I follow a lot of news. Some days I wonder if it is too much. I have always been interested in it. When I was in elementary school I knew I wanted to be a journalist. That is one thing about me that did not change throughout childhood and adolescence. Writing was something I enjoyed. It came easy to me.
Yet as the time came for me to choose post secondary education, life took a turn I did not expect. I had one university write me and ask me to apply. I was on my Principal's list of top students. I did not apply there but did apply at two schools in Ontario. I was asked to come out for an interview yet I did not. I applied to a local college but, for reasons I won't go into here but can say had nothing to do with my qualifications, was not accepted and then found a local Bible College with a Communications program. They accepted me almost immediately. So I studied. I wrote. I learned. I grew. I wondered. I travelled.
I also discovered Ireland. I am not Irish. I look like I am and the youth I worked with in Dublin said I was one of them. I am Icelandic. That is besides the point here though.
During my studies and travels I learned a lot about Irish history. It was a choice I made in Graduate studies. I read, studied and learned a lot both here in Canada and in Ireland. I used to go to the Irish Club in the West End every week to use their library. A lovely gentleman named Ciaran used to be available to answer all my questions. I learned a lot.
Through my studies of Ireland, England and Northern Ireland I came to realise if you want to change a society, reach out to mothers. They are strong, even though society often ignores them. They are loving. Even when they are harsh, their children will always believe them. (I have seen many abused and neglected children over the years and was always amazed at how they continued to believe their mothers' word even if what the mother promised was impossible.)
So news. Here in Winnipeg this week we have all been following the story of a family most of us never knew. A mother, a father, a mother-in-law and two children. Suddenly the family is only the father and his mother. The rest is so heartbreaking it is hard to comprehend. Yet I followed the story. My heart was heavy for this family and for those who responded to the call for help. I cannot even begin to imagine arriving at a home where two wee ones have drowned in a bath.
It also made me think of the many friends I have who are mothers. I admire them. I esteem them. I value them. I applaud them. I love them dearly. I also try to support them as much as I can. Some friends I am able to see more regularly. In those instances, I love their children, build relationship with them, invest in them and spend as much time with them as I can. In some cases, I am able to mind the children whilst the mums go out. That is something I love to do. Leave your child in my care knowing he or she will be cared for and loved so you can take care of yourself. Relax. Do what YOU want to do. Take your time. I love them and their children.
I know in the case of the Gibson family it went SO much deeper than that. Lisa needed professional help. She needed a lot of supports. I am not judging. I am not condemning. Not at all. Nor am I implying something as simple as someone coming over for a few hours would have helped her.
What this story does is cause me to stop and think of all the women I know giving of themselves every moment of everyday to raise little people to become gracious, loving, kind, generous big people. I do not have children. I will probably never have children. Yet I absolutely adore children! Those two things add up to me wanting to invest in the lives of mums whom I love.
I am not saying fathers are unimportant. They are. I am simply talking about the delicate, beautiful relationship between a child and a mum. It is truly an amazing thing to behold. Let us, as a society, nurture this, help this be beautiful and support this.
Yet as the time came for me to choose post secondary education, life took a turn I did not expect. I had one university write me and ask me to apply. I was on my Principal's list of top students. I did not apply there but did apply at two schools in Ontario. I was asked to come out for an interview yet I did not. I applied to a local college but, for reasons I won't go into here but can say had nothing to do with my qualifications, was not accepted and then found a local Bible College with a Communications program. They accepted me almost immediately. So I studied. I wrote. I learned. I grew. I wondered. I travelled.
I also discovered Ireland. I am not Irish. I look like I am and the youth I worked with in Dublin said I was one of them. I am Icelandic. That is besides the point here though.
During my studies and travels I learned a lot about Irish history. It was a choice I made in Graduate studies. I read, studied and learned a lot both here in Canada and in Ireland. I used to go to the Irish Club in the West End every week to use their library. A lovely gentleman named Ciaran used to be available to answer all my questions. I learned a lot.
Through my studies of Ireland, England and Northern Ireland I came to realise if you want to change a society, reach out to mothers. They are strong, even though society often ignores them. They are loving. Even when they are harsh, their children will always believe them. (I have seen many abused and neglected children over the years and was always amazed at how they continued to believe their mothers' word even if what the mother promised was impossible.)
So news. Here in Winnipeg this week we have all been following the story of a family most of us never knew. A mother, a father, a mother-in-law and two children. Suddenly the family is only the father and his mother. The rest is so heartbreaking it is hard to comprehend. Yet I followed the story. My heart was heavy for this family and for those who responded to the call for help. I cannot even begin to imagine arriving at a home where two wee ones have drowned in a bath.
It also made me think of the many friends I have who are mothers. I admire them. I esteem them. I value them. I applaud them. I love them dearly. I also try to support them as much as I can. Some friends I am able to see more regularly. In those instances, I love their children, build relationship with them, invest in them and spend as much time with them as I can. In some cases, I am able to mind the children whilst the mums go out. That is something I love to do. Leave your child in my care knowing he or she will be cared for and loved so you can take care of yourself. Relax. Do what YOU want to do. Take your time. I love them and their children.
I know in the case of the Gibson family it went SO much deeper than that. Lisa needed professional help. She needed a lot of supports. I am not judging. I am not condemning. Not at all. Nor am I implying something as simple as someone coming over for a few hours would have helped her.
What this story does is cause me to stop and think of all the women I know giving of themselves every moment of everyday to raise little people to become gracious, loving, kind, generous big people. I do not have children. I will probably never have children. Yet I absolutely adore children! Those two things add up to me wanting to invest in the lives of mums whom I love.
I am not saying fathers are unimportant. They are. I am simply talking about the delicate, beautiful relationship between a child and a mum. It is truly an amazing thing to behold. Let us, as a society, nurture this, help this be beautiful and support this.
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