 was the worst year of my life.  Heck, I wouldn't even say that 2013 was the worst year of my life....and that one was a real doozy!!!

So now I sit back and wonder, what DOES it take to make it a horrible year for someone?  

Well, I think it comes down to perspective.

It depends on how you view your difficult moments and your hard times.

I've written several times about "loving your transitions".....but I'm realizing that this is a very tough concept for many people to accept. 

In the past 2 years, I have had many people reach out to me.  Some of them to offer support, and others, looking for support.

Most of them wondering, how the hell I have survived.....or rather, continue to survive this mess, and very often looking to me for advice on how they can cope with their own bad situations.

Well, my advice always starts off with my 2 favorite quotes.   "It is what it is" and "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger".   

But easier to say these quotes than to actually believe them.

To move on from a bad breakup, a bad day, a bad 'anything' ....you have to accept what happened and just move on.

If you keep reminding yourself of how unfair that situation was or how horrible your life has been, you'll never move forward.  You will be stuck in a cycle of negativity.

But what happens if you accept it, and another bad thing happens?  And then another?  And then another?

What happens if, like me, you were hit with a barrage of crap for an entire year?

In the past year, I have been repeatedly bombarded with rude and arrogant emails, accusations and negativity .....all from the person who I once loved more than anything in the whole world.  

How do you cope with something like that?  Especially when it's nonstop?

Well, here's what I did.  

For the situations that I could control, I did everything in my power to change things for the better. 

And for the things I couldn't control, I just......well.......let go.

Hey....if it worked for Elsa.....it can work for anyone right? ;)

I threw my hands up to the universe and to God and asked out loud "You got this??  Cause I need a break!"

I'm not saying I checked out.

What I am saying is that things got too hard....and I needed to take a back seat.

I needed to let go of the control....and let things play out on their own.

There's a reason why so many bad things happened to me in one year.  

Maybe life needed to toughen me up.  Maybe I needed to be awakened.  And maybe I needed to see things for what they really were.

Don't believe that you need to be happy all the time.  That's a myth.

Believe instead that life is an incredible journey.  And at times you'll be tested.  

And that's not a bad thing.


I'll never forget when things were at their "worst" for me last year.

My life was draining me.  In fact I was completely depleted. 

I called my sister sobbing.  Again. 

I remember her trying to coach me on how to get over my feelings of pure sadness and failure.  But I didn't want her to coach me.  I wanted her to listen to me vent and cry like a baby.

Luckily for me, she had no patience for that.

I remember telling her that things would just never get better for me.  And that the worst was still yet to come.

She huffed, and said very simply....

"Well, if you think that, then you're doomed.  And if you continue to think that, then you will never climb out of this hole".

When she heard that I didn't respond, she softened her voice and continued....

"You have to BELIEVE....truly believe.....that life is happening the way it's supposed to.  You have to love your experiences....as bad as they are.... because everything will be fine."


I truly believe that on that day, I was tested.  And I passed.

And I continue to be tested.  And I continue to pass.

But I know....that unless I pass....I won't make it to the next level.

And somehow, that stops me from ever saying that my experiences are the worst :)

This blog is dedicated to my beautiful sister.  A person who pushed me so BEYOND my comfort zone.....that the uncomfortable became the most comforting place I could be in.  I love you Mish xoxo

Tuesday, 6 January 2015

Isn't it ironic?

You know when you know something about yourself but you don't really reflect on it much?  It's just something that's in your personality and reveals itself only when the time calls for it.  

Kind of like a pot sitting on the back-burner.  Without thinking much of it, the pot quietly warms your food while you tend to other things.  But then, at a certain time, you pull that dish forward and use it to complete your meal. Otherwise.... well, your meal wouldn't be perfect.

My dish, or vice as I prefer to call it, comes in the form of a particular type of energy between 2 people...... 

In the past 2 years, I have been happily single.  I am in zero rush to find that next person in my life, because the few days every now and then that I get to be alone, I greatly cherish.  I am not interested in being in a relationship, but I do enjoy the search.

As I've mentioned in a past blog, I joined Match.com in an effort to attract a tall, smart, educated, funny, knows-how-to-cook, family-oriented, hard-working, romantic, looking for the love of his life... man.  

I know what you're thinking.   

He should also have a full head of hair.  

Yes...I totally agree. 

Anyway, as soon as I joined, I was overwhelmed with the response.  I suddenly had men "winking" at me, "liking" my photos and sending me sweet little messages, "hey there beautiful" .... 

For the most part, there were some pretty solid guys.  

There were also the ones that called themselves "maplefart" and "69forlife"....but let's save those guys for another blog entry discussion, shall we?

I enjoyed getting to know the guys who, on paper, seemed to have everything I was looking for.

Well.....almost everything.

And this is where my vice comes in to play.  In the midst of connecting with these new guys.....my proverbial pot on the back-burner had suddenly been moved forward and had become the main dish in the menu.   

Suddenly, it became very clear to me that there was something that I absolutely needed to have in a potential relationship. 

I didn't think it was such a big deal to me until I realized with these men that it was missing.

That missing thing........chemistry.  

The energy and spark that can take a couple from the "friends" level to something much more interesting.

And even though, these men had so many of the qualities I was looking for, it still wasn't enough for me.

The chemistry wasn't there.

Without it, hence without the last dish, your menu is incomplete.  

Your dinner ends up being simple, plain and boring.   

And Leo doesn't do simple, plain and boring :)


It was Saturday night and I was getting ready for my date.   I applied a light-mauve lipstick and tousled my hair a bit.  I was going for a casual but sexy look.

I took one last glance in the mirror before leaving and figured that the look I had been striving for had finally been achieved.  

It was time to go.....and see what the night had in store for me.

When I finally got to our meeting place, my date was already standing at the door and waiting for me.  

One look at him and I bit my lower lip and smiled.  The only word that registered in my head was "dammnnnnnn"!

He was wearing a shirt that very clearly defined what was underneath it, and it took me a moment to realize that I was not staring at his face as I walked towards him.  

When I finally looked up, I noticed that his hair was on the shorter side, but slightly tousled as well.  Apparently we both got the memo to strive for 'casual and sexy' tonight.

We were finally face to face.  

And I felt at that moment that what I had been longing for recently, and what was missing with the other guys, was VERY present between the 2 of us.
And even though it had been a very long time since we last saw each other, it had felt like no time had passed at all.  

Clearly he felt it too, because he couldn't even wait until after dinner before stealing a very, yummy kiss.

The friend who once said to me  "I had a dream about you last night" still had a way of making my spine tingle every time I was with him.  A guy who managed to change our once very platonic friendship into something that was much more delicious.  All with those 8 simple little words.  

And although we don't see each other often, there is some sort of chemical attraction that continues to pull us back together when too much time has passed.

Something that we are both very aware of ....and something that we both never ignore.

Now THAT'S chemistry.


In a world where everyone is dying to know who you're with and what your status is, it's nice to keep a few little secrets to yourself.  

To skip out of town, without anyone knowing. To share a delicious weekend with someone beautiful and be able to forget about life and all of it's stresses.....

Well, I'll just say that for me.....it takes a really hot dish to change up the menu like that ;)


As we lay there contently, him running his fingers up and down my arm, he suddenly asks me:

"Do you remember when we met?"

I shook my head no and made a funny face.  

He laughed.  He of all people knew how horrible my memory was!

He continued on....

"I cracked a joke and you were the only one that laughed at it"

I laughed out loud, thinking that was definitely something I would do.  Since day one I always thought he was the funniest guy.

"Yeah.  I remember that day perfectly" he continued,  "In chemistry class."

Well, isn't that ironic?  


For the prequel to this journey, click on the following:

It all starts with a dream

Tuesday, 30 December 2014

Happy New Years!

Top 20 New Years Resolutions for 2015!

Enjoy :)

1.  Wear less red lipstick.

2.  Don't swear as much.

3.  Don't listen to Guns N Roses as if they just released new music yesterday.

4.  Stop wearing track suits and UGGs like....everyday.

5.  Do not eat Nutella from the jar anymore (Even though it is THE most delicious jar/spoon snack in the entire universe).

6.  Start working out. 

7.  And stop calling the walk from the car to the mall a "workout".

8.  Try a more delicate laugh.  One that is less like a hyena or donkey and more like a sweet, little chickadee.

9.  When nervous, do not bite nails. Instead, try a yoga inversion pose in which you hang upside down at your waist.  Even if you are in a public place.  People won't judge.  I'm almost sure of it.

10.  Read books that are not only found in the TEEN section of the library.

11.  Watch the news.  And not just the Life & Style Weekly updates that get posted to your Facebook page.

12.  Drink no more than 1 cup of coffee a day.  2.  3.  Ok....no more than 4 cups of coffee a day.

13.  Learn how to drive and talk at the same time. (This one might take a few more years).

14.  Stop burping in public.

15.  Stop telling the same stories over and over....and over again.  (Even though they are EXTREMELY funny and the whole world should be thanking you for telling such hilarity).

16.  Stop taking lines from movies and using them as your own.  (Again....even though they are EXTREMELY funny and the whole world should be thanking you for REPEATING such hilarity).

17.  Stop rolling your eyes at your neighbor who talks to his dog like, all the time, but then tell your dog he's the most beautiful dog in the entire world and then try to pretend that the 2 situations are not the same because your dog really is more superior to all other dogs in the neighborhood....and should thus be spoken to like an adult.

18.  Stop bleaching hair.

19.  Stop blowing kisses or doing "ducky face" to the camera.

20.  No more selfies.

There, all done.

By the way.......I'm not sure who these resolutions are for? 

They're certainly not for me!

I just thought I'd be nice and throw some ideas up for you guys.

I will continue doing all these things in 2015....AND BEYOND!!! 

Personally, I think New Years resolutions can suck it :)



Leo xoxoxo

ps- shameless selfie WITH a ducky/blowing kiss face.  TAKE THAT!  ;) xo

Tuesday, 23 December 2014

The clubbing zombie.

"Mishi?  Is this where Indian Motorcycle used to be??"  I ask my sister while pointing out my cab window.

"LODZ!!"  Mishi yells my name angrily in Polish from the back of the cab.  (It's pronounced "ludge") 

"STOP asking where Indian Motorcycle used to be!  You do this EVERY TIME we come to Toronto.  EVERY TIME!!  NO, that's not where Indian Motorcycle used to be.  It was on the other corner.  You sound SO OLD right now!"

I sit back quietly in the passenger seat.

I can feel the cab driver looking at me but I don't turn my head towards him.  I will not give him the satisfaction of looking back.

I rest my elbow on the cab door and rest my chin on my hand.  

"It was a really good club."  I whisper quietly.

After a few more seconds, Mishi and her friends burst out laughing.

Yes, perhaps I am "dating" myself by reminiscing about my party-girl days and the old nightclubs I used to frequent in Toronto.  But how could I not?  Those years were some of the most insane years of my life! This is London, The Eleventh Hour and Indian Motorcycle were second homes to me back in my 20's!  I remember going to work on a Monday morning and counting the hours until I was back on a dance floor.  

I was literally "working for the weekend".

"Here you are" the cab driver said.   The car came to a stop and we all jumped out.  

Because of my gorgeous and super connected friends, we didn't have to wait in line in the freezing cold.  Instead the bouncer removed the chain and let us in as soon as he saw us.  The rest of the line looked on in envy as we scurried in.

And within minutes our coats were off, we had drinks in our hands and I was gettin' my groove on in the middle of the dance floor.  

Do people still say 'gettin' my groove on'?? 

Anyway....that's what I was doing.

But even though I was having a blast.....something wasn't right.  

I was feeling a weird energy around me. 

It wasn't my girls.....and it wasn't the music.  It was something else.....

I slowly scanned the club.  

I looked to my left.

I looked to my right.


I was surrounded by.......CLUBBING ZOMBIES!!

Let me explain.

The clubbing zombie is a unique type of party person, and a term I coined recently for the growing number of this population.

The clubbing zombie is a person that clubs and parties all the time....BUT has ZERO reaction to anything that happens in the club.  They basically just stand there and drink their drinks and check their phones and don't interact with anyone in the club.  They barely dance at all.....or if they do, it's a very slow bob up and down while they look to see if anyone is staring at them.  Once in a while, they'll check out their competition....and if they see someone that looks like them, then they'll give them a look that basically says "I will eat you alive".  Hence the 'zombie' part of the term.

I only hoped to God that no one in the club was a 5'10" blonde like me.....otherwise I was a goner!

I tried to ignore the fact that I was surrounded by these clubbing zombies or the fact that I was pretty much the ONLY one busting a move on the dance floor.  

Does anyone still say 'busting a move' ??  

Anyway, suddenly..... I felt it.  I felt eyes piercing through my back...and through my very fuzzy and fabulous faux fur vest.  (Say that 10 times fast!!)

I slowly turned around.... and there they were.

Two tall women with platinum blonde hair staring me down. 

Shit!!!  They found me!!

Our friend, Bianka suddenly announced, "Girls... we're getting into VIP.  Let's go."

Oh thank God.

I grabbed my purse quickly and ran after my sister and her friends just before the two blonde zombies started their slow and weird catwalk towards me.

It was not like this back in my party-girl days.

Sure...we had clubbing zombies back then..... but it was different.   There weren't as many of them.  And because we didn't have cell phones or texting back in the 90's, people were actually forced to communicate in person and didn't have a phone to hide behind.  

People were forced into having fun.  

Good 'ol fashioned, act stupid, dance your ass off, get-drunk FUN!  

Now, there seems to be a different agenda.  

Even in the nightclub, people are stopping to add each other to Instagram and Facebook and Twitter.  Everyone is so worried about how many "friends" they have and how they look to the public that they are forgetting about the music and the environment and letting loose and going crazy.

Now, don't get me wrong.  I love Facebook and Instagram as much as the next person, but an old fogie like me will almost never stop dancing to check my phone.  I'm too old for technology to stop me in the middle of my kick-ass dance moves. 

Does anyone still say 'kick-ass dance moves'??

Anyway, I felt much better in the VIP lounge.  Obvi!

There were still some zombies up here, but at least there were fewer of them.....and none that looked like me. For the most part, everyone up here was having fun and dancing up a storm.

Do people still say 'dancing up a storm'??

I looked down to the dance floor and saw the 2 tall blondes trying to figure out a way to get into VIP.  They caught me looking at them and gave me the dirtiest look ever.  I quickly boogied away from their line of sight.

Sadly I feel that clubbing will never be the same as it used to.  And maybe that's not such a bad thing.  The new generation is doing things their own way and that's what they like.  And I guess I'll just become an occasional visitor to their new turf.

But as long as I'm there, I will 'pump up the jam', I will 'jump around' and I will 'vogue' til my arms hurt.

Cause you know what......'you can't touch this'.


ps - Here's a pic of us from our night out in Toronto.  Obviously you can tell which one is me.  The one who's having WAY too much fun.  

And the one who's in the fuzzy and fabulous faux fur vest ;)  


Tuesday, 16 December 2014

A time of peace.

It was 8 years ago that my Dad passed away from cancer.

I'll never forget the day that he left us.  December 14th, 2006.

After months and months of pain and suffering, it was inevitable that my Dad was not going to survive this horrible disease.  Not only had the cancer taken away his energy, his muscle tone and his strength....but it had taken away something worse.  His spirit.  

His last week was spent in the palliative care ward in the hospital and there wasn't a moment that he was left alone.  

In the last few days of his life I had grown numb.  I knew what was happening and I didn't really want to face it, so I had blocked off my own emotions in order to look strong and happy whenever my Dad laid his eyes on me.

We had slept in my Dad's hospital room almost every night for that last week.  We made beds by putting the lounge chairs together.  Our discomfort was nothing in comparison to what my father had been going through for the last few months, so we didn't complain.  But we also couldn't sleep.

But one night, miraculously, we all fell asleep.  

And I had somehow sunk into the deepest slumber I had ever gone into.  

It took several attempts from a nurse to wake me a couple of hours later. I opened my eyes and she sat quietly to give me a few seconds to get my bearings. 

When she saw that I knew where I was and that I was coherent enough to understand what she was going to say, she whispered,

"Your father has passed.  I'm so sorry".

I looked up at the clock in the room.  


I didn't know what to say.  

I mean, there really is nothing to say when your world suddenly stops.


To this day I wonder why my Dad was taken from us so early.  

He was the healthiest man I knew.  He played tennis everyday, he was in amazing shape, and his diet consisted mainly of fruits and vegetables.  

And he lived for his family.

I am a girl who believes in fate, and believes that everything happens for a reason.  But a loved one's death is one thing that my heart and mind struggle with all the time. 

I think of my Dad very, very often. 

And even though he has been gone for 8 years, he is still so present in our family.  For just recently I have caught glimpses of him in my sister, my brother, my mom, my aunt and my children.  And every night when I strip off all the makeup and foundation, I look into the very same eyes that I inherited from my Dad.  An eye-color that my Aunt once described as "not beautiful blue like your Moder's eyes but grey like your Fadder's" :)


Last Sunday I couldn't get to sleep.  

Of course I couldn't....it was December 14th. 

I did everything I could to avoid going to bed and being alone with my thoughts.  I watched a movie, I did a load of laundry, and I read my book.  

It was already much later than when I would normally go to bed, so I turned off the light and tried to force myself to sleep.

But I couldn't.  My head was spinning with thoughts of those last hours in the hospital with my Dad. I was feeling so many mixed emotions.  Sadness, anger, frustration......everything was eating me up inside.  

How would I get through the night?

I flipped over in bed once more and did what I try never to do when I can't get to sleep.  I opened my eyes and looked at the time.  

And there, staring back at me, was a time that was permanently engrained in my mind....


My head dropped back down to the pillow, and almost immediately, peace washed over me.

And I instantly fell asleep.

I may never know why my Dad was taken from me so early.  

But I will feel a sense of peace knowing that he is in a better place.

And that he is always watching over me.