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Entries from category: Thoughts
Honouring the Departed.Filed under: Life, Site, Thoughts
Today is the sixth-year anniversary of my paternal grandfather's death. Losing him was really hard as he's always been a great presence in my life, picking me up from school, taking care of me, helping me with homework, buying me most of the books I read as a child, taking me to the public sometimes two to three times a week so I could have something new to read (or reread). Now that I think about it, my grandfather might have been a second father for me. I was fourteen when he died, and I think even at that age I didn't fully grasp the concept. Now that I'm older, however, I do, and it makes me feel terrible. I can't help but think of my grandmother, lonely in her house even though there's always someone over. I can't help but think of all the things he's missed - my cousins and I graduating (from high school, from cegep, from university), my cousin and I getting our driver's licenses after several tries, my cousin's two sons being born, and just... all of us growing up and finding our places in life.
I miss him, I really do. I guess I never appreciated all the things he's done for me until he wasn't there to do them anymore. He'd always been there, so I guess I took them for granted. He did a lot, though. He's always encouraged me in what I wanted to do, and he especially encouraged my love for reading, which in turn encouraged my desire to write my own stories. I know he can see me now, though, and I hope he's proud of me. Of who I've become.
I miss you, grandpa. And I love you. So, so much. Even though I didn't tell you much when you were still alive. I might visit you soon. I know I haven't gone in over five years, but I will. 
I also lost someone else earlier this week. My high school music teacher died last Sunday. They found a tumor in his brain when I was in the seventh grade, but he went into remission after an operation and several months of treatment. Unfortunately, it came back, and despite undergoing several operations and weeks after weeks of treatment, his health kept deteriorating. He was 48, and he has two little girls, aged 6 and 8, who do not yet understand what is happening. We got the news on Wednesday, and a few of my friends and I, all former students of his, went to the funeral on Thursday night. That was kind of a hard moment - I ran into him at a restaurant in February, and he looked just fine. But then we talked to another music teacher at the funeral, and he told us how much he suffered at the end. But he never stopped fighting. He was a fighter. He was an incredible man, a good husband, friend, father, teacher. We spoke to his mother-in-law, who had nothing but good things to say about him, and she told us how teaching had been his dream since he was nine-years-old.
This man is one of the reasons why I like music so much. I'm not talking here about popular music - I'm talking about instrumental music, and movie scores, and the like. He's the reason why I still want to play the clarinet even though I stopped playing years ago, and the reason why I'm learning the guitar (or at least, trying to). He taught us how to appreciate music, how to play music, how to differentiate the various instruments in a song. He was a wonderful teacher, showing extreme patience even when the trumpets were acting up and everyone wanted to strangle them for ruining practice by throwing eraser bits around the classroom. His passion for music and teaching showed, and it was contagious. I learned a lot from him. He was one of my favorite teachers. Everyone knew he was sick, but nobody wanted to believe he would succumb to his sickness one day. I'm still having trouble processing it. The thought that he will never lead students through their end-of-year concerts, that he will never see one of the bands at school win gold in a competition... it's hard to believe.
The Jazz-Pop students dedicated him their show at the Jazz Festival, and I, in turn, dedicate this tribute to him. Thank you, Mr. Cloutier, for everything you've done for us. We will never forget it, and we will never forget you, or your impersonation of our Spanish teacher, or the way your pencil always flew across the classroom every time you tried to set the pace on your lectern. May you rest in peace.
I'm aware that the few posts I've made are somewhat depressing - I'll try to have something more cheerful to talk about next time. Also, please take note that my previous domain name, So-Patiently.net, will be expiring on July 17th and will not be renewed. Some of my fanlistings, as well as the website I co-own with my friend Frost, will be moved to Midnight-Lullaby.net within the next week and a half. Please update your links if you haven't done so yet.
... Oops?
Filed under: Life, Thoughts
Ooookay. So. I officially suck. Those blogs I promised months ago never came. I’m sorry; I could probably give you a thousand excuses for that, but the truth is that I’ve been lazy, that I haven’t had that much time on my hands, all things considered, and that writing something actually insightful? Isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. You have to be inspired, and you have to have something meaningful to say, and you have to find the words to convey your thoughts. Which has been really hard for me, because inspiration comes and goes (and when present, is usually spent on various pieces of fiction that I’ll probably never finish and that will end up on a backup disc somewhere) and while I’m known to get passionate about things… what I say is not always really meaningful and is usually the same things repeated over and over again in different words. Not to mention the fact that I have the attention span of a five-year-old on a sugar high, and that as a French speaker, it’s sometimes hard to find the right words in English.
Yeah, that’s sad. Boo hoo. Woe is me.
Anyway. Then I realized… what I say (or rather, write) doesn’t have to be that meaningful, and it doesn’t have to be a huuuuge piece, as long as it conveys my thoughts, and my emotions. Quality over quantity; if it gets the job done, then all is well. (Oh, how I dislike this expression since Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows came out – all cannot be well if- okay. Yeah. Sorry. That’s another subject that I’ll keep for another time, because this would be a lengthy, spoilery discussion as I have a lot to say on the matter.)
So yeah. I thought I’d get the ball rolling (what, four months late) with a bunch of random thoughts about random (and not so random, and even some really serious) things. I guess I should warn you beforehand that I have this tendency to try to be witty when I write, and that I often fail at it. What can I say, I’m better at writing drama and I usually suck at humor (except that time I wrote about Bridge Carson being the Buttery King, apparently, but that’s another story). Anyway, now that you’ve been warned, let’s get this show on the road.
I thought I’d start by getting the really serious matter out of the way. Not that I’m trying to downplay it, because it’s truly one of the worst horror stories I’ve ever heard in my nineteen and a half years of life, but because then I can follow up with some lighter stories to lighten the mood.
My mom went to a funeral yesterday, and when she came back, the first thing she did was give me a hug, tell me she loved me, and tell me how she was glad I didn’t come along. It was the funeral of a twelve-year-old little boy, the son of one of our coworkers, who died last Friday after battling cancer for a year. I didn’t know the boy, and I barely knew his mother, but I’m so heartbroken over this. Parents shouldn’t have to bury their children, it’s just not how life is supposed to work. A year ago, this little boy was healthy (or so he seemed to be) and full of life. This week, they put him in a coffin. That’s horrible, and heartbreaking, and unfair. This kid was twelve and he saw and lived things he shouldn’t have seen and lived. Things nobody should see and live. And he was one of the strongest little boys I’ve ever heard of, because he fought till the end. He never gave up, and if he’d had his way, he wouldn’t have died. He spent the past year telling everybody that he would make it through, even when the doctors said otherwise, even in the past month when making it through another week was a miracle. I know people say that God sends us angels, and then calls them back when we don’t need them anymore, but this, this is just cruel.
And you know what’s sad? It’s situations like this one that makes you realize just how fragile life is. You could be gone tomorrow, without having lived everything you had to live. And that’s why I say, never let anything, or anyone get in your way. We’ve only got one life to live, so let’s live it to the fullest. Sky’s the limit, guys, the only thing that keeps our dreams from coming true is ourselves, because look at all these people whose dreams did come true. Sure, some got lucky, but a lot more actually worked to get where they are now. Let’s not sit around and wait to get lucky. Let’s give it everything we have. Let’s tell the people we love that we love them, because tomorrow it might be too late. Let’s not let anything keep us down; pain makes us stronger in the end, and we learn from our mistakes. And remember: we’re all beautiful, no matter what they say. 
At least that’s how I feel. I know it’s always not easy, and as someone who is way more talk than action, I can say that I’m letting a lot of things get in the way of what I want to do, and that I always tell the people I love that I care about them, and all of that has cost me several things in life. That’s why I’m sick of letting things hold me back, and that I want to move forward. I might not always know what I want, but I know that when I figure it out, I’m going to do whatever it takes to get there.
I could go on and on about that. I guess I’d have a lot to say about how I believe that things, good and bad, happen for a reason. Because I do, and I’m convinced that being picked on in the fifth grade got me where I am right now. Crazy, huh? It’s a long series of events, however, so I’m going to spare you the story.
I haven’t always thought that positively, though. Last year, for instance, was a very dark place for me. It might not have seemed so (for those who read my previous blog), but it was. Surprisingly, the one person who brought me down (not that it really was his fault), was the only one who could bring me up. It took me several months to get over myself, but when I did, I told myself I was done with negativism and pessimism. Of course, I’m only human, and everybody gets down sometimes. But I try to see some good in everything – that takes off some off the edge in bad situations. Sometimes it’s harder to see the good side, and sometimes I come off as a bitch, or I look like I don’t care, but I’m just trying not to let things get me down too much. Truth is, I’m a really empathic and compassionate person, so I tend to get emotionally involved in situations people close to me are going through. And you know what? I find that this positivism thing works really well for me. I know life is hard, and I sometimes want to give up, but I keep going and I know things are going to work out in the end. They always do; it just takes time.
There are so many more things I could write about, but if I plough through them all in one go, I won’t have anything else to say next time, so I think I’ll stop here for now. I’d like to go back to the beginning of this post, however, and add that another thing I learned tonight is that the thing with inspiration is that while it comes and goes, sometimes you just have to sit down and let your thoughts give you. That’s what I did with this entry, and as I sit here rereading it, I think that I reached the goal I had set myself for this revamped blog: I wrote a lengthy, opinionated, and hopefully interesting piece that’s meaningful enough, without even trying.
I can’t say what my next post will be about because it will depend on my mood and inspiration, but hopefully, now that I got the ball rolling, churning out more entries will be easier and faster. I only had to break the ice, you know?
And with that, I’m off. Hope you guys enjoyed this entry. If you agree or disagree with something I wrote tonight, or even want to add something, let me know in the comments! I always like to see what others think.
Again, sorry it took me so long to get this entry out, but at least you had those pretties up there on my header to stare at while waiting for me to finally write something! 
Marie. Chounette. MC. Tinkerbell. 19. Nov 26. Quebec. Canada. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. 5' 2". Translation student at the University of Montreal, class of '10. Single. Speaks Français et English. 
Phelps Anonymous: Chounette 
since March 5th, 2008