Tomorrow I take this year's students to the Woodlands Memorial Garden. It's a bit of an ordeal - carpooling, scheduling, signing liability waivers. But for me, it's one of the most important parts of their education. And mine.

The garden commemorates the hundreds of people who died at Woodlands and the thousands who lived there and are still living among us. Residents were buried on the grounds, each marked by a small concrete brick, engraved with their initial and last name and the year they died. That's it. In the 1970's, someone decided the stones no longer were needed and they were discarded. Some were used to build bbq pits and patios for the staff and homes off the property. Others were thrown into the ravine. As the institution closed, this came to light, and a handful of great people made it their business to collect the stones and create the Woodlands Memorial garden.

I love that place. Peaceful, lush, and beautiful. Those bricks now stand tall, reminding us of what happens when a certain segment of society is tossed aside, abused, marginalized, even "tolerated."

Left unchecked, these responses to differences leads to is a deadly forgetfulness that descends in our psyches. In Woodlands case, society's forgetting led to horrific acts of neglect and abuse, the severing of ties with family who were told by professionals to forget. One of the highlights of my life has been to participate in the creation of homes for several Woodlands residents, to witness firsthand not just the changes, but the miracles that connections can bring. But that is for another blog.

There is no "us" and "them." We cannot afford this as a society. Such thinking leads to the breakdown of families, relationships, whole societies. In some cases it has led to physical acts of abuse, torture, even death.

The garden silently and beautifully bears witness to this truth. Walking the Woodlands garden path is an act of worship, a sacrament of sorts for me. Those souls inspire me to stand tall in the midst of my own differences. They inspire me to model self-acceptance and the acceptance of others. My hope is that the students tomorrow recognize not just how important the work is that they will be doing as Special Education Assistants, but the critical bigger picture of full inclusion, full rights, full participation of all in society.

Thanksgiving Quarantine

This year we're ill for thanksgiving. Calvin and Nolan are fighting fevers, sore throats and sore tummies. Dawn and I are fighting some non-descript version of what the boys have. Sadly, we had to cancel thanksgiving dinner for today with our joy-friends (am stealing that from something I read the other day, used in place of boyfriends for obvious reasons), Curt and David and other dear guests, Brian and Greg. Last night we ordered Chinese for Rick and the boys and us. That may well have been our turkey dinner this year.



So you'd think I'd be bummed out, but I'm not. Today I am so acutely aware of all that I have to be thankful for. I know there will be other family turkey dinners, but the flavour of this gratefulness today won't return - I need to get it out. Guess I'm a blogger now. :)



Twenty years ago, steeped in depression and confusion, I had no vision that I could be this fulfilled, this at peace with myself and my spirituality, this loved. I only knew that I had to get through the next minute, the next hour, the next segment of time, battling the debilitating voices of guilt and isolation. Today my heart is full of the future I have with my family and a career that is my vocation, my calling. Today I make a list of all that Sylvia Ruth Woodyard is thankful for, at age 45. It is:

1. My mother, who has loved me tenaciously. My Mom, whom I adore. I cannot tell you how I admire Elly's grace, her graciousness, her courage to love me in the way she knew was right despite the voices around her that told her she was wrong. She is sweet, funny, wise, sensitive and, it must be said, so very cute. She is my mother, and one of my best friends. What a privilege to say this.




2. My Dad. It's no secret we clashed constantly and caused each other so much grief. But he saw and believed in my abilities in ways that helped me survive. Without his career and intellectual encouragement, I don't think I would have pursued the education and the jobs that I have had, which have kept me grounded in insane moments of my life. Thank you, Daddy.




3. My wife, Dawn Michelle. She is my inspiration to dig deeper, to laugh more, to not take myself so seriously, to see issues more rationally. We have walked through so much together. I am so grateful to be living in the present and building our future together. I am thankful that we never tire of each other, that our values match, that we encourage each other's individuality. We are each other's biggest fans. We have vision for a life that is lifegiving to each other, our boys and others. Words on a screen can't describe the depth of appreciation I have of her and joy she brings me. I love her.




4. Calvin and Nolan. The struggle to figure out my role in their lives as step-mom and what that means has been so worth it. Watching them grow up the last 10 years is one of the greatest joys of my life. I don't just love them, I like them. A lot.




5. Family of choice. I am thankful that I have grasped the concept that sometimes experiences and unconditional love are thicker than blood.




6. My nieces and nephews. Catherine, Jon, Mark, Jeff, Joanna, Julia, David, Curtis, Natalie, Michaela, Andrew, Toran. You guys are never far from my thoughts. Each of you have enriched my life in your own ways. While I still grieve the distance that was created between me and some of you, I love you so much and am thankful for the ways we have stayed in contact (yay Facebook). I only hope this grows and hope you know our door is always open to you. Toran, you are so special and funny and bright. You're going to be an awesome big brother.




7. My career. I get to go to work every day, interact with brilliant, fun colleagues and thoughtful, unique, bright earnest students. Every day, I learn something new from the experience.




8. Those people whom I don't see very much anymore, or at all, due to distance, life and other reasons. I am so grateful for seeing a bright future for me when I couldn't. For walking with me when it was so difficult. For expressing God's love when I was so weighted by pain that my own ability to independently sense it felt irretrievable. I will be eternally grateful for you and can only hope for the day when I get to offer you something in return.
   



9. My animals. Roxy and Henry and Nicholas have made me laugh and *care*. They have built bridges for me. They have contributed to cultivating in our boys empathy and joy.




10. Some lessons learned along the way:

• The aging process is like scaffolding; I take what I have experienced and learned and create more of my structure.




• Darkness doesn't last forever. Grief always gives ways to moments of joy.




• God is okay with not being defined by humankind's limited definitions, even Biblical.




• The Bible is to be respected as a commentary of its time, as offerings of ideals within the context of many considerations. It has been disrespected and used to instill fear and to enforce power structures and to marginalize for too long. I am thankful for its inspiration, and thankful for putting its messages in perspective, as well.




• My identity is not contingent on a label. Wife ... instructor .... lesbian .... daughter ... sister ... aunt ... stepmother ... Christian .... ex-gay .... ex-ex-gay ... masters student ... the 'other woman' ... depressed ... fibromyalgic - each of these, positive or negative, are but one aspect or element of my experience. I am thankful I have analysed and understand each as best I can, letting go of that which is enslaving and cultivating that which is lifegiving, loving and healthy. Thanks be to God.




• Even the darkest moments have humour.




• I can say 'no' at my discretion.




• Life is full of surprises in the most unexpected places. (I LOVE that about life!)




• We don't have to agree on everything to be in relationship.




• I need to get outdoors every day.




• I need to write.




• There is so much left to learn. The addage "The more I learn the more I realize I don't know" is so true for me. I love that about life, too.

I could go on. And I will. I am thrilled to finally begin this. And I'm thankful to start it on thanksgiving. I will spend this day turkey-less, but deeply, deeply grateful.