- All Five ...

- I wrote this as a Creative Piece for an assignment at Grade, December 12/08 ...

it takes a little thought, but most should figure it out, don't be afraid to comment, ask, I'll be all to glad to explain !

You Know Who You Are, All Five



There was this moment, perfect and eternal.


It was happiness and passion.


There was a yearning for some sense of my purpose there.


I saw her, and was immediately awestruck, without expression, and at loss for words.


I felt full, and complete, and terrified at once; to consider the future here was folly, a fools venture.


To look into your eyes was to see wonder, fear, and awe; was love there yet?


I remembered a loss, and another I'd not held in years, and vowed to be better.


Each second was infinite.


I believed in perpetual potential there and then; you alone gave me hope.


On days like today I wonder where I've failed you, how far removed from that moment are we?


Have I let you down? Had my father taken more time with me, would I be more forgiving?


I hope that my scars are lessons learned, dues paid on your behalf.


God willing, I leave this as a road map for you.

- it's definitely, deeply personal. I hope you like it, I'd be glad to respond to any questions ...

-Glasses Start Friday, Prayers Appreciated !

Love, S.

- Thank God, I'm A Dad ...

- Wow, it's late! It occurred to me that I didn't journal on my last day at Grade Expectations. Turns, out it wasn't my last day there anyway! My "last" day I ended up filling out my exit survey and sharing my Math final with everyone. Those young people truly affected me. I learned so much about myself, how lazy I can be, how I can still avoid work, like a plaque. Most importantly, I learned about that old "victim", lying in wait just under the surface. He is a Master of control, and manipulation. He uses guilt, like the Cake Boss, uses icing. It is a hard, embarrassing lesson, but truth I need, desperately to embrace, I'm acutely aware, that if I fail to get these issues under wraps, I will certainly fail at the opportunities that lie ahead. I am so excited to do God's work here, and what an unbelievable chance to do just that very thing.

So, to Trish, Pauline, Karen, Georgia, Chad, Mike, Julie, and the many staff, & students who weren't afraid of truth, I say, "thank you". To Shannon, & Kendra, I offer my sincerest, heartfelt apologies, for any uncomfortable moments, for any awkward confrontation, and to you, I offer my biggest Thanks, and heartfelt appreciation for all you've done, and continue to do.

I've watched facebook, not all of my weekend was spent in front of the "Trek Marathon"! I noticed how many parents were so excited to be sending kids off, while I recognize the sense of jest, I have to wonder, how little appreciation is out there for the gift of parenting. I've spent this last year, running from London, to St.Thomas, & back, on the average, of 4 times weekly. Between, school, my pardon, & registration at King's, it goes without saying, that much has been accomplished! Yet, I found myself with 13 days left to call, "My Summer". When we've typically had weekends, camped out, in Grampa's backyard, weekend trips to see family, or late movie nights, this summer has truly, passed me by! I know, I'll miss my kids as they head back. This year I'll look forward to Joey's grade 8yr. (he'll be looking at high school!), Josh's grade 10yr. (he'll be wanting his driver's lic. next summer!), Jack's grade 6yr. (he'll be choosing his instrument this year!).

My bottom line is how time moves so fast, it's over before we know it. While so many are all to happy to see them going, I'll be looking forward to them getting home, as I look forward, I see, that they leave far too soon, this world eats them up so quickly, relationships, are gone before we've really had a chance to explore them. Take time to let them piss you off, take time to learn from them, and give them forgiveness, take time to mend a broken heart, bandage a scuffed knee. Revel in those frustrating moments, they're over far too quickly! Take time to tell them how much you've appreciated the time you've shared, and make memories to last a lifetime.

- Time is an angry whore, desperate for her payment ... (S.Gaudette/03/07/08)

Thanks to all who continue to offer love and support, your time and encouragement, it means so very much

Love, S.

- Something Special ...

- I wrote this piece toward the end of January / 09. Special thanks to Pauline, as it was through her encouragement specifically, that I submitted this to, two separate publications for consideration. As of this posting, I've heard nothing back. While I openly admit the contentious nature of the piece, and that some specific readers may take offense, I encourage you to see the experience in it. We will each respond differently to an event, and therefore each of us will certainly have a different story to report, this is mine, seen, felt, & witnessed, at the time of Dad's passing, an impressionable 17 yr. old boy ...

Something Special

For me, it was a book cover. Most wouldn't think much of a book cover, but for me there was little thinking involved. When Dad passed away, some scrambled for his gold chains, others argued over his wedding ring or his family ring. Still others wanted his birthstone ring or his ivory cribbage board. I wanted nothing. It wasn't for spite, or malice, anger nor bitterness, as time put distance from the event; I could imagine no material thing that would comfort me. The memories, painful or joyous, were all I could embrace.

Those very memories led me to the doors of sobriety, and it was here that I remembered his book covers. How many he made, I will probably never know. They were mostly for "Big Books", but I can remember Father Herm's; it was hand crafted for that huge book on the altar. I remember some, much smaller, he'd made for friends' "O.D.A.A.T.'s", that daily meditation, pocket book. Still, the memories of his busy hands, and those memories his friends took the time to share with me, were enough.

Then came the day when mom left all of those boxes with us. She mentioned that no one had opened them in years, and told us to give away anything we didn't want. We've yet to give away anything! To paint a picture for others, I've often referred to the scene in the movie, "Raiders of the Lost Ark", where we witness the opening of the ark; it felt very much like that as Sara and I peered down into the box we'd just opened. There were handfuls of pictures, older than I am now, reams of writing, and papers full with doodles and sketches.

As if all of this weren't enough, I'm certain that I felt Dad nudge my shoulder to keep looking. "Slow down", Sara cautioned. There, on the bottom, lay all of his art supplies, all of his leather working tools, and, most breathtaking of all, as I looked forward to my fifth year in sobriety, I pulled from the box, the very, hand tooled, stained and finished, leather book cover my father had made for himself.

No, these boxes contained no gold, no ivory, no stones signifying the month of one's birth. Mostly, they held old doodles, art supplies, pictures, newspaper clippings, old posters, and magazines. We viewed thoughts and pondering, delivered from head, to hand, and then to paper. We found old textbooks and passports, "Love Notes" from Reg to Deanna, and letters he'd written to us. I'd lost him at seventeen, and it would be almost fourteen years till I found him again, in a bunch of old boxes, and when I did, he gave me a book cover.

S. Gaudette
01 / 29 / 09

- each of us has those moments that define us in ways, we maybe don't even appreciate until much later. While I report this experience as accurately as I can, I can tell you that this moment, in my life, affected me in a way I did not fully appreciate for quite some time. It wasn't until I was well into my 7'th, 8'th, and 10'th years that I began to fully appreciate what my father passed on, and how this work of his hands, would stand as constant reminder of the task at hand, a job I take more seriously then mere words can express. Through drunken, criminal behaviour, I sought to be a husband, father, & a positive member of society. Given the opportunity, I failed miserably. Today, Clean, & Sober, I aspire to nothing less, yet I hope to share my sincere appreciation for the second chance I have, and those that have gone before, laying the foundation for me ...

- Love, S.