Anne-Marie Merle (amm)

A friend’s mother sent me a beautiful email about The Sisterhood of Travelling Butterflies. She knew amm on many levels: as a fellow parent, a dance mom, a colleague and a Beta Sister. And she felt that the email was so much about amm.

And I needed to share my favourite butterfly from the email.

Hugs to you! It was wonderful to hear from you.

Ina May is a strong woman. I wish amm could have read her book – the book that was a major part of Arrine’s birthing story – so we could have poured a glass of wine and talked about Ina May and shared our thoughts on her and midwifery.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vpI6xcylLVU&feature=player_embedded

I had the chance to visit with one of amm’s old, dear friends. And she shared a few amm memories and they made me cry… My two favourite were:

1. “You know the last words your mother said to me? ‘My children. My precious children.’ “

2. “Your mother looked so beautiful until the end.”

I have a wall of photos in our hallway. And Arrine likes to look at the pictures and name the people she knows. And if she doesn’t know their name then she simply asks, “Name? Name?”

But there is one picture that she just doesn’t understand. “Mommy!” she will point and exclaim. And I will say, “No. That’s Grandma Anne-Marie.” And then Arrine says, “Mommy!” And then I will say, “No. That’s Grandma Anne-Marie when she was younger.” And this goes on until we are done looking at pictures.

Last night I had some ladies over for a little get together. The premise for the evening was to learn a few dance moves, have a few drinks and most definitely have more than a few laughs. Well, a friend brought a friend who brought a friend. And this extended friend had an inner and outer beauty to her. She spoke calmly and with purpose. And the words she said had weight to them. And she could know you. Does that make sense? She had the ability to look into your soul and read it.

This extended friend made a comment about how she would like to take my classes, so I explained to her that I normally don’t teach dance classes. I am currently just a student at a studio. So her next question was, “Why are you not teaching?” She praised me for my teaching ability and seeing the passion I have for it and how I have a natural ability to teach and how well my students (aka tipsy girlfriends) improve with my guidance. And how I can see how different ladies need different ways to learn and I pick up on it and adapt my teaching style. She got all this from an hour with me in my living room.

We would have chats like this throughout the night. And she kept saying that there was more for me in life. She could see it coming. And we talked about women empowerment and taking ownership of ourselves and doing things for ourselves, instead of the idea of doing things for men. Well, I would make comments and she would agree. And I thought of amm and how much she would have enjoyed being a part of our conversations.

She would just look at me from across the room, and I could feel her trying to decipher what she was reading – like something was a bit ‘off’ with me. I think she could see something that I do know about myself, but just haven’t done anything about. Only one other person in my life recently has made me consider this path. I think what made last night have such an impact on me, is that a complete stranger saw this in me. Is it that obvious?

Irene Lefrancq

Love to you, Irene!

I have been patiently waiting to see the sign of Arrine loving me. Really loving me. As in she herself is recognizing loving me. I tell her over and over again that I love her, but she has yet to say it back to me. I know she will one day. And I know that she loves me as her mom and shows her excitement to see me and comes to me when she is hurt. But I have never felt that real love from her, or her recognition of it. Does that make sense?

Until last night.

My poor girl still had a fever and we were going through her bedtime routine. I had her wrapped up in her pink kitty towel after her bath and she was laying on her bedroom floor as I dried her off. She was fussing so I started to sing to her. Each time I started singing a song she would say, “No.” And I would try another one. She finally accepted the lullaby that amm and Charles used to sing to me, Over In Killarney. This was the first song I ever sang to her and I remember singing it to her when we were still in the hospital. Each time I sing it to her I think of amm and how she sang to me.

So as I sang, I took out one leg of hers and slowly massage her with lotion, then tucked her leg back in, taking out her other leg. I did this with her arms and then rubbed her belly with lotion under her towel. Like how it’s done when you get a professional massage. And during this process, singing to her and keeping her snuggled up while massaging her, she looked into my eyes. And my heart stopped, then fluttered. I felt we connected as we never have before. It was a look of love in her eyes. Her understanding that I will always do everything for her. She is my priority. She loves me. And I wondered at that moment, if amm and I had shared the same exchange when I was just tiny too.

We finished our bedtime routine as every other night – sleeper, books and being laid down in her bed. But this time, I knew that she knew she loved me.

(Or the look was just her being completely dopey from the fever and I completely misinterpreted it.)

I am protective of my amm pj blanket – the quilt that amm’s dear friend made for me out of amm’s pajamas. The blanket has a permanent spot on my bed. It is never is lent out. It’s mine.

But today Arrine is in need of the love within my quilt. The poor girl has had a fever since Sunday. The doctor today didn’t have any answers and we are to take her back on Thursday if her fever doesn’t break by then.

My poor sicky is now wrapped in Grandma Anne-Marie’s love. It’s a special circumstance – I can share my blanket this time.

For this particular post, you all need to get past the fact that I watch Keeping Up With the Kardashians and Kim & Kourtney Take New York. I like to think that these shows are evened out with intellectual shows that I also watch, like Law & Order and SNL, right? And the odd DocZone.

I consider reality TV as ‘background’ shows. TV to put on in the background while I do other things, like ironing or going through emails or doing my nails, because you really don’t need to be concentrating on the content. Not that I am defending myself, simply explaining the reasoning behind it.

Ok, but what does this have to do with amm? The other day I was enjoying a Kardashian marathon and there were two episodes that brought me to tears. Yes, tears. The first episode followed the girls during the time leading to the anniversary of their father’s death. And it made me cry – they had home movies of him to watch and I was jealous. And then a more current episode followed Kim as she decided to meet with John Edward the medium, to connect with her dad. And I thought of how I too have considered doing the same. And so I cried again.

I wish I had home videos of amm when she was well. All I have are videos I took when we were in the hospital, and it takes a certain emotional state to watch those. One that I hardly ever have.