St. Patrick's Day, an experience!

I went out with my mother, my baby niece and two youngest daughters today. After a trip to Rigaud to pick up a bike carrier, we ended up visiting an old friend of my mother's from her McGill days. He lives in Hudson, Quebec. He is a jolly kind of guy. Smart as a whip and the perpetual bachelor with the house to match. I am sure if he was reading this, he would have a chuckle. As it turns out, the Hudson St. Patrick's Day parade was starting just outside his door.

It started with the parade marshall, then the requisite men in kilts piping and drumming. With a rousing cheer, the parade began. We all stood outside and watched the floats go by. To watch a parade is something as an adult. Most would find it boring, but the key is watching it through a child's eyes...even if they aren't your own. A friend of this man showed up and stood with us and commented on this fact. She and my four year old talked about the events as they unfolded before them - the funny costumes, which dog was the best, the Shriner's cars and the like. She also had this funny insight - if it weren't for the dollar store, there would be no St. Patrick's Day parade for Hudson! All the floats had the same shiny shamrocks stuck to everything. One man was even handing out the flag of Ireland. I think the best part of it all was watching three generations of my family enjoying a wonderful sunny day!

Throughout I got text messages from sisters asking where we were. When I texted: In Hudson at the St Pat's parade, I got back an instant "Oh!" and "LOL!". I guess for them and myself, it was unexpected. Ah well, it seems that sometimes the most unexpected things turn out to be the best experiences. So, with that note, I forgot to write that at the end of it all, we got invited to a St. Patrick's Day party in the oldest coolest house in Hudson. The couple who own it are generous. They converted the old building which used to be a depanneur (excuse the spelling) into a beautiful house. We enjoyed great food and even better company while my niece crawled around and my daughter colored her velvet cat picture she got at the parade. I have to say, the generosity of strangers surprises me sometimes. I guess its time for me to pay if forward, but for now I'm tired. Night.

At a birthing....

I was at the birth of my daughter's nephew the other night. Unexpectedly I was asked to stay and help. It became one of the best experiences of my life. As a woman and a mother, I felt comfortable and in my element. Helping our young women through birthing is something my ancestors did. Yes, albeit it was in a hospital, with all kinds of electronic monitors, etc. but it was still the same event when you get right to the bottom of it. The process is the same - contractions, increasing intensity, dealing with pain, the pushing and ultimately the excitement and joy when the little one arrives. I know our ancestors experienced exactly the same thing. So, through this experience I have the ability to time travel. I get to stand in the moccasins of my female ancestors. Cool.

I woke up the next morning totally exhausted. I felt like a truck had run me over. I asked myself why? I have come to realize that when at a birthing you are completely in tune to the woman who is birthing. You are there for her. They need your energy and strength, especially when it is their first baby. The whole experience for a first time mother is a new one. I always tell young women, I could never explain to you what it is like to go through a birth. I could never explain the pain. You just have to through it. As a result, a woman having a baby for the first time does not really know what to expect and it can be scary! This was the case for the young woman the other night. The intensity of the pain was somewhat unexpected and the women there - myself, her aunties, and the nurses had to reassure her and coach her through it all. As a result, I gave her most of my energy. I also massaged her back for hours to help her with the pain, which also gave her a lot of my strength. I came away from the whole experience exhilarated and exhausted! I felt like I had a hang-over the next day! My arms were sore and I was tired. But, I have recovered. I went to see him last night. He is doing well.

Now, I can talk to this boy when he is a young man and tell him, I was there when you were born. I have a special connection to him as someone who was there to welcome him into the world. It certainly makes me feel like I am doing my duty as a mom and woman. I helped a young woman bring her son into the world. How special is that? In my books, very special.