Admit it… you thought I was going to name this post March Break Madness. Frankly I did too.

But at the end of it, from where I am standing at least, it has been a pretty awesome week. It went by at the perfect pace. Not to fast to miss things – wouldn’t Ferris be proud?! And not to fast to get bored.

This was our first March break in a few years, having just come back from the States where they get off the week after Easter rather than the well-defined middle week of March. I would have preferred the Canadian way as a kid, myself.

Probably more importantly, it’s our first March break being city folk. I was amazed at how much there was to do in town for the kids. Tons of day camps and week long camps that if one had the disposable income were certainly worthy of it. But the free programs were abundant too. The library and the malls had things for kids to do other than read and shop. Things like swordfighting, previews of plays, skits, small circus acts, karate demonstrations, traveling zoos, and live talent shows! Man, where I come from the most interactive thing the mall did was pictures with Santa Clause at Christmas. I am heartily impressed. Yes, they came with advertising and yes, they were there to get you to spend money in their stores, but even still I applaud them.

At any show or tour or demonstration that we attended, the kids were always begging to go right up to the front. Apparently it’s just not that exciting if your nose isn’t half hanging over the stage. That’s where all the excitement is. But this left me, the parent, shuffling from foot to foot at the back of the audience all alone silently wondering if anyone can hear my inner three-year old saying, “But I want to have fun tooooo!” It didn’t take me long to find it.

I tried positioning myself to stand out of the sunlight. I tried positioning myself to see the show best. I tried finding somewhere to sit and still see the show better. I tried in vain. For I soon discovered that no vantage point was worth its salt or my two sore feet if I did not have a view of my children. And not really for the safety issue of being among strangers.

My fun was totally wrapped up in seeing the enjoyment on my children’s faces. Big, expressive, uncensored laughter, excitement, terror, inquiry, exploration. I watched a bit of the shows here and there, but my eyes always came back to two little heads and the thought of how lucky I am to have this time with them, to not have to pack them off to a babysitter for a week, to teach them how to be good mallrats and eat icecream while window shopping for an hour, to watch them smile and grow. It was a great March Break.

And the fact that I didn’t break an ankle this year helped a little too.

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I love wearing green… and I’m not afraid to admit it!

Ok, so why am I at the computer instead of cooking a feast? Good question… Bai!

ps. I have a million thoughts to convey. Just little time of late. More soon.

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That lost thread has now been found. In a very well-written post, Kate named what it was I could not grasp. Orual is us all. Please take a moment to go over to Heart to Heart and read her thoughts. I am still re-reading Till We Have Faces and am SO glad that this is the case for now I have new eyes – or perhaps less fogged up glasses – to continue on with.

But boy, if there was ever a single post to make me stop writing my own trumped up hero story here at Butterfly Confidential, it is Kate’s post. You’ve made me blush. You’ve made me consider what this impetus to write really is. You’ve been a good mirror.

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Illness, dementia, aging. They strip us bare.

Recently a patient died that I did not know that well. Yes, I had fed and dressed and cleaned her, but I wasn’t lucky enough to do it often enough to meet her family and learn who the illness was hiding. That secret emerged in the local newspaper. Her obituary was stunning. To say the least. A founder of this social justice program, a founder of this church, honored by these people for this and that and something else too. I sat dumbfounded, thinking of her, young and in these roles, a pioneer for women, her faith, her city.

She did. And then she needed. And I was there. I have no regrets. It’s just… how does one adequately express awe so strong that carries over weeks properly in words?

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you taught me that complaints are worthless. do something about it.

you taught me the value of hard work and the wonders of multi-tasking.

you taught me how observation can save someone’s skin.

you taught me how to say no i can’t save the whole world and give this person a bathe at the same time.

you taught me to laugh while working my ass off.

you taught me how they are just like us, and we are just like them.

you taught us all to be real.

it’s been a slice.

dedicated to someone who’ll never read this (tho… *thinking* a note in her lunchbox might work)

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