After we dropped her big sisters off at summer camp, Maddie got her parents’ undivided attention for a few hours at the beach. Sun, sand, ducks, water goggles, new families to adopt on the beach, slushies in the middle of the week (she was SO thrilled we broke the “weekend only” rule), plastic shovels and pails, a waterfall – what’s not to like?
Remember our disappointment when we found out Marcel had not been accepted into the education program? Well, we got good news today. They found a spot for him!
It seems a little coaxing (I wrote a letter to the university expressing our disappointment and Marcel wrote a letter to the admissions committee asking for an opportunity to appeal the decision in person) went a long way, because a spot seems to have opened up. A little perseverance goes a long way now and then!
In September, it will be back to the books again for him. And in two years, some lucky high school students will learn history from a man who’s passionate about it and who cares about their future.
(Thanks Gina for the inspiration! Your story encouraged us to persevere. 🙂
(Warning: not a post for the young or faint of heart.)
Yesterday, as I drove home from getting my hair cut, I listened to an interview with three of the victims of this horrific crime. I pulled into a parking lot and sat and cried as they re-told stories that were uncomfortably close to my own story. As painful as it was, I couldn’t turn it off because I knew I had to honour our shared history and their bravery to tell their stories.
Seventeen years later, and they still live with the scars – physical and emotional – of what that man did to them. One of them slept for years under her dining room table because she thought that if someone broke in again, he would look in the bed and wouldn’t think to look in the kitchen. Anything to preserve her safety. I didn’t sleep under a table, but I remember long nights of staring at dark windows, wondering if the shadows I saw there were human.
Two of them have come forward, releasing their names to the press, defying the public to blame the victim, standing up for women like them. Like me. In the coming forward though, they had to first tell the story to their young children, born since the crime.
I wonder, nineteen years after I faced what they faced, if the perpetrator were caught, would I come forward and let my name and my story be public? Would I face the barrage of media, wanting to know every horrid detail? I think I would, for the sake of the other women still dealing with the scars.
But my tears refused to stop as I imagined the day I have to tell my daughters. Some day, they will know that the world can be a horrible place and that people can do evil things. Some day, they will know that deviant sexual desires can cause people to do bad things to people like their mommy.
Not much of a post today – just stopping by in the middle of a busy and fun long weekend to say happy belated Canada Day (to my Canadian friends) and happy 4th of July in advance (to my American friends). I hope you’re having as much fun as we’re having this weekend – a picnic in the park, a visit to the Canada Day celebrations at The Forks, refreshments on our friends’ deck, a stroll through Assiniboine Park topped off with an ice cream treat, a barbecue at Marcel’s parents’ place, a nice family bike ride to and from church, Canada Day fireworks downtown – and it’s not over yet. Tomorrow, we hit the beach.
See you later, when I have more time for bloggin’. (If I have time, I’ll tell you the story of when I joined the rebel bike gang, rode downtown in a protest ride, and ended up with my picture in the paper. Intrigued?)
In the meantime, I leave you with this photo I snapped from the car window on the way home from Marcel’s parents’ house tonight. I wish it meant we were getting rain (it’s been pretty dry), but we’re still waiting.
Have you seen the dancing guy video yet? If not, you really should. It’ll make you want to drop everything and DANCE!