Many Hats (or Hands)

I have to wear many hats because I don’t like the sun that gets in my eyes. Well sometimes. But rarely. There is just something about the crinkling of the corner of my eyes that makes the inevitable harder to ignore. I just wish that those who despise me could let me calmly go but here they come again lighting a fire in my soul.

They come in flocks to reap their sorrow. Negativity breeds this incestuous hate that she truly aggravates my soul. Where do you go when the streets have no name? You go back to where you came from your roots are still the same. You can’t change the fire that was lit long ago. So you have to honour your passion to go where you have always been destined to go.

Where do you start when you are so overwhelmed with emotion. Your chest failing to expand wide enough for even the slightest bit of air trying to get in. Centering your thoughts you come to a clearing and there like an enigma she stands with her hand out to guide you.

My Grandmother on my Mother’s side was my first exposure to death, well outside of the multitude of farm animals that graced our paths. When my Grandmother got sick she was very hard to be around. Her brain tumor changed everything. Her memories. Her thoughts. Even just talking to us in the day to day. Watching her get airlifted in a helicopter to go off to Vancouver was one of the hardest things. She promised to land me a pilot, I am pretty sure I was only 11.

I was terrified of what it meant to die. Would I ever see her again? Was she coming back alive? I remember lying to friends and other people about other people in my life that had died. I wanted to see what their reaction would be. I was trying to get ready in case my Grandma never came home. What I remembered most was how she didn’t have polish on her nails and that was her signature. The more glitter the better. She had always had to have polish on her nails. I think there was at least 10 in a little basket on her kitchen table. If I could do anything again in this life it would to give her the most perfect manicure. She would love all the colors and designs that we have now. I think that is what I loved about Esthetician School. The time spent on each other. The intimate bond that was created while we worked on each other meticulously to impress our teachers that was some of the most incredible time of my life. It also marked the time I began my journey into motherhood. The shared symbol being the matriarch that come comes alive in young and old.

Our hands are so important as they connect us to each other. Reaching out to see who will save us never knowing who is on the other side to greet us. Let’s talk about being organic in our approach with each other. When I first came across Color Street I was intrigued with all that was possible. I didn’t wear polish anymore because it took too much work. Every morning before my son got up I was fixing the chips from the day before. Yes I could fix them at night but no matter how long I would wait they would always mess up so when I heard of this new possibility my ears perked right up. What caught my eye first was another young gal standing in front of the Welcome to Canada sign. Now you have my attention. Something new. Something glamorous!!! Tell me everything but don’t! Not all at once. If I am going to believe in your dream don’t you even want to here about mine? All I got was what is your color choice and send me your address. Gag! Halt! Delete! Move me to the back pasture and leave me! No thank you honey pies but right now I am in the Driver’s seat if you aren’t buckling into my course than you aren’t even worth the rear view mirror.

Harsh right? Not really. Not when we are building on a dream. I guess I could have asked for a sample but I am going to tell you why I didn’t. As much as I wanted to try I didn’t want to get locked in their data base and I didn’t want them to waste their money. What I was looking for was a friendship and somebody who could make life fun. How was that going to happen on Instagram? I know right it probably wasn’t. I was prepared to wait. I knew that my education was more than enough for me to love the products and do manicures again. I stopped doing them on people because the nail polishes out there were just so inferior. Going to people’s homes and trying to convince them to slow down and take a moment out. Even after a gel application you still can’t go straight back to your day to day. I was just going to try and do it on my own but then entered my Up Lead. The right team is crucial in anything in life that we do and that includes all different types of the family dynamic. Remember if you are doing the right thing in life you will never feel like you are working. Being kind to the hand that feeds you is harder to do with sore cuticles and ragged nails believe you me. After all these years I still remember both of my Grandmother’s hard working hands and how I wish I could hold them just for one moment more. If only I knew the grace that comes when being kind and how I wish we would all do something more.

***if you would like to check out the Color Street here is the link for you right here

***if you would like a sample comment on this post and I will be in touch to send one along

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