I knew the answer to a question they had to a call-in contest on the radio: What is the official flower of Ontario? – the trillium.(seen here). I will never forget it and will always remember it as it is connected to one of my first acts, if not, the first act, of rebellion against authority. I remember how during a nature walk in the woods once at camp the counsellor explained to us all the various different trees and plants and pointed out trilliums saying how they’re the official provincial flower and so on and how the gov’t made a law that it’s illegal to pick them……so, of course, me, being the little rebel that I am, and always was, guess what I did? When everyone’s backs were turned and no one was looking I discreetly bent down and plucked one up, smirking with satisfaction to myself, thrilled and empowered with my bold, courageous, rebellious act of sedition! This was my first(of many) show of defiance against the gov’t telling us what to do, making Fascist and often stupid laws, curtailing our freedoms, imposing upon our lives, and so I begun my life-long journey of civil disobedience( ha ha) just like that, with the plucking of a trillium flower; my first thumbing my nose at Big Brother,showing a sign of defiance and silent protest, beginning a long tradition of sticking it to The Man. 😀
I’ve always been a rebel.
The 15 YR old also has a birthday today and I hope and pray with all my heart that she has a good day esp. since, like me, ever since she broke, life has changed for her and she is a different person than she once was it’s hard now for her to be happy and the slightest thing sets her off. Losing the closeness and the loving relationship I once had with her(not my choice) is one of my biggest losses and regrets in life as well and when I really think about it, most of my regrets in life are all based on love, and loss of love, be it unrequitted love( I love people that never loved me back) or lost friendships( and the regret that they could never be mended again, even when I tried) or broken relationships( such as with my mother once I had kids, or with my kids once they got older and I got more traumatized and damaged over the years and they started hating me) everything is always about love and love is the main, and most important thing in life, and the loss of love is the most painful and most regretful thing.
We also figured that Patti must have tightened her Facebook privacy settings so that only her friends can see what she posts now since we’re not seeing any more new posts but there’s always still a way around it; there’s always another way, and I’m so slow now that even Buddy, who’s an old dog at 12, walks faster than I do. That really makes me feel old, as does realizing that many of my school friends are now grandparents and that many of my own kids’ friends they had as teens as now all grown up and are married and have kids of their own, and now instead of reading the birth notices in the paper to see if there’s anyone I know I find myself reading the death notices!
Funny,too: the 11 YR old made up a new word: he mixed up kilometres( which we use) with miles( that his school books use as it’s American) and he said kilomiles and as I was lazing in the sun with Buddy it brought back a happy childhood memory of a simpler time,too; of childhood summers of me at either the cottage or visiting relatives in the country, the adults all sitting out on the veranda talking and me laying on my stomach on the porch swing on the wooden country porch, still barefoot and in my bathingsuit, with one leg and one arm dangling down, still sweaty, sunburned, wet, and sandy from a day at the creek, gently rocking back and forth as the breeze blows past and the sun sets, enjoying the sights and sounds of wildflowers, fresh cut grass and the chirping of birds and cicadas in the lazy summer heat, just blissfully drifting away, no cares in the world, a perfect day, the perfect feeling, just the joy of life, the joy of living, the joy of life,and the love of living. I really miss that. I miss that feeling, that serenity, that joy.When life was good and worth living. When I used to be happy.