MOG # 15: The "change" room

Thoughts about today; you can't let who you are stop you from saying what someone needs to hear. It's about empathy, not sympathy; the difference is that empathy uses words like 'understand', 'relate', 'resonate', 'share', where as sympathy means 'I'm sorry for you', 'I'll think of you' and the worst 'that's so awful'. You don't have to be sixteen and pregnant to help out a girl who is sixteen and pregnant. You could be a 21 year old male thinking hypothetically. You may think "I've never been a girl, I'll never be pregnant and I'm not sixteen" would stop you from getting through to her, but what you need to do is recognize the feelings that this individual could be experiencing- loneliness, being scared, being unsure. That's the difference between empathy and sympathy; you don't have to be the same to understand, you just need to recognize the needs of another. This mentality fits nicely with the post from one of my favourite girls, Dana. This beautiful thing and I met through work and became fastest of friends when we were at the same site. We're so alike it's crazy, and she's probably the one person that I could never see myself being angry with, there's just too much love in her dancing soul to do transgress anyone. Tonight she sent me some beautiful words that showcases what it means to be there for someone, even a stranger. A truly touching mog; proof that random ones happen everyday. 

So I figure that moments of gratitude can range between anything from a huge, selfless gesture, to simply complimenting someone at a random moment during your day. This specific moment falls on the latter idea of the phrase.

I have a pretty simple job. I work retail at Victoria’s Secret, nothing too exciting. Sometimes I'm on cash, and as the last employee encounter of the customer, I should definitely have a smile on my face and be friendly, obviously. I could also be working on the floor, greeting customers as they enter, helping them if needed. But I must say my favorite place to work is the fitting room. I never knew how much a bra can actual change a women’s life.

The other day I had a nice lady come in to try on a new bathing suit. I didn’t think much of it, asked her name for the card on the door, gave her mine and let her know to ask for anything if she needed it. A few minutes later, the bell rang and the button on her door lit up. She let me in her room and stood quiet for a minute, so I asked if she liked everything she picked out and if she needed me to grab any other sizes. She turned to me with the most genuine look, and if I saw it right almost a little bit of disparity, and simply asked “be honest, do you think this looks okay?”

Now normally (as an employee) I’d either say it looked nice if I thought so, or suggest another option that she might like better. But this time I felt like she was asking for more than my opinion. This woman was approximately in her mid-40’s, and for that she looked fantastic. She was tall, fit and healthy looking so obviously I didn’t hesitate to let her know how bomb she looked in her coral two-piece bikini. She then turned back to herself in the mirror and smiled at herself. Just then her eyes then started to tear up a little and she took a deep breath in. Before I had a chance to ask if she was okay, she waved her hand in the air in a sort of this-is-so-silly manner and let me in on what she was thinking.

She told me she had just booked a trip to Florida over March Break with her two daughters and husband. You would assume it was your everyday family trip, until she revealed that this is her first in a very long time. She then turns to the side and shows me a dimple on her left hip as she places her hand over the left side of her chest. This lovely woman had just gotten back on her game after a hip replacement as well as a mastectomy. She said she is now healthy and that this trip is a celebration. She hadn’t been in a bikini since she was 34, and really needed an honest opinion.

Her face looked confused, as though she was caught in a weird place between joy and sadness, and I couldn’t understand why this seemed so bittersweet for her. She then to another deep breath and exhaled into a smile, a genuinely happy smile. I couldn’t help but smile back at her in the mirror and say “congratulations.” It hit me then that this was so much more for her than just finding a new swimsuit. It was a step into a new part of her life. It was actually the first day of the rest of her life, and to be a part of it is something I will never forget.

On her way out she stopped, gave me a quick hug, and said the most genuine “thank you” I have ever received from someone. I didn’t actually do very much in that moment, but I'm so thankful to have been a part of such a wonderful step in a stranger’s life. This was not the only woman who has had a mastectomy that I have worked with, and not the only one I have seen get emotional whether it is tears of joy or literally jumping for excitement when they find the right bra. It sounds cheesy, but its really more than just a bra for these women. Moral of the story; you don’t know someone else’s story. The simplest compliment or gesture that takes all of 2 seconds out of your day can literally mean the world to someone else.

MOG #14: New

Another beautiufl and talented lady, and an example that not all posts have to reach a word count to reach an audience. I'm not sure how Stef and I met, but we're both from the same town and one creep of her social media accounts and I know we would be great friends. She's studying photography and her pictures simply speak for themselves; so much so that I asked her to feature a photography-based submission.  She's got a killer voice, something that you'll buy off iTunes one day.

You can check her out here: https://www.facebook.com/StefanieDaugilisMusic?ref=br_tf

My moments of gratitude is nothing huge; it may even sound cliche, but it made stop and think. For the New Year, I am trying my best to take the smallest of moments in my life and just take the time to look at and appreciate them.

In the first photo, I came across on a super cold night in which I was probably complaining about, but when I looked down at my feet I smiled! The second photo was on New Years Eve as my boyfriend and I were heading into Toronto to celebrate the New Year and it too made me smile.

Just small things that usually go unnoticed have become my moments of gratitude.

"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things."

- Robert Brault

Stef Daugilis xox

MOG: #12: More than Sparks

Before I introduce our next contributor I have to take a minute and talk to you all. Yesterday we hit 1027 pageviews by 10:00am, by the next 24 hours another 494 were added to the list... that's almost HALF of the first count. I am in complete shock. Thank you all so much for coming back and reading and maybe even rereading these words. You're all becoming part of something much bigger than just a blog. I cannot thank you enough.
LETS KEEP POSTING, SHALL WE?!

Here we have Pauline, one of the sweetest girls in the world. We met through work that happened to be my first summer at camp. I will always remember her patience and her kindness- it's easy to see why she's in Education. We haven't kept too much in touch, but after she saw Jackie's post, she messaged me with hers. This is the first person that has reached out to me first; everyone else I have either prompted or had a conversation with prior to their posting. It's starting, it's really starting. Anyways, Pauline's Facebook statuses give me hope that I'll find a job one day; she's worked her way up to her position, has spent countless hours bettering her skills and resume and always tops it of with a thank you or gratitude- centered reflection. She embodies this project. Her are some beautiful words from a truly beautiful girl.

My Oma and Opa (Dutch terminology for “Grandma and Grandpa”) have been extremely influential people in my life. My mom has had some health concerns over the years and so my big brother and I used to stay with our Oma and Opa quite a bit. They were always there for us, whether it was sharing hot chocolate and cookies after church on Sundays, rubbing my back until I fell asleep when I had a bad case of bronchitis as a little girl, or playing intensely competitive games of Uno. The most important lesson they shared and always modeled however, was pure and unconditional love. My Oma and Opa are the real deal version of true love, and every Nicholas Sparks book. They only ever dated each other, and after years of marriage would still wittily banter back and forth, and shared a look in their eyes that you just knew exactly how they felt for one another.

A few years ago, my Oma was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease. I remember her studying small facts that she thought she might be quizzed on at the Doctor’s office, such as birthdays and important dates. I remember reading everything I could about Alzheimer’s, and fully understanding what was to come, but not truly accepting it. At first, nothing seemed to change really, but then things started rapidly digressing and I knew it was only a matter of time before she would forget who I was. Last Christmas, when she was leaving my parent’s house from our family dinner she looked me in the eyes, and made me promise her I would have a good life. I broke down as soon as I turned away from her and in a way I knew this was her way of telling me goodbye.

My Oma was fortunate enough to be placed in a wonderful long term care facility in Ancaster, approximately ten minutes away from her and my Opa’s house. This broke his heart but he was unable to safely care for her at home anymore. However, he goes to see her twice a day, every day to sit with her while she has breakfast and lunch. I wanted to come along with my Opa on these visits, but I am ashamed to say I was afraid to go see my Oma at first in this new setting. I was anxious about how different things would be, and the pain I would feel when she didn’t recognize me. Then something happened. My younger cousin tragically and unexpectedly passed away. I realized we never know how much time we have with the people we love. And I wasn’t afraid anymore of how things would be different with my Oma, because the important thing was she is still here, and I still had the chance to show her I loved her, whether she knew me or not, I just wanted her to know she is loved.

My Oma may seem different now in many ways. We can’t have a typical conversation, and she may not recognize who I am. But the first visit I had with her, as soon as she looked in my eyes, and let me hug her and hold her hand, I knew those things didn’t matter. Now I go to see her every Sunday. On our last visit together, sitting between my Oma and Opa, watching them look at each other, while she held my hand, one of the other residents walked by and simply said “These people look so happy”. This is my moment of gratitude I hold onto. Love and happiness are powerful entities and are not bound by time, illness or memory. 

MOG #11: Sarah

It took me a few days to post this MOG, mostly because I didn’t want to open it. I just got back to school and knew that I needed a time to read this one carefully, not between boxes on the floor or the spare minutes between lectures. It’s a combination of the subject matter and the person who wrote it. Taylor has been my rock for the majority of University; from crying about roommates in second year, to spending hours in Chapters during the summer and countless drives around the city, talking about everything and anything. She is the most supportive friend I’ve ever had. She gives me more strength than I realize most times, all because she encourages me to talk, gives me the words I need to hear and then always brings it back to the big picture. She’s in the midst of a life overhaul, building both physical and mental strength; a force to be reckoned with, a rock I couldn’t survive without and a woman with more intelligence, grace and ferocity that most. This MOG is one of the real reasons I started this project; Taylor did something for someone else and both parties are grateful for that. It’s as simple as that. She’s going to take the world by storm one day very soon. It’s as simple as that.

Mare and I went out tonight, first to Target then typically to a froyo shop and then to Starbucks.  Eventually we ended up downtown, at the lake.  We looked at the ice, ran around a little and then decided to go home as we started to feel the cold.  I wanted to go up Brant Street but as I got halfway in the lane to turn, I did something dangerous and changed my mind, swerving back and driving along the lake.  I never pass up an opportunity to drive along Lakeshore and pick a random street to take home and this time, something took me to Appleby.

 As we head North, Mary and I are being nostalgic and talking about past summers because what else do millennial’s do these days? Mid laugh I see something in my peripheral and realize it’s a woman waving frantically on the sidewalk, a woman just a few years older than me. She looks just like me, like my friends, people I went to school with or I pass on a walk with my dog after dinner.  This situation is a bit different.  She’s terrified, she’s intoxicated…but she’s terrified.  We start to learn her boyfriend left her to find her own way home (which is in another city) and a white truck is now circling her and she is literally fearing for her life; I could see it.  Explaining the situation does not give our emotions justice. 

Mary and I had spent the night looking on Instagram and Snapchat on our phones and by this point we were almost out of battery. Now these apps seem so unimportant. Within a few minutes we let her in my car, it’s starting to snow and the temperature is dropping but mostly we just need to get her out of this situation.  She’s lost.  She starts talking about her kids, this guy who left her stranded and she tells us her name is Sarah.  Mary and I whisper to each other in the front – how do we fix this?  We called the nearby women’s shelters while I drove, but they were full and the next one was a town over. Our next safest bet was to drop her off at the hospital which is the first place Sarah suggested.  That makes me wonder, has she been in this situation before?  Once I knew where I was taking her I started to talk more and shake less. “He does not deserve you”, “you are going to be ok”, “he is too negative to be in your life” – all things I’ve said to close friends but this time, the words feel completely different when we say them to her.

As we get to the hospital she starts to thank us and get out of the car.  Mary and I grasp to find words, anything that might help her, make her realize she has a choice, she can surround herself with positive people and that she is not alone.  How do you explain to someone in that state, that you yourself have been hit by a partner or have been treated so poorly? As she left to close the door and go into the hospital, she said something I know Mary and I will remember forever.  Sarah looked at both of us, and in the clearest, most confident voice we’ve heard all night,  “I wish I was you, not me”.

For the past handful of months I have been volunteering in an environment where this type of activity happens regularly.  Although this moment didn’t shock or surprise me, it still made me pause.  Pause for a long time.  It is so easy for this situation to happen to anyone and I’d like to think that as long as I live, those around me will never get themselves so entangled into a situation like this.  Don’t let your phone run out of battery.  Listen to your gut.  Make time to consciously build self-worth through learning or expression.  It’s not always about helping others as much as life is about helping yourself and each other.  Sarah kept mentioning she has a nice house and car; she was dressed in expensive jeans, nice sweater vest and a Lulu Lemon headband,  as if trying to prove to two twenty something’s that she is successful. 

I hope people realize that no matter how successful they may appear to be, they too can find themselves in a hopeless situation.  I hope Sarah wasn’t trying to explain herself to us because she assumed we would judge. I hope that Sarah continued to find people who were open and willing to help that night and I hope she finds them throughout the rest of her life.  

 

MOG #10: Mr. Z

Jackie is our next writer, one of my favourite hometown heroines.  Jackie and I share a passion for teaching and shared further little pieces of solace about our chosen profession. To be honest, I wish I could be a student in her classroom before I have my own; there is so much to learn from this smart, driven girl. Full of love, energy, adventure, compassion and destined for success, Jac is one of those people you don’t have to worry about; she’s gonna figure it out. You’re going to know she’s going to find success in the future, in her own way, to affect hundreds of bright, young and sharp minds like hers. She’s also one of the biggest supporters of this project and has plans to write several MOGs… I couldn’t ask for a more fitting contributor, as Jackie embodies the whole idea of this effort to acknowledge gratitude everyday. Also I call her Jacyonce... she's just super fierce. Thanks for writing, girl!!

Currently, I am living my dream at my dream school for teachers college (which was a major goal in itself), having the opportunity to witness MOG’s on a daily basis.

This past semester I was placed in a grade 3 class at a school in Burlington. I had the most amazing experience, especially because of one particular student in my class (who will now be referred to as Mr. Z). Mr. Z came into our class in September as a very shy, somewhat passive aggressive student, who seemed to stick to himself. Once Mr. Z became comfortable in our classroom, he was able to open up about his family and living situations, which were by no means great, and started to build relationships with both the students and myself. I learned a lot about the realities of children’s lives, and began to realize how privileged I was. Not only did I have the opportunity to go home to a real home with food and water, but also I had a family, a strong family, that would support me no matter what.  

One cold December day, Mr. Z came up to me while I was outside on morning duty with a very upset look on his face. We talked quite a lot, and I knew that he thought of me as a trustworthy adult, so I asked him what was wrong. Mr. Z explained to me that he was no longer excited for his birthday the next day because his mom told him that they couldn’t afford a cake. He was quite upset, and it truly broke my heart. I have worked with kids for the past 6 years and have witnessed various situations, but for some reason I couldn’t stop thinking about this. When I told my teacher she agreed that it was upsetting but reminded me that for birthdays students got a small treat bag and a card from the class. However, I knew this wasn’t enough, not for a special kid like Mr. Z who came to school as his safe place.

That night, I went home and told my mom what I was planning on doing, and she almost cried. I haven’t seen my mom cry too many times in my life. The next day at lunchtime I asked Mr. Z to come to the back room with me. I then asked him to close his eyes, while I secretly (and excitedly), placed a delicious homemade chocolate cupcake onto his hand. His reaction...priceless.

It is moments like these that remind me why I not only want to be a teacher, but also that life gives us so many opportunities to do great things. For me, it was such an easy thing to pack an extra cupcake in my lunch, but for him, it was life changing. He told me that it was his best birthday yet, and gave me the biggest hug I could ask for.

For now, I will continue to remember about Mr. Z and his cupcake, and I know that the teachers at my school will remember it too. We need to always remember that it’s the little things in life, like a delicious chocolate cupcake, that keep us going and not to stress so much on the little things.

With love,

Jackie 

MOG #9: Unhooking

Guy we have hit a new record; three posts in one day!!!
There's this one girlfriend I have who I always run into at the times where I need someone the most. She's a friend from home who has a way of putting the pieces of my puzzling dilemenas together into combinations that I never would think could work. I've run into the girl in random stairwells, grocery stores, trains, buses, abandoned hallways, lines for classes.. all at times where I felt like I just needed a familiar face, I could look up and find her's smiling in with a all knowing smile and quiet little wink that's just characteristic  of her. These run ins are  completely welcome and  more appreciated then she'll ever know.Most recently I was in the drive thru at the bank and she happened to walk by my car as soon as I pulled through. Kathleen and I got off to a rocky start in high school, but eventually found that we have a wicked degree of mutual respect for one another. it was like we were being forced to be friends, so much so that we keep running into each other in the most random of places. Her post is the ultimate read for anyone needing to kick old habits. Thank you so much for your submission and I can't wait to read more from you. 

It has been 8 years since we first met each other. In the last 8 years he has taught me an inordinate amount of things for better and for worse. On the positive side, I have learned about forgiveness, patience, grace, love, being mindful of my words and my body language and how the male brain works. On the negative side, I have learned the confusing and frustrating territory of being close to a guy and the feelings of attraction that can eventually arise because of that closeness; then the resulting feelings of inadequacy and devalue that follow with unsettled thoughts and feelings and muddy lines drawn on the playing field of our friendship.

 I have run the gamut of emotions; from loving him unconditionally to being as close as I could get to severely disliking him. High school was easier. We saw each other a lot and shared a lot of life. I have beautiful memories of art class and spending more time painting pictures with our words then with our paintbrushes. I remember the hours and hours of phone calls about nothing and everything. University changed all that. He went first, I followed a year later. He was in Toronto, I was in St. Catharines. It has been a tangled mess of communication or lack thereof and periodic face to face encounters since then. It has not been ideal, though in my head he has been my ideal for several years because he has been my kryptonite. However on Christmas break 2013 I came to a realization.

I cannot do this anymore. I cannot be this second choice, sidelined, back up girl, available whenever he feels like coming back, not saying anything, not putting up a fight, just going with it. I do not want to be some sort of second choice. Not for him, and not for anyone. In my reflection about this realization and subsequent decision I likened it to being a fish on a hook. As I do with most realizations and personal reflections I wrote a song about it so I could make sense of what was going on in my mind and heart. I’m digging that hook out of my skin. Yes, that is what I am doing. I am not going to need him. I am going to be my own girl again. If he comes back I will not just let myself get reeled in. It is about time.

I have wonderful friends and I will probably talk about them in a future post but for now I will just say that when I started telling them my resolve to get off his hook and ‘swim away’ I was met by joyous smiles and hugs. It was exactly what I need(ed) to assure me that I am making the right decision.

My MOG was when I woke up one day not too long ago, looked in the mirror and realized that I was well on my way to freedom. I felt free, the hook and line that had been holding me captive was drawing away. Actually, it is not the hook and line that is letting me go, I am the one letting go. It is a good way to started 2014.  I’m digging that hook out of my skin. 

MOG #8: A letter of Acceptance

I once read that there are two kinds of best friends, the first being the kind that update each other all the time, spend as much time together as possible and overall never miss a minute of each other’s lives. Then they are the kind that may not talk as frequently but that’s because they don’t need to, for every time they are reunited they just pick back up where they left off and keep establishing the fantastic friendship they have relied on for years.  I have the latter relationship with our next contributor, whom I am so excited to feature. Alex and I have been in each other’s lives for over 13 years and I’m beyond grateful to call her my oldest and best friend. It’s more like we’re sisters at this point. She’s knows my taste, varying Starbucks order depending on my mood, how I  would react to certain situations but also tell me exactly need to hear. She’s honestly like the best mirror I’ve ever had.  It’s nonstop laughs, heart to hearts, finishing each other’s sentences; a relationship built on give and take. To anyone else that is just as lucky, Alex is the definition of a good friend; loyal, supportive, hilarious and  considerate. She’s off to do great things and I can’t wait to see what differences she will make in which ever company, firm or district that finds themselves lucky to have her.

Over the past 6 years, I have been lucky enough to work with individuals who have special needs and disabilities. The age range that I work with is a large one, spanning from the age of 4, to some as old at 70 or 80. While spending time with the younger ones can sometimes feels more like baby sitting than anything else, I have found myself building some incredible friendships with members of the more mature crowd. 

One of these friends is an almost 23-year-old man who always has a lot to say. Matthew Dougan is without doubt the most talkative guy in the room at any given moment, referring to himself in the third person by his last name, and greeting me with a booming “How’s it going, trouble?!” nearly every time he sees me. 

For the last 2-3 years, when my shifts at the program have come far and few between, Dougan and I continuously send e-mails back and forth. Updating one another with what is new and exciting in each other’s lives. These e-mails usually consist of updates from his hockey team, and a guilt trip for why I didn’t attend his last game. This morning however, I received a message with some amazing news. Since about last year, Matthew has been working extremely hard in an attempt to get into a program at Mohawk College. Having not being accepted for the September semester, Dougan did'nt skip a beat and continued to work for a January acceptance.

He did it. He starts at his new school this Wednesday, and when I read the news I was overcome with an immense amount of pride.
 

I am all too aware that individuals with special needs are almost always underestimated, and overlooked. Knowing first hand that this should never be the case, seeing my friend achieve his goal and fulfill part of his dream was my moment of gratitude. Thankful not only for have amazing individuals like Matthew in my life, but also for programs like the one at Mohawk that are giving individuals a leg up for the world waiting for them.