Depression Getaway with Wendy Love

  Here I am at the Peterborough farmers' market just before I met my husband, Cliff. I loved painting for a living and I was pretty good at it but sales were not great. I painted plaques, furniture, signs, mailboxes, baskets, lampshades, t-shirts, straw hats, family trees, milk cans and a whole bunch of other fun things. Frankly business wasn't that great and I didn't make much of a profit. I knew it wasn't the quality of my work, but I had no idea how to make things better.  Enter Cliff! Somehow he knew how to arrange my little booth to create more interest and thus more business. He would walk around the craft shows and notice what sorts of booths were really busy and what people were buying. Plus he was a natural salesman. Business doubled!

Have you ever wondered why God chose to visit this earth in the form a little baby? I have until about a year ago I was enlightened about the power of one little baby.

Best Christmas ever? I know what one of mine was. Like to hear about it? My 'best Christmas ever' has to do with one person, not with gifts or parties or decorations or Christmas movies. And that person is my sister! This picture of me and my sister was taken in 1967. We could laugh at nothing at all, or at everything. We find the same things funny. She is a little older than me so she has been in my life from the very beginning.

'Family Christmas' - does that phrase bring good or bad memories to mind? "Family Christmas" brings all sorts of warm childhood memories to my mind. I remember food, fun, family, laughter and most of all love. At least that is how I remember my childhood Christmases. Who knows, maybe my parents had stresses with our family christmas that I was not aware of? Let me share a typical childhood Christmas for me.

Writing about my kitchen window views these last couple of weeks makes me remember all of my kitchen views over the years, twelve altogether. Some have been nicer than others but they all eventually became a familiar source of comfort to me.  I no longer have a house in the country, so my view is quite different now, but I love it. I live in a small town and my kitchen overlooks the firestation, a few houses and the busiest road in town, which everyone takes to the arena and the community centre. I overlook our little parking lot too so I can see my neighbours coming and going. It is not exceptionally pretty but I love it just the same.

This morning there was a man at my kitchen window! And that was a surprise since my apartment is on the second floor. Well, not a complete surprise since recently the windws have all been replaced and the sills were not in yet, so I was sort of expecting him and yet still it was a kind of fun surprise . Reminds me of the time my husband had his first colonoscopy. I was concerned for him as I left him at the hospital and went for a walk and a snack. At the appointed time I went to pick him up and he was still in a bed in the waiting area. He had not yet had the procedure!

Years ago when I was a young wife and mother living on a farm, I used to enjoy a magazine called  'Country Woman' . It was a typical woman's magazine but featuring the country life and the women like me who lived in a rural area.   "The View from my Kitchen Window" was one of my favorite monthly features. Each one was a brief description of the view from the window of some woman's farmhouse and a picture was included.

"I am a successful business woman", did you know that about me? Let me tell you about it. For most of my adult working years I was a self-employed artist. I specialized in hand-painted signs, mailboxes, furniture, milk cans and all sorts of other neat things.  I also taught decorative painting, popularly known back then as 'folk art'. I certainly did not make much money but I enjoyed it. I could work from home, which was important to me and I could even take my kids along to craft shows. In many ways it was a family business.

Successful step parenting - easier said than done! When I married for the second time, I had already raised two daughters who were off to university. My new husband had three teenagers who lived with us half the time. I was motivated and determined and hopeful to have a positive relationship with them. Just let me set the record straight. My stepchildren, now 36, 34 and 32, are three of the nicest people I know. 

I used to envy people with faith. I remember thinking 'it must be nice to have the peace that comes with believing that there is a God who cares." I wanted to believe, but for some reason, I couldn't. My sister became a Christian before I did. I trusted my sister and she started lending me some interesting books about faith in Jesus Christ. Then I started reading my bible and even going to church. As I opened my heart to Jesus, He walked into it and has been living there ever since.

My Christmas surprise - spoiled by me!  One of the magical parts of Christmas for many of us is SURPRISE . Little did I know when I was a child how much work went into setting up these surprises. I was 15 and my sister was 18. By now I had long gotten over one of the first big letdowns of Christmas - there was no Santa. I still enjoyed the magic of the surprise presents under the tree.

Juggling Christmas with depression - not easy, but not impossible. I remember the first Christmas I gave myself permission to 'scale back' . I was so sick with depression I wanted to cancel it altogether but our five kids were still all in their twenties and even though there were no grandchildren yet, I wasn't prepared to give up on hosting Christmas.  So far our house was the gathering place and I was so thankful that these five wonderful kids were still willing to spend time with the family, especially since we are a 'blended' family.  Besides, sick or not, being together with all of our kids is one of my best depression getaways. Selfishly, I did not want to deprive myself of that. Truthfully, I hoped this Christmas was just a little bump in the road and next Christmas I would be 'my old self' . 

Look at that happy family! They appear delighted to see each other. The wreath on the door suggests they are ready for Christmas and for company. I just bet that behind that door there is Christmas music playing, a fireplace crackling, the smell of home cooking and a beautifully decorated tree packed with presents underneath. That was not unlike the family I grew up in. Yes, some people really do have families like that. My many years of living, however, have shown me that this kind of family is the exception, not the rule. Let me tell you about the first Christmas when my 'happy family' bubble burst. It equals the disappointment of finding out there is no Santa.

Last time I was telling you about my nice yellow sunny apartment and how it cheers me up. The yellow I am referring to is a soft butter yellow. This time I would like to tell you about a time when yellow wasn't the smartest choice I ever made. It was the early 70's. I was a new teacher and thought I knew something, I guess I was a little cocky. One June, the teachers were told that the school was getting some fresh paint and although most of it would be white paint, each teacher could pick a colour for one wall in his or her classroom. I picked a really bright yellow!

Last time I told you about my new bath mat. It reminded me of another bath many years ago, 1998. That's when I married my second husband Cliff and moved into his home with his three children, 14, 16 and 18. I know, crazy right?   Yes I was crazy, crazy in love with this dear man. So since the two of us had both come from failed marriages I was afraid that maybe we needed some help this time. Even though there were no serious issues (yet), Cliff humoured me and off to marriage counselling we went.

Positive thinking can seem impossible when you are depressed. Positive thinking and Depression, oh that it would work! But maybe it can? Now I know that one positive thought cannot turn around this serious mental illness. And certainly grasping onto a positive quote may not miraculously turn around a depressive episode.

There is HOPE FOR DEPRESSION! Let me say it again: 'THERE IS HOPE FOR DEPRESSION'! It has been a bit of fun gleaning some new lessons for depression from various personality traits of my six grandchildren . You probably assume, since I seem so familiar with their unique characteristics, that I spend a lot of time with them. But that is not the case. The word 'grandmother' probably conjures up all sorts of cozy scenes of homemade cookies, sleepovers and babysitting. But that is not the case with this Grandma.

Here they are!  #5 and #6 are twin grandbabies! And boy can they communicate. They are eleven months old. I will call them 'Pounder' and 'Shrieker' . An example of their skills is shown here. They are in position. Mommy is giving them cheerios which they love. And when they are done and want more, one of them simply pounds on his tray until more appear, the other one shrieks at the top of her lungs. And guess what? It works!

Depression is an emotional illness but sometimes we're too numb or weak to even engage in emotion. Grandchild #4 is two years old in this picture. She is still able to find a lot of joy in every little thing. She emotes easily, especially happy emotions. I will call her 'Emoticon'. In this picture she didn't even understand the victory that was being won on the TV but everyone else in the room was happy and so she was happy too!

Depression is difficult. Depression recovery is challenging. But we could soften the pain and increase changes of recovery with a little snuggling.