MOG #92: What are the chances?

Stories like this one from Kristyn give me chills. How lucky are we to find signs from loved ones, even when they aren't with us anymore? Have you had a similar experience?

This past Saturday, I experienced two rare moments in the span of a few hours. Before I can explain the two instances, you have the know the back story to how all of this started and why my family continues to be amazed by these moments.

We lost my Grandma in January of 2010 on New Years Day. It was rough, we had spent Christmas together but you could tell that her health was deteriorating fast. I arrived back in Burlington a couple of days after Christmas and was preparing to go back to U Ottawa for second semester. However, on January 1st we received a call from one of my Aunts. My Grandma was deteriorating fast and if my mom wanted to say goodbye, she had to book a flight out to JFK. My mom’s flight was scheduled for a late departure, but somehow she got onto a earlier flight that allowed her to make it to Long Island and say goodbye to her mother with her three sisters, and my cousins.  A difficult funeral followed, having to say goodbye to a woman who raised four women and nurtured 7 granddaughters was not easy. It’s suffice to say she has had a substantial impact on my life despite living in another country. Life got back to normal once I returned to Ottawa and resumed school, but here is where it gets weird.

I started to find dimes, not every day but every once and a while. At first I thought nothing of it, I was just randomly finding dimes. I would find them in my binders, on the ground, the front porch, in my soccer bag, etc. One day on the phone, I told my mom that I kept finding dimes, and she instantly just said “that’s Grandma, that’s Ire”. She explained that my aunts and cousins had been finding dimes as well, along with my mom herself and my sister. Since then every time I find a dime, its like she’s with me or that she’s saying “I’m here”. Some people may think it’s foolish but it’s helped my entire family deal with the loss of our matriarch. It’s not uncommon for my sister and my cousins to iMessage each other when we find one, it’s become a constant part of our lives. Now that you know the back story, I can tell you about Saturday.

This past Saturday was kind of a big deal, I had a event that had been in the works since early August and I was nervous for it. All of the planning was completed, everything was set up and ready to go but I was stressed. I woke up on Saturday full of anxiety, which only happens when I’m nervous. I got dressed, grabbed my running shoes and went downstairs to finish getting ready. My dad was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper, he knew I had a event but didn’t say much. I was sitting on the stairs about to put my left shoe on and guess what I find? A dime.

I instantly told my dad, who just shook his head and laughed. I took a picture of the dime, sent a quick message to my family iMessage group and put the dime in my pocket. I then wrote my mom a note telling her I found a dime and walked out the door. I got to work and started the last minute tasks in regards to the event. Eventually I needed to leave the facility I was at, and go to another one to get supplies. Not a big deal, I just had to move some stuff from the back of my car to the trunk before I could leave. Except, a woman was waiting for my parking spot and was getting impatient. I in return, started to move faster and wasn't really paying attention to my personal possessions. I got in my car and left, driving to our other facility.

Once I got there I was busy grabbing supplies when my phone rang, it was my supervisor. He asked me, if I was missing anything. Instantly a wave of fear came over me, I knew I was missing my wristlet. I had put my cell phone, wristlet and keys on top of my car when I was moving stuff to the trunk. He then proceeded to tell me that my coworker who I share an office with, had dropped it off. He was driving at least a km from our office, when he saw a wallet on the ground. He passed it, but eventually turned around thinking he should go pick it up. Imagine his surprise when he opened it and found my licence, credit cards, etc. He then drove to our office and dropped it off, where I repeatedly thanked him. He wasn’t supposed to come into work on Saturday, he just happened to be driving by and saw a wallet on the ground. It was just such a weird coincidence that he, out of the 176,000 people that live in Burlington would find my wristlet. I instantly just got that feeling, it was my Grandma.

Whether you choose to believe it or not, it’s up to you. Sure it’s a coincidence, but it’s one of the weirdest I have ever experienced. To find a dime in my shoe and then to lose my wristlet, only to find out my coworker found it on the side of the road is more than enough for me. On Saturday I was grateful for my Grandma and her ability to continue to influence my life in a positive way. 

MOG #91: A life to live

"I read your blog today and it got me thinking...": this. This has to be one of the best things to hear. Once again, gratitude is best understood when shared, so thanks to Lily for this submission! 

During the first week of school I was super excited to be back and was looking forward to the year ahead, but was also filled with many anxieties. I worried about how fourth year classes were going to be, about starting a new prescription for my recently diagnosed ADD, and how I was going to manage working full time while also being a full time student. Two days before my first class I was in a horrible head-on collision and totaled my car. Luckily I managed to walk away with some minor head pain and back injuries, however it sent a downward spiral on my life (or so I thought). I was already dealing with so much anxiety, now I had this thrown at me… what was I going to do? How was I going to get back and forth from St. Catharines to Burlington for work and school? Was I going to have to quit my job? How much money was this going to cost me? Why would this happen to me? Did I do something to deserve this? I spent the next two days wallowing in self-pity, feeling sorry for myself and angry that life had thrown me this curveball at the worst possible time.

Little did I know that the week ahead was about to bring me a much-needed change in perspective.

Over the course of the two days after the accident I spent every minute with my mom (something we had not done for a while due to my busy work schedule), and at the end of the weekend she said to me “Okay, you have had your cry, now no more. It is time to put on your big girl socks and move on with your life. You have a lot to be thankful for! Look how much time we got to spend with each other. I think I have seen you more in the past two days than I have all summer!” It suddenly hit me that she was right. I had a life to live! A life that could have been taken away in one quick moment of impact, but it wasn't! This was my Moment of Gratitude- I was thankful for the gift of life.

There was no room for being depressed or feeling sorry myself, I wasn't about to let a material object negatively effect my life. So I began to focus on the things in my life that I had to be thankful for. I told myself that everything happens for a reason and even though that reason might not be clear yet, it would eventually all work out. And it sure did, more so than I ever imagined. I had some quality mother- daughter bonding time with my mom, and was reminded of just how amazing she is and how lucky I am to have her in my life. Then I decided to quit my job and spend the semester focusing on school. Next, I looked into taking another course; and in the process of looking into it I had a surprise run in with an old friend. We caught up on our lives and then one thing lead to another and the next day I was changing my major! The result could not have been more perfect… all the courses I had taken up to that point were not going to waste, PLUS it would be more beneficial for my future career.  Things were really starting to fall into place.

This past month was life changing for me; I have truly had a change in my perspective of life… of how to live. I now understand what these curveballs can do. This is the first time in my life I have truly felt I am exactly where I need to be, and it just feels right (I know, pretty cheesy eh). I can’t help but believe that this big change wouldn't have happened if it weren’t for the accident. In some weird twisted way I guess I needed it to experience this major #MOG. Sometimes life throws us these curveballs that set our lives into chaos. I truly believe that we are only thrown them because we are strong enough to overcome them. So even when life throws you a curveball – which it will – and it seems as though you have a million things trying to push you down, think of one positive thought that you have to be thankful for then hold on to it and let it radiate your soul. Find these “little things” in your life every day and you will soon realize just how rich you really are. 

MOG #90: Who's there?

Cate finds gratitude in finding her way home again, literally...

Early on I thought that since this was my last year of being an undergrad at Brock University, I had simply run out of ‘firsts.’

First 90? Check!

First 50? …Check ☹

First fight with a housemate? Ugh, check.

First time getting lost using St. Catharine’s transit? Oh yes.

First legal drink at Isaacs? Hell yeah!

So it seemed like I had gone through all the firsts many students would experience – the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. What I didn’t realize was that I was completely, and utterly wrong about my assumption.

You see, I had it easy during the last three years. I lived at home so that meant that I didn’t need to worry about cooked meals, clean and folded laundry, and I certainly didn’t need to worry about not having a reliable ride to places because I had a car (not my own, mind you). Have you noticed that I like lists, yet?

Anyways, so after a summer filled with driving back and forth from Stoney Creek to St. Catharine’s, working 3 part-time jobs that equaled to about 45h work weeks, I didn’t realize that I would go through as many firsts as I once did.  I moved to St. Catharine’s for the duration of the school year (I made the leap!) and left my beloved red Honda Civic at my parent’s house. Gone are the easy days and hello to public transportation.

Okay, cool, I don’t mind taking the bus. It’ll be fine. Everyone is doing it. It’s easy.

I try to keep a positive attitude about it all.

But let me tell you, my first full day of living in this town was not as easy as I thought it would be. First of all, the idea that the bus comes every 30 minutes just wasn’t sticking and I couldn’t figure out what time the bus would get to the stop in front of my student house, outbound or inbound. And then there were other busses like the 16, 116, 122, 124 that I could be taking in order to get where I needed to be and though it may be so simple to other students, I just wasn’t getting it.

So not only was it pissing rain last Tuesday when I finally figured out which bus to take to go get groceries, I run into my new co-worker Karam who kindly offered to give me a lift home in his car because he knew my pains: it sucks having to carry an arm load of groceries in the rain.

Fast forward to 8:30pm when I’m standing at the same bus stop needing a ride to work an overnight shift at the Pen Centre. I learned very fast (and in the most unfortunate way) that the bus I was waiting for does not stop in front of my house, but does stop at the very end of the street. In other words, the bus drove right by me. I frantically call up my friend Aamir who lives a street over from my house and who was just about to step into the shower after an intense gym session, and he generously gives me a ride to work. I jump out of the car and hear him say, “Hey, anything for you!”

I’d like to say that the inconveniences end here but oh, there’s more. It’s 2:00am and I had just gotten off work. I call three different cab numbers to no avail. The fourth was a success – to a degree. The guy on the other end of the phone cited a 5 to 15 minute wait for a cab. I thought, Okay, no big deal. Small price to pay to ensure that I don’t get attacked while walking home.

5 minutes goes by. 15 minutes. 35 minutes. Where was this cab? I call back and another woman picks up and cites another 30 minute to 1 hour wait because the previous man had cited me too short of a time frame. This woman ensured me that the cab would be there soon. Not wanting to risk another minute and keeping in mind that I had work at 9:30am that morning, I texted another good friend Liam with the simple “Are you awake?” message. Not 10 minutes later, he was at the entrance of the mall and I was on my way home.

So what I got 4h of sleep that night? So what I was having the worst luck in terms of transportation? So what I miss my car? All of that didn’t matter because I was having the best, worst day of my life.

It was the last, first day of my undergrad career and all of this happened, and I honestly could not be happier. These three individuals, whom I’ve known ranging from 2 days to 4 years, were all there for me no questions asked. They were even happy to pay me such favors. How incredible is that? And though in my heart I have to find some way to pay them back for their kindness, I am so grateful to have these people in my life.

These men will go far in life not because of their intelligence or skills or even their good looks, but in fact their hearts will take them as far as the eye can see. These men, they are my moments of gratitude.

MOG #89: 911

Alexandra is back for her second #mog, and writes once again with a passion unlike anyone I've encountered, and once again proves how easy it so to find things to be grateful for, as long as you just take a good look... 

There are some stories that I will remember for the rest of my life, and this is one of them.I decided it would be fun to have a couple of my closest friends from high school come over to my apartment and hang out together before school started up again. So, the weekend before school started, my high school friends drove from all over the province, from their different schools and spent the night. It was great to all be together in the same room again. It felt like no time had passed between us since the last time we were all together, even though we were missing a few people. It felt like the first time in a long time where I truly let go of everything, and just enjoyed the night. I wasn’t worried about school, my job, anything. All I thought about was the company in my living room. And it was great. We played some card games, and one of our favourites, The Game of Things. (For a bit of context, Things is a game where each player writes down one “thing” that relates to the given category, and other players have to guess who said which thing.) We had a few drinks, lots of junk food, and an endless amount of laughter.

The night started to wind down a little when my one friend started feeling a little off, saying he just needed to sit down for a minute. His breathing got heavy, and his heartbeat irregular. Even though I knew he didn’t drink that much, I knew that these were the beginning signs of the alcohol poisoning he suffered the last time we were together, a few months before. Air mattresses were blown up, and my friend was lying down on it, saying that he just needed to focus on his breathing. That was when I really started to worry. The rest of my friends settled into their own make-shift beds around 2:30 in the morning, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep yet. So, I started to clear away empty bottles, pick up pieces of popcorn, and also pick up all of the Things slips that ended up on the floor (and we played that game a lot, there were lots of pieces of paper on the ground). When I was satisfied with the amount that I had cleaned, and knew I couldn’t progress further without risking waking one of my friends, I headed to my own bedroom to get ready for bed. I listened for a minute to the sound of my friend’s heavy breathing, and decided to read a chapter of my book before heading to sleep, so I would still be awake just in case.


Before I could finish two pages, I heard voices from the other room, rustling, and then watched my friend walk to the bathroom, wrapped up in his blankets. He sat on the bathroom floor, leaning against the counter. I walked in and knelt down next to him. “Just in case,” he whispered. We spent the next few minutes on the bathroom floor, me rubbing his back, him focusing on breathing, me freaking out, him shivering and trembling. Finally, at 3 o’clock, we decided to call an ambulance. After what happened to him last time, I did not want to take any chances. So, I sat down on the edge of the tub beside him, my thumb hoovering over the number 9. “Don’t be scared,” he said, comforting me. And I stopped for a moment. As nervous as I was to call 911, I knew my friend needed the help. He was sick, he was the one who needed help, and he was the one comforting me. It was that moment that I became aware of just how grateful I am to have him as a friend. After knowing him for years.

The paramedics came, and we went to the hospital. We spent five long hours in the small emergency room. A nurse would occasionally pop their head in to tell us that “the ER doc will be seeing you shortly” or that “the ER docs are just switching their shifts, so there might be a bit more of a delay”. We had never really spent more than 20 minutes together, just the two of us, in all of the years of knowing each other. The only times we saw each other outside of school was at parties, and I was always closer with his girlfriend (of three and a half years, they’re so adorable). We spent five hours asking each other questions, telling each other stories, realizing just how much we have in common. We decided that we would make more of an effort this year to stay in touch, because there were so many times this passed year that we could’ve helped each other out. We also decided: no more drinking.

At 8:30 in the morning, we walked outside, feeling the bright, hot sunshine, and the freedom from the hospital. And we went straight to McDonalds for breakfast. The rest of the partygoers had to leave shortly after breakfast, because I had a meeting during the day. But after getting no sleep at all, I was not going to let my friend drive an hour to get home. So, he slept in my apartment while I went out. He texted me a few hours later, an interesting message that read: “Funniest part of this all. I wake up and pack my air mattress and this is the Things slip of paper I find:” and a picture of the slip that read: Dial 911. It was the only slip I didn’t pick up the night before.

He dropped off my keys, endlessly thanking me for everything, and with a hug goodbye, he drove home. When I got back to my apartment a few hours later, he cleaned the whole thing, right down to drying the dishes and putting them away, and he left a pile of snacks on the counter for me. I stopped and stared for a minute.

I’m so grateful for so many things that happened that night, that I feel completely overwhelmed with gratitude. For my friend’s health, for the company of my old friends, for the laughter and the fun, for spending the night at the hospital and turning it into an enjoyable time, for McDonalds breakfast sandwiches, for everything. Mostly, for people who, even at their worst, are determined to make things the best that they can be for other people.