Oh, Canada.

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I am currently in the land of my people. The land I call Canada.

Just kidding, I'm only half Canadian. But I am indeed in Canada, the lovely province of Ontario to be more specific. Fun fact: there are a lot of maple things here - cookies, candies, etc. My personal favorite is the maple-flavored syrup that I choose to put in my lattes. 

My mom and I are in Canada because my grandma's health took a hit; she was moved to hospice and died just a few days after. We immediately packed up our suitcases and booked it to see her and my other relatives. I didn't think we were going to spend more than a week here for some reason, so I only brought a couple of outfits - whatever fit in a small suitcase. (Oh, and I mean a couple of outfits. I have been wearing, washing, and wearing things again and again. To those of you who see me in the same gray and black shirts, I'm sorry. But I promise that they're clean). 

We traveled through the night, and went directly to where grandma was staying. At this point, it was 4am and we both were incredibly tired, but we pushed through it. We got in the building, reached the floor she was on, and were "greeted" by a resident. My mom and I stopped at the community room where one man was quietly sitting in one of the chairs, silent and content. No, this was not the resident that greeted us... There was a woman walking slowly to the end of the hallway and back, saying, "Oh please help me!" My mom didn't seem worried, whereas I was about ready to run through the halls, calling for a nurse. It was when I was about to suggest my plan to my mom, that I realized what was happening: this lady was trying to escape.

I've heard stories of the elderly escaping their nursing homes, only to get lost in the streets somewhere, unable to find their way back. However, I've never been the "almost-accomplice" to one of these escapes before. I don't know if that woman completely forgot where she was, or literally just wanted to escape, but I desperately tried (and failed) to not make eye contact with her. Thankfully, my grandma's hallway was nearby, so we could just hastened on over there. 

After she passed away, I was placed with a job in preparation of the funeral; it was to scan photos of my grandma onto my computer, and then transfer those photos on to a flash drive. I thought this would be the easiest task in the world, and I was the one that was graced with this task. Nope. Here is how it actually went:

  • It took a good 30 minutes to figure out how to set up the scanner to my computer, which is a Mac, and then it took another 20 minutes to figure out how to actually scan the pictures. I like to think of myself as tech savvy, but I stand corrected. Give me a word document or powerpoint, and I got you. (Actually, I once totally messed up a presentation/big speech during my freshman year of college because I couldn't get my powerpoint to work. It was a speech about music, and obviously the music wouldn't play once I started speaking, because that would just be too much good luck for one person.)

There were some pictures that really stood out to me while I was scanning them and watching Arrested Development simultaneously: 

Another memory I have of my grandma's nursing home, is when my mom, sister and I were walking past the community room where a lot of residential men and women were scattered about - most were in chairs, sitting quietly, and others were slowly but surely walking around, enjoying the scenery. The ones sitting by themselves were either watching TV or just staring blankly ahead. I was taking this all in while we were en route to my grandma's room, but were stopped when a middle-aged woman said abruptly, "I just peed my pants!" She had no expression on her face when she hunched over and quickly walked out of the room, but didn't leave without sharing that news with those around her. Despite the bladder issue, she seemed like a lovely, honest woman.

This, my friends, is Lake Ontario. Many mornings, my mom and I would grab maple lattes (how original, I know) and walk around the Lake, reminiscing about old memories in Canada. 

This, my friends, is Lake Ontario. Many mornings, my mom and I would grab maple lattes (how original, I know) and walk around the Lake, reminiscing about old memories in Canada. 

And here's a blurry picture of my mom while we walked along the semi in focus Canadian ground.

And here's a blurry picture of my mom while we walked along the semi in focus Canadian ground.

I really love being in Canada. At the time that I first started writing this post, I was actually in Canada, but now I'm back home. I have some really really great memories of that place, ones that my mom and I got to talk about during our walks. Some moments stood out to me more than others, and same for her. When discussing an event or time in your life that you and another person were apart of, it's interesting to see which details made an impact on them, and which ones they forgot entirely until you brought them up again. Sadly, I don't have any memories where my grandma didn't have Alzheimers and technically wasn't her usual self, but I do remember her playing her organ and singing - music was a big part of her life. She was a wonderful organist and pianist, and knew many hymns by heart. Back when she could still walk, my mom, sisters and I took her to a piano in the nursing home. She sat down, played her songs, and sang along to it - all by memory. This was while she had Alzheimers, which messed with her memory, but apparently didn't mess with her memories of hymns and other songs.  

Grandma, you are missed. But I'm glad that you're in Heaven now, where your memory is completely restored. 

Reagan Fleming

Poem

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This is a poem that I written for one of my writing classes. I wrote this about a Christmas party that my friends & I had. We danced, ate candy, & played charades. At one point, when we danced to the song Come On Eileen (featured in Perks of Being a Wallflower), I looked over to my friend who was dancing across from me & she had the biggest smile on her face. I realized that I was smiling too; I had been dancing how I wanted to, not caring if I was good or not (I'm not, just to clarify). I then thought to myself: "This is going to be one of those nights that I look back on, & remember as one of the best nights of my life." I had never felt so free. The thing is - what I'm realizing as I type this - there was a reason why I felt so free; I was around people I loved, dancing to music I enjoyed, & I finally allowed myself to dance the way I wanted to. Usually when I hit the peak of my embarrassment, I stop dancing. But instead, I pushed aside the self-conscious thoughts, & I just had fun.

So, that is my little background story as to why I titled this poem what is. 

Completely Uninhibited

Before it began, 

we set up the room 

with some balloons 

and streamers draping; 

all for a celebration 

of the birth 

of someone worth 

celebrating.

We danced like the friends 

in that wallflower

movie. 

Because when we danced, 

we danced without a care, 

even though dancing is so

unlike me. 

Minutes in, a voice said

I’m making myself a fool.

Yes, I have two left

feet, but I chose not to

listen. So we danced 

together and out of sync 

to our favorite music.

We’re bad dancers with

good jokes,

rhythmless comedians.

But in the end, although 

imperfect,

that night,

it was memorable. 

It was perfect. 

It was when I felt

completely uninhibited. 

The Hopeful & The Hopeless: My Interpretation of The Walking Dead

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I'm not going to lie: I really like The Walking Dead. 

Last year, during a week off from school due to ice and snow storms, my mom and I made homemade soy lattes and enjoyed The Walking Dead, season 1. For years, my friends and well, Society has told me that this show is worth the watch. I had never been into zombies before, whether it be in the form of a book or on the big screen. (There is one exception to this statement: I have a love of the movie Warm Bodies, but it is basically a glorified Romeo and Juliet). I go on and on about how amazing 30 Rock is, and how it's a show that makes me laugh in such a way that I would designate it as a "howl." Yes, this is true and will forever be true (Tina Fey, you little genius), but for those days when I need a break from slapstick comedy, I can watch TWD. The show does an amazing job explaining each character's story and what they were like before everything went down. Somehow, by the time the credits roll - and this happens after almost every episode - I am left open-mouthed and dumbstruck.

At first, it took me awhile to get used to the raspy growls of the zombies and the constant violence, but the suspenseful plot twists and great acting were what kept me watching every week. Now I have almost 6 seasons under my belt.

My Interpretation:

In the show, there are two types of people: the "walkers," as the zombies are most often called, and the humans. If a walker bites a human and the human dies, the human eventually turns into a zombie. But, spoiler alert: the main character, Rick, is told that the entire population is already infected with a disease of some sort that will turn them into zombies after they die. So, getting bit by a walker just speeds up the process of turning into a zombie.

After watching the first couple of episodes, I began to notice something beyond the constant battle between zombies and humans: two subtypes of humans. Those two subtypes that the humans fall under are the hopeful and the hopeless. It's not something that is stamped on their foreheads, but as a viewer, you are able to decipher who spends most of their time living in which category. Whether it's mentioned in the dialogue or not, each character in the story either acts out of their hopelessness or their hopefulness in the time of crisis (usually when a zombie pops out from behind a tree, ready to eat them). 

Some of the men and women that appeared at first to be the strongest and most dependable leaders in their groups, fell prey to hopelessness of their current situation. Well, who would blame them? Their entire world had crumbled, some family members were lost or dead by the hand of zombies, and everything seemed to be crashing down all at once. However, their poor attitudes didn't just inhibit their happiness; oftentimes, it hindered their ability to fend for themselves and others. On the other hand, some men and women that didn't appear to be the strongest in their groups turned out to be the most helpful ones out of the bunch. They understood that living among zombies was their new normal, and they made the decision to make the most of it and act accordingly. 

When I watched those first couple of seasons where I saw the topic of "hope" more prominently, I also realized that the categories of the hopeful and the hopeless appear in our lives now. Everyday, there are people who have some pretty crappy circumstances or things that they have faced in the past. However, it's how they handle those situations that makes all the difference. If you're constantly re-thinking things that happened in the past, bringing up old emotions that should have already been dealt with, or are going through a tough time, positivity is key. Hope is key. In TWD, it was those who stayed positive that stayed alive, and lived a more fulfilling life. When people (nowadays as well as TWD crew) are constantly focusing on the sad/troubling/awful parts of their life or the things that they are dealing with currently, it influences their own emotional and/or physical health. It can also hurt those around them.

Despite all the crap I've been through, the things that I'm still dealing with, and the problems that I have yet to face, I know that God is the source of my hope. I have been known to live in the "hopeless" category for extremely long periods of time, but I now realize how powerful hope can be within dire times of my life. I utterly grateful for the hope that God provides. Without it, I don't know where I would be right now. I also have to keep reminding myself that God knows what He's doing, and knows what my life will look like in 10, 20, 30 years. I don't.

Okay, okay. I understand that not everyone had this "revelation" while watching TWD, but I did. It caused me to look back on my life, and see how being hopeful has changed my life for the better.

The girl that wishes Daryl and Rick will stay alive forever and ever,

Reagan Fleming