Back when I was a teenager and I believed everything was about me, I was convinced my father scoured the earth to find the people who could torment me the most and brought them back to make my life hell.
My dad wasn’t like other fathers; his approach to parenthood was ‘unconventional’.
He made for a better friend than a father, except when he was neither and stood by and did nothing.
I think one of the greatest gifts any parent can give their child is to protect them and make them feel safe.
I never felt safe or protected with my father.
I spent twenty-one tumultuous years being my father’s daughter, and even though I haven’t spoken to him in a decade I can’t imagine being anyone else’s daughter.

Pictures of dads and kids… Enjoy!

I’m subscribed to a photo service that twice a month, emails me a selection of interesting pictures I took years ago.
It’s brilliant! My old photos are new again and the memories along with them are incredible.
Most of my pictures from two years ago are full of my bento lunches – Oh what mouth-watering nostalgia!

My mom had a mastectomy exactly a year ago today.
I probably wouldn’t have remembered it was today were it not for the pictures.
I doubt my mom remembers; the mastectomy seems like a lifetime ago to her.
A lifetime ago when our every action and thought was of the big C.
It’s still with us, you can’t really get away from cancer once it touches you; but it’s different now, like the worst part is over.

It’s inspiring seeing my mom go from breast cancer victim to breast cancer survivor.

The mastectomy changed her; it was like the green light to continue living her life.

She’s been busying herself these days with her seniors’ group.
It’s been an activity-filled past few days for her – which is why she probably doesn’t remember her surgery was a year ago today.
She’s become the de-facto treasurer of her small seniors’ group, and a week ago they contributed money to get a present for the yoga teacher, she was also supposed to get the present.

My mom discovered a counterfeit note in the monies she collected, and the West End’s Miss Marple was born!
My mom is determined to uncover the origin of the counterfeit note, and this has turned into a mini obsession.
I’m like her in that regard, I sometimes get so caught up in my little projects that they become obsessions (I’ll tell you one of these days why I haven’t blogged in over a week!).
Yesterday, she gave an informal talk to her friends on how to spot counterfeit notes.
She’s convinced seniors are easy targets (for being slipped counterfeits) and she wants to do something about it.

We’ve come quite a ways from last year, my mom is slowly coming out of the shadow of ‘breast cancer patient’
She celebrated her sixty-eighth birthday last month.
We had the fluffiest and the most delicious white chocolate mousse cake.
The lighting wasn’t great, but I took pictures anyway. I can’t wait to revisit them few years from now.

My mom accuses me of romanticizing the first few years of my life.

“I don’t know why you think you lived in some hippie fairytale… those were really hard times” she’d say

The truth is, I don’t remember much about that part of my childhood and yet, it’s a much talked about and probably the most pivotal time of our past.

In theory, it’s an idealistic story – a young large family move into the wild, determined to live off the land.

The art installation on Georgia Street reminds me of the old house from my childhood.

Our house, a similar shack, was wide and painted a cheery yellow on stilts.

It looked forlorn and out of place in the middle of the tall lush greenery.

My father built it with his ‘bare hands’ and we would live in it for years.

The art installation on Georgia Street by the Shangri-la Hotel is by artist Ken Lum.

It’s a scale model of three squatters’ shacks that used to be in the Maplewood Mudflats in North Vancouver.

Lum recreates the cabins of renowned writer Malcolm Lowry, artist Tom Burrows and Greenpeace leader Dr. Paul Spong.
Propped up on stilts over the surface of the Offsite reflecting pool, the huts strike a sharp contrast with the surrounding downtown architecture. ( Vancouver Art Gallery Offsite)

I went with my mom to see the shacks; she admits it reminds her of our little house, it’s much like it.

She stares at it wistfully for a long time, as if it’s the actual house.

“It looks so beautiful here among these tall buildings, cars, and the shiny pool…

If you took one and placed in a forest in the middle of nowhere, it wouldn’t look so beautiful” She says.

I have seven glorious days left on my mini break before I have to go back to work.

I feel like I’m trying to cram a lifetime of activities into these few days.

I spent the day out, walking, sightseeing and browsing – being a tourist and taking in the city.

Later on in the day, we made lunch, helped my mom set up her new sewing machine, drank glögg and took tons of pictures.

It made me think of wishes…

Endless days… I wish for days that would never end…

Ceaseless laughter and time with loved ones

A beautiful life, with beautiful people.

Beautiful things and beautiful moments.

I’ve been wearing corrective lenses for almost a decade now.

Generally I wear contacts, and revert to glasses during the weekend.

This year my prescription changed, ever so slightly – my eyesight has actually improved!

My ophthalmologist said I could keep on wearing my old contacts till they run out.

I was at the mall a couple of months back with my mom, she was filling her eyeglass prescription.

There was a ‘buy one get one free” promotion on glasses.

My mom got stylish contemporary half frames,

and convinced me to get these. She said it suited my face and got a bunch of other people to agree with her.

I thought they were cute in a chic old fashioned sort of way.

Here’s mom and I with our respective glasses.

Thankfully they’re transitions.

These giant plastic frames have grown on me, and I’ve gotten a compliment or two.

The guy at the coffee shop calls them hipster-chic – I don’t have the heart to tell him that my mom tricked me into getting them.