Pink for Gabi: The inspiring story of Gabi's fight and friends.

I got a text from a former co-worker of mine last week; he said that he and his friends were planning a special pink-themed tailgate party outside the Bomber Stadium before last Thursday’s game for their friend Gabi, a fellow die-hard Bomber fan who is battling breast cancer. (Or, as my friend explained:  “Is kicking cancer’s ass.”)

“She had to give up her season tickets,” he explained of Gabi, who had poured years of her life into cheering on the boys in blue and gold both at home and in other stadiums in Canada. “We just want to show her that we’re supporting her.”

Now I don’t know Gabi, I’ve never even met her, but the story of this group of friends rallying around their friend in her time of need was inspiring.

Even though she couldn’t be at the game with them that night, they went out of their way to make sure that her presence was felt. And boy did they do a good job of that.

At just before 5 p.m. a core group of friends parked themselves on the East side of the stadium and began to set up a sort of shrine to Gabi. They decorated their Royal LePage RV with pink streamers and balloons. They all wore pink bandanas, jerseys, hats, t-shirts, beads, leis, boas, you name it, if it was pink they wore it… And they set up a banner on the side of the RV for people to sign, as a get well card to Gabi. The friends even bought extra pink leis and beads to give to passer-bys, so that other people in the stadium would be we supporting Gabi in her fight.

There they were, this group of friends, sending the ultimate shout out to someone they cared about.

Strangers walked by, some stopping to sign the card or leave some money to make a donation to Cancer Care in Gabi’s name. More than $130 was donated from people who were inspired by Gabi, her fight and her wonderful friends. Bomber President and CEO, Garth Butchko even checked in and gladly accepted the pink lei that was bestowed upon him. He posed for a picture (which I feel lucky enough to have been invited into) and introduced himself to the group.

The entire tailgate party and the thought that went into it was something to be in awe of. Beyond the time and money they spent on the ‘Pink for Gabi’ theme, the outpouring of love and support from Gabi’s friends and the strangers who passed by was incredible.

I wish Gabi a strong and speedy recovery in her journey.

It's called a Breakup...

I'm reading 'It's Called a Breakup Because It's Broken' by Greg Behrendt and Amiira Ruotola-Behrendt. (Greg also co-authored 'He's Just Not That Into You.')

Before you start judging me, I must confess that the had been sitting on my book shelf, dusty and unread for a long time. Ironically I bought it during my last relationship, while things were good. A sign of the inevitable perhaps, or maybe I just liked the cover design. Either way, it was a well invested $3.99. (Thanks Goodwill Store!)

The book is hilarious. It's not the standard "self-help book" that reaffirms one's sense of "I am good enough, strong enough...blah, blah, blah." Nope. The book is a  compilation of different breakup scenarios combined with well experienced advice from the authors. It's funny, and makes the whole lonely process universal.

What, you mean I'm not the only person that ever thought Mr. Guy was going to hit a wall and realize how much he loved me and that I am the one and only he ever wanted? I'm not the only one who has battled with my un-ringing phone, dying on the inside because he wasn't calling or texting me? ...I'm not the only one who has ever believed that all those love songs (i.e. Buckcherry's 'Sorry' or Bon Jovi's 'I'll Be There For You') were the soundtrack the the way he was going to feel one day? So you're telling me he actually likes the other girl, even though she's not me!? Oh. OK.

You get my point.

Over and over I see pieces of myself in every breakup I've ever had; from the guys I knew were never going to last in my life, to the one I thought was "it," the book covers the gamete of breakup woes and emotional instability. It's comforting and amusing.

I remember one breakup, probably the worst one I've ever been through when I was in my 20s, I thought I was literally going to die. (I know we all get that feeling when we get dumped, but this particular process of getting over him took FOREVER!) I remember planting myself on my couch, or in my bed for days, and just crying. Yep, that's all I did; cry. I didn't shower, I didn't wear makeup, and I didn't eat. I called in sick to work, because this breakup was like a terminal disease, and I had my friends over to talk about my heartache. Hell, I even burned some of the things he gave me one night over drinks while my friends cheered me on, probably hoping this pain would also go up in smoke. Sadly for them, that was only the beginning of the healing process.

Don't judge me, I was emotional and young.

In the years and relationships/breakups following, the process was always similar, but never quite the same. Each time my heart was broken, the same heavy emptiness washed over me, but unlike the time before I was a different person. In my most recent breakup, the process hurt just as badly as all the other times, but the confidence I never had in other of my other relationships seemed to be my saving grace. Once I finally learned the truth of the situation and of him, it became clear that he was the wrong one for me and that life would be fine, great even, without him.

(Note: That said, I will admit that I think poorly of some of the people I've dated, including the last guy. Some, including him, probably think poorly of me too. Doesn't matter really, that's the past.)

The bottom line is that if you want a good read, or are going through a breakup of your own, you should invest in this book. (Hell, if you're my friend or if we actually know each other, send me a message and I'll lend it to you.)

If you don't want to invest in this book, but are going through a rough time, I just have a couple of tidbits of advice for you:

1) Adele is awesome, but after a three day Adele bender (when you first breakup) turn that stuff off. She's so tormented in her music that even happy people in relationships feel her pain and anguish, you don't need anymore of that in your state. Stick to upbeat, happy tunes.

2) Friends who listen are the best therapists. Don't call or text the one who broke your heart. Lean on your friends, and make new ones. It's always surprising and heartwarming to see who steps up in your time of need. Appreciate it, because (in a different way) your breakup is hard on them too. They don't like to see you hurt, and they're trying really hard to make it better.

3) It'll take time to get over it, but that being said, you still need to go out and enjoy life (even if you don't enjoy anything at first.) The sad truth is that he is enjoying his life without you, so you need to do the same.

4) If he wronged you and you need to hate him, hate him. You need to go through those motions. However, even though you're probably thinking like an emotional maniac, make it your goal to move past the hate to indifference. Someone who hurts you isn't worth that type of emotion or thought process from you. Hate, revenge, regret, or holding onto someone who doesn't want you isn't in your best interest. Life is short.

5) Beware of airing your dirty laundry on social media sites, everyone you've ever met in your entire life doesn't need to know what's going on. It's awkward. (Hell, we've all done it. If you have, don't beat yourself up, just stop now.) Once you're over it you will probably feel silly for doing it. Your future self respect and dignity depend on this! The people who care already know everything anyway.

You'll be ok heartbroken warriors. Love yourself and you'll be surprised how quickly you bounce back. I'll leave you with a quote a friend of mine texted to me when I was entrapped in breakup-ville.



Love,

Shelley C. xo

Mom, meet the Elephant. Elephant, meet mom.

I'm always astounded by my mom's deep knowledge and understanding of her children. I'd say that my mom and I are close, but there are things that I haven't and won't share with her. That being said, I believe she knows me better than I sometimes know myself.

I had been keeping a secret from my mom for a long time. It wasn't something overly secretive to my friends; it was just something that was a part of my life that I didn't think my mom needed to know.

My "secret" is something I don't deem necessary to share on the internet, as I like to keep some aspects of my life personal. However, in blogging about it, I want to tell the part of the story that isn't too personal to share: How much my mom knows and loves me.

Today I finally introduced my mother to the Elephant in the room. The introduction was an unexpected and unplanned Saturday afternoon telephone conversation.

Things started off normally enough: "How are you? What are you doing today? How's work?..." The small-talk kind of stuff that my mom and I routinely chat about. "I'm fine," I told her. "How are you?"

As usual, my mom caught me up with the happenings of her life; she talked a little bit about her trip to Kamloops, my nieces, and what she had done that morning. It was the same old small talk, and then she asked again how I was doing.

"Fine," I relented. "I'm not going to give you details, but I'm going through kind of a hard time right now," is what I told her.

"I know," she said.

"You know?" I asked.

"Yeah, I know," she said.

"What exactly do you know?" I asked.

And she told me exactly what she knew.

"Who told you?" I asked.

"Nobody, I'm your mother." She said.

I sat there on my floor, phone pressed to my ear and Elephant beside me. I didn't expect this exchange to ever happen, yet it was happening, and she left it up to me how the conversation was going to go. Understanding and maintaining an impassive attitude, she offered the details she knew, without asking for any in return.

(Mom, this is the Elephant. Elephant, mom. "Oh hello Elephant in the room, it's nice to finally formally meet you.")

In the grand scheme of things, the "secret" is nothing important. (Anyone reading this is probably coming up with all sorts of salacious scenarios about me, but trust me, it's nothing near as juicy or exciting as you are probably thinking.) In fact, I know I could have told my mom at any time, I just didn't feel I wanted or needed to.

I respect my mom immensely for the way she conducted herself. Here I was, shutting her out of a piece of my life, and she waited outside the metaphorical door for when (or if) I was ready to ever let her in. She never tried to barge in, or make me introduce her to my Elephant. In fact, she was very hospitable to the Elephant, welcoming the shy, invisible stranger into her life and waiting for me to introduce the two if I saw fit. She watched me from afar, keeping an eye on me the whole time, like any mother does.

There are many times in my life that I've kept secrets from my mom. I'm her daughter, that's what daughters do. Yet, I know (and probably even knew before this) that she knows me far greater than I think she does. It's comforting.

Thanks mom.

Kamloops

I'm in Kamloops right now, sitting on CJ's balcony, Listening to the birds chirp, and looking at the cloud-covered mountains. It sounds cheesy, but I feel like I'm in a postcard.

Feels good to be away from Winnipeg. Though I love it there, this vacation feeling of not knowing anybody and getting hopelessly lost on twisty mountain roads kind of gives me butterflies. It always makes me remember how big the world is, and how much there is to see. (Ironic, since I'm in a city a lot smaller than Winnipeg...)

I arrived here a few days ago. After two plane rides, and a hell of a lot of anxiety riddled thoughts of every terrible plane incident I've ever heard of, CJ picked me up from the airport with a bunch of rainbow balloons and a box of Rocky Mountain chocolates. I was exhausted, and confused about the time difference. It's surprising how much of a difference two hours can make on your system.

I didn't really know what to expect of Kamloops. I think I imagined this city to be smaller than it actually is. I pictured Portage la Prairie with mountains, when in fact, there is nothing in Manitoba that is similar to Kamloops. The mountains surround the city. There are so many curvy roads and highways that make your ears pop and make you lose all sense of direction. Thank God for GPS.

Being here, in BC with CJ, makes me realize how much of a life she has out here. Obviously I know she's got a life away from Winnipeg, but it's so different to see her BC life over Facebook or to hear about it on the phone, then it is to actually be here. I don't know if I am even making sense, but it's good to see how well my little sister is doing. She's got a nice apartment, a good job. She has friends, and has amassed a whole bunch of 'stuff' from living out west for six years. When she left home, she did it with her whole life packed into two suitcases! You'd never know that now, looking around her apartment. She fits in; a girl with a Winnipeg soul and a BC heart.

I'm proud of my sister, and so excited to be with her for a week in her home. I'm admittedly a little envious of her, for living in such a beautiful place, and for having the balls to venture so far away from home. I know I'll never move too far from Winnipeg, but I guess the lucky thing for me is that I have a sister who did.

Time to meet her for lunch...

Remembering Carla.

A few months ago I went back to my old elementary school for a work project. Walking through the doors was strange, just being inside of the building evoked feelings and memories of my childhood that I'd long forgotten. The halls were strangely tiny and familiar.

There are only a few places that can take you back into a different time of your life like a school can.

As I was leaving I walked past rows and rows of grade six class photos hanging on the wall. I immediately looked for mine and for my sisters' pictures. I was in awe of how small we were; how dated the photos were. It seemed like so long ago, yet the memories were flooding back to me.

I examined the photos, looking for familiar faces and names, and I came across a girl I knew named Carla Caldwell. Carla was a girl who lived in the same housing complex as me. She and I weren't really friends, because she was a year older, but we went to school and brownies together and we played with the same kids around the neighbourhood.

Carla is someone I would have probably forgotten about, like so many of the people I grew up with, except, unlike the rest of those people, Carla's life (and sudden death) haunted (and perhaps still haunt) all of us who knew her.

In 1991 Carla and her little brother Jamie were murdered by their father in a botched murder suicide attempt during their weekend visit to his Sherbrook Street apartment. Their father, Carl, was a sick man, who stole his young children's lives for reasons I'm not sure anyone can explain. (He succeeded in killing himself in jail a year or two later.)

Finding Carla's picture at school brought back so many emotions and memories. I feel such sadness when I think about Carla and Jamie. I think about their mother, and the profound sense of loss she will carry for the rest of her life. I think about the two kids who never had the chance to grow up and experience life. I think about the kids who grew up with Carla and Jamie who will always be haunted with memories and what ifs.

I've tried to google her over the years, looking to review her case with a set of grown up eyes, to no avail. (I would like to rummage through old newspapers one day when I have time...) The only piece of Carla that I can find is on the walls of my old elementary school.

RIP Carla and Jamie.

Musings for a new year

Looking ahead to 2012, it's a fresh slate for all of us.

I can't predict what the new year will bring, but I can assure that 2012 will be met with good times and bad times, happiness and sorrow. We will experience new things, meet new friends, stay connected with old friends, and continue on with what's already familiar to us. Perhaps for some of us, the new year will see us lose friends, fall out of love, or mourn the passing of someone we will love forever.

Life is unpredictable, the only thing we can control is how we deal with it.

This year, if I may, I have some advice for all of us; advice I want to heed in my own life, so that I can be a better person. Advice that will be hard to live by, yet will make life easier in the long run. Advice that will make the world a better place.

Defy odds by not letting people determine the outcome of your life: It's easy to give up the moment someone tells you that something is impossible. Yet there are people who defy the odds every single day, creating miracles, because they didn't let somebody else tell them they couldn't do something. These are the people who change the world and pave the way for the rest of us. These are leaders, who aren't afraid to think and try things for themselves. Even if they fail, these are the people that find peace in failure because they discovered it on their own.

Always change, never conform: Always strive to change, because that's what life is about; growth and change. Learn new things, do things that you enjoy and try doing things that scare you. Take a leap of faith every once in awhile. Don't do things just because other people want you to, do them because you want to do them. Life is too short to try and appease others. The greatest relationships are the ones with people who truly like you, not the ones who only certain aspects of you. We can't control other people, the way they act, think or feel. But we can control ourselves.

It's exhausting to try and be somebody you're not, so don't.

Be good to others: Kindness can change the world because empathy and compassion are contagious. Treat others as you would like to be treated, and almost all of the time the treatment will be reciprocated. You will have experiences with people who are unpleasant and mean, that's just one of those inevitables in life, but learning to turn the other cheek without being abused is an art form that only serve to build character and make you better.

Give without expecting anything in return. Try not to judge people; you have no idea what kind of life they've had. Be genuine, honest and respectful. It will take work, perhaps even a lifetime to achieve, but the intrinsic rewards will be plenty.

Read so you always have something other than yourself to talk about. Let yourself really laugh at something funny, even if it's loud and embarassing. Tell people how important they are to you before it's too late– The most touching eulogies are the ones we give to people while they're still alive. Sometimes the most important thing we can do for other people is tell them how much they mean to us.

Be good to yourself: Respect yourself and others will respect you. Don't settle for a relationship, a job or a lifestyle that you're just OK with. Always strive for what you want; if you work hard enough you will get it.

Don't hate people, it will only serve to make you bitter. Let those people go. Living well is the best "revenge" anyway.

Take time to listen to people, and save your good conversations and thoughts for people who want to listen to you. You are the ruler of your life, never give that away.

All the best in 2012 friends, may we all work toward making the world a better place.

PHOTO: Sunny S-H Photography.

The power of social media

Last week my Missing Manitoba Women Facebook page helped located a 14-year-old missing girl.

(Wow, the power of social media never ceases to amaze me.)

This girl's mom, Shannon Buck, posted her daughter, Lauren Chopek's picture on my page. The girl didn't return home from school the day before, and Buck was going out of her mind. I messaged Buck, and she sent me a missing poster and asked if I could post it on my page. Since the poster was in a Word document format, I quickly laid it out in InDesign and posted the JPG to my wall.

Lauren's poster went viral; people from all over the world started reposting it and sending well wishes to her family. People in places like Germany, India, Australia, the US, Europe...The entire world was looking for this girl. It was incredible to see.

I kept in touch with Lauren's mom through facebook on a day-to-day basis, thinking the girl would come home within a couple of days. However, each day I would get the same response from Buck: "She is not home." By this point, I think both of us started to freak out even more. Since I'm a CreComm student, I pulled some of my "CreComm Mafia super powers" and sent out a mass email and a plea on Twitter for my media friends to pick up Lauren's story. (Thank the Lord for Twitter!)

The first story about Lauren ran on CBC on October 13. (Click here to watch the clip)

Following CBC's story, Buck's plea was also answered by the Winnipeg Sun, The Metro Winnipeg.

Last Saturday morning I woke up to a text from Buck. "Lauren is home." It was surreal, I was really starting to get scared that something bad had happened. (I kept telling Buck that she'd be fine, because I really thought she would be, but when more days passed and Lauren wasn't found I started to get really scared.)

Later Saturday morning I got a message on Facebook from one of my Facebook friends, Jackie Traverse; she told me that she found Lauren the night before at a Winnipeg Hotel. Jackie, an Aboriginal artist and missing and murdered women advocate said that she was having a few drinks at the hotel when she spotted the girl. She said she recognized her from the pictures from the Missing Manitoba Women page. Jackie went to talk to Lauren, and made her call her mom, and then waited with Lauren until her mother picked her up. She is a true hero.

Thanks to social media sites like Facebook and Twitter, and all of the people who posted, and re-posted Lauren's picture, the girl was found and reunited with her family.

Click here to see Global's coverage of the story after Lauren was found.

My exit from the Daily Graphic

Here is the last (and only) column that I wrote for the Daily Graphic– a goodbye to all the wonderful people I met.

Rolling into Portage la Prairie last May to start my summer job as a reporter for the Portage Daily Graphic, I wasn’t sure what to expect– this was my first paying gig out of journalism school.

I’ll admit, being from Winnipeg, I wasn’t overly familiar with the community, but I was excited to learn about Portage and all it had to offer. I was also stoked to meet the people who call this place home. From covering the weekly lunches at the Portage Rotary Club to meeting new business owners like Jennifer Lamber of Memories In Time Scrapbooking, or the Aggarwal family who own the two Olina shops in town, there was a learning experience in every story I wrote.

There were also some days that the challenges of this job became personal; even though a reporter is never supposed to become emotionally involved in a story, it’s sometimes impossible. Covering this year’s historic flood that destroyed so many peoples homes and livelihoods, or speaking to Amber McFarland’s mom Lori a day after the missing woman’s 28th birthday were some of the hardest stories I’ve ever had to write. Yet, while my heart broke for these people, it also warmed to the fact that I saw a strength and resiliency that is so rare in the outside world, yet almost ‘normal’ here in Portage.

Outside of the city, in the Central Plains region, I have also been lucky to have met some awesome people, like the folks in MacGregor, who I’ve written a number of stories about this summer. I am in awe of the entire community for how much passion they have for their beloved NorMac arena. When they went up against Arborg for the Kraft Celebration Tour on July 21, I was assigned the duty of following them through their journey. It was an absolute pleasure to report that they had won the contest, and I look forward to celebrating with them on August 27 when TSN’s SportsCentre broadcasts live from MacGregor.

This is an experience is one that I will never forget. Besides being a wonderful career stepping stone, my position at the Daily Graphic has left me with so many wonderful new friends, not only in the office, but out in the community as well. Rest assured that you will see my family and I at the ninth annual Potato Festival next year, and you might bump into me at the MCC every now and again. I’ll definitely be back next strawberry season to indulge in some of the tastiest berries I’ve ever eaten, and if I’m in the city on a Tuesday afternoon, the Rotary Club can expect an extra guest for lunch.

To my colleagues at the Daily Graphic, you have all been so nice, thank you for everything. Everybody in the office keeps telling me the newsroom will be super quiet without me, I am still trying to figure out if that’s a good thing or a bad thing...

Portage la Prairie you have been an excellent host, I will never forget this summer. From the bottom of my heart, Thank you.