Gerd - the sleep thief of the night.

I truly hope I get more sleep tonight than I did last night.

Last night I didn't get to sleep until 3:00 am, and then I woke up at 5:00 am, and stayed up.

The problem: Gerd.  That awful feeling in the back of my throat, that burns, makes me cough and prevents sleep.  It prevents going to sleep, and it wakes me up with a mouthful of yellowie-orangie gunk that burns my mouth and hurts my teeth.  When it suddenly wakes me up, I can't wait to spit it out.  I fumble for the light in almost a panic, as I try to get up find a kleenex to spit it into.

And that is why, I wondered through the day, almost asleep.

I truly hope it doesn't happen again tonight, and I can sleep peacefully.

I know that it's like to flee danger in the middle of the night.

I know what it's like to flee my house in the middle of the night, with almost nothing.  I know the panic of danger, and the urgent need to get everybody out.  And I know how hard it is to leave your own house, a house you lived in for years, because you can't find a way out.

No I am not a refugee.

Yes I do know.

What I was fleeing was: fire.  One of our doors had a fire blocking it, another was frozen shut because we never use it, and our escape ended up being a window.  It was -47 C (-52 C with windchill), outside, and being outside in nothing but pyjamas wasn't very safe, but it was safer than staying inside with the flames.

I know what it's like to flee into the middle of the night, and not know where you're going, only that you have to leave.  I know what's like to lose everything, but still be thankful that every living thing survived.

And that is one of the reasons I'm thankful that Canada is supporting 25,000 refugees.

I have other reasons.  When we were fleeing the fire, I grabbed my purse and my mother's purse, because I worked with somebody who was a refugee.  I'd heard how difficult it is to prove who you are, without an ID, and I wasn't going to be in that difficult situation of trying to prove I lived in the house that burned down.

It took us 9 months to work through the insurance, get our house rebuilt and move back in and then another 2 years of court cases to get everything settled.

And I wasn't a refugee.  I didn't have to move to another country, live in a refugee camp, risk my live, or learn a new language.  And still the wounds of that fire still hurt.  It's been almost 5 years and I still don't trust.  My home is not a place of safety anymore.  It's a place of hurt and danger.  I don't know if I'll ever feel save again, because I know now that anything can happen to me, even at home, where I once felt safe.

The refugees must feel that way too.  They didn't flee a fire, they fled bombings and gunfire.  Unlike my family, they didn't get a chance to go home.  If they don't get refugee status in some country, they will not belong to any country.  They will never be able to even have a chance to feel safe again, if we don't allow them to come to Canada.

Recently I saw a picture on twitter, of a home that was ready for a new refugee family.  It looked a lot like the furnished home, that the insurance agency settled us in, while our home was rebuilt.  I remembered how thankful I was that there were homes, available to those that had nothing because of fire.  Everything was in that house, including dish washer detergent.  We were given $50 each to buy clothing.  I lived with one pair of jeans, one t-shirts, one jacket, one pair of shoes and several pairs of underwear and socks for 9 months.  It it wasn't that hard to live with next to nothing.

I wonder if that's how the refugees feel?

There are other reasons that I believe refugees should be welcomed in Canada, and maybe I'll share those reasons with you at another time, but right now, this is what I'm sharing.

I don't know what it's like to be a refugee but I can imagine that it must be even scarier than fleeing from a burning house, because at least we had insurance, and we knew that eventually things would be replaced.  Refugees don't know that.  They truly have nothing, not even statehood, if we don't give it to them.

Yes I am arguing semantics.

"You're arguing semantics", something said to me in a very authoritative and unfriendly tone of voice.

I was 19 years old, and going college.  I didn't know what semantics were, and I asked.

The answer: "What you're doing right now."

That didn't help at all, and it ruined my line of thought.  I still didn't agree, but didn't know what I was doing wrong in the discussion.

~

Semantics, is the agreement of the meanings of words and phrases, and although somebody seem to think arguing semantics, is trivial or wrong, it is very important.

If two people are ever going to discuss anything they, better agree on semantics.  If those same two people, don't agree on semantics, or don't know that they disagree on semantics, misunderstands, hurt feelings, and anger will result.

Have you ever had a discussion with somebody, only to realize you were both saying the same thing, in different ways but didn't know it.  It's because you didn't agree on the semantics.

Language and communication, hinges on agreed semantics.  If I think that the wet stuff that is coming from the sky is called snow, but somebody else thinks it's called rain, our resulting conversation about it, will be confusing to both of us.  And conversely, if I think that a car is anything that has four wheels and drives, but somebody else thinks a car must be a sedan, than we will be talking about two different things when we talk about cars.  The problem is, if we don't agree not the semantics before hand, both of us, will be confused.  Arguments can result in angered upon semantics.  Hurt feelings, broken friendship and resentments can result from arguments.

If you took it further, and nobody ever agreed on semantics, nobody would understand what anybody was saying.  It would be like everybody speaking a separate language.  Understanding each other depends on us all having the same understanding of the meanings of words and phrases.  If for instance, I say "Let's watch TV", but somebody else interprets that as "Let's go swimming", somebodies going to look awfully silly, coming out of the bathroom in a bathing suit.

~

Back to that person in college.  Essentially, with his authoritative and unfriendly tone, he either didn't understand what semantics were himself, or he was trying to confuse me, because he didn't have an answer to what I was trying to say.

And best response to the statement "You're arguing semantics.", is "You bet I am."

I want my $15 back.

A strange thing happened today.

I went to the grocery store, bought $45 worth of stuff, gave the clerk 3 twenties, and then....

The clerk put the money in the drawer and walked away.

No change.

No "Thank you for shopping at ______."

No nothing.

I stood there with my wallet open, and my grocery cart and stared, but he was gone.

I left the store, wondered the mall, picked up my groceries from parcel pick up, and then...

I didn't know.  $15.  I can absorb that, and I didn't want to make a big fuss.  The idea of forgiveness vrs getting even played over and over in my head.  I used to always try to forgive and turn the other cheek.

But I just didn't want to.  So I took my receipt, marked into the store, asked for the manager and told her what happened.  She said she'd do an audit of the till and phone me back.  I gave my name and phone number and left.

But still...

It's the weirdest thing.  I've never had that happen before.  I'm not sure what to think or feel about it.

Astonishment.  Anger.  Hurt.  Revenge.  Confusion.

And part of me is hoping he gets fired or reprimanded.

Another part of me thinks I'm never going to get that $15 back.  I gave her the receipt, and now I have no prove it happened.

The store will lose a lot more than $15 in the future, because I'm not ever going to shop there again, and a life time of groceries is a lot more than $15.  If that guy does it to other people, the store will start wondering why people aren't going there anymore.