A Beautiful Stay at Home Day

Zac used to have a tee shirt that said 'My sit around and do absolutely nothing shirt'. I don't have a shirt that says that and I rarely sit and do nothing but today I would want my tee shirt to say 'Stay home and do next to nothing and only do what I feel like doing'. Way too long and not a catchy slogan but today my last day before my Italy trip is going to be whatever I feel like it being. Yesterday I went to the market. It was slow and definitely winding down for the season. The blustery weather felt appropriate for the change of season.I only sold three books but enjoyed the morning. I will miss my market mornings. Dad came over for breakfast and on the 20th anniversary of the market it seemed fitting to see the man there that was such a part of building it and helping it thrive in those twenty years.Burton picked Dad up and together they prepared the place for Mom's burial. We met as a family and laid her to rest at around 3:00. The clouds parted , blue sky appeared and the sun shone brightly down upon us. We stood in that small churchyard overlooking the beautiful Saint John river and said our goodbyes. It was perfect.We came back and talked and ate together and reflected on the journey. I am proud to say we faced the last months together as a strong and loving family unit each one stepping up to do what each day and hour required of them. I do believe Mom would be proud of each one of us. Now as we find our way toward what comes next we take that confidence and closeness with us. So today I will settle. I will try to rest and regroup and prepare for another type of journey. This journey will see me board a plane and leave this continent for the first time. I am so looking forward to whatever lies ahead and believe I have made all the necessary preparations. I am so thankful for the opportunity and the perfect timing of this excursion. I will not be gone long and must say I am so looking forward to the coming home and the hunkering down for a winter of writing and doing what I feel like doing. Arrivederci!

Two Sam's, Six Future Nurses and an Author at Starbucks

Book clubs come in all shapes and sizes. Yesterday's book club came in the shape of six future nurses.I met the group at a long table in the west side Starbucks. From the first moment I joined them it became evident that the little book they were holding had made a big impact. How thrilling for this author, this teacher and this mother.I asked first how they had stumbled upon The Year Mrs. Montague Cried and was so pleased to hear it was given to them as part of a list of books to choose for the study and presentation they were required to do for one of their classes.It thrilled me even more to hear that as they tried to find enough copies of the book,former nursing students who had used the book in previous years were unwilling to part with their copies. I have often said that the measure of a good book for me is one that I hug closely to my heart after I finish reading it and one I place in my book shelf so I can return to it whenever I want to.Yesterday I signed the student's own copies for them and take such joy in knowing they feel the same way about my little book.I say little book because it is a slim volume of just 158 pages ; a quick read of short journal entries,but it packs a punch. The questions and discussion of so many aspects of the story was proof of that and even the girl at the other end of the table who was not involved in the book club was caught up in the power of this little book. I am proud of this of course but see the story within the pages as much more than my story. It is the universal story of love , loss, family, suffering, fear, laughter and courage, challenge and accomplishment.Thank you for inviting me fourth year students, future nurses and caregivers. Thanks Jenn, Jenna, Scott, Sam , Sam and Huijin for letting one little book speak volumes about the caring, compassion and understanding needed in your chosen profession.

So Glad for October

"I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November,wouldn't it? " (Chapter sixteen of Anne Of Green Gables).As I look out my office window at the cacophony of color in the field and in the hills across the road I second Anne's sentiment. I have always loved October but this year especially my soul needs this month to recover.On this beautiful, sunny, October Sunday morning I take stock and rejoice in the gift October is to me.I have a crock of baked beans slowly cooking in the oven and will fashion a Sunday supper feast available to any of my loved ones who gather in.I will walk the wood road above my house as last week I somehow missed the opportunity to take the benefits a wood road walk always offers. I guess rain and cold and circumstance robbed me of that but today I will make it a priority. Yesterday I went to the market then into the city for two book signings. Book signings are not my favorite aspect of the writing life but really as I have stated before it is a privilege even when it feels futile and the plethora of books surrounding you makes you feel like an inconsequential insect ; a small bug under glass hoping someone might find your species interesting. That sounds a bit dramatic but signings do give one lots of thinking time. I have a habit of conducting tallies as I watch people go by. Yesterday I tallied Mothers and Daughters, mothers and sons, scarves,and ponytails. Too much time on my hands obviously. But with that being said I had memorable interactions and sold a few books. I met a woman named Lois and we had a lovely chat. She bought Waiting For Still Water.I had two Aunt Lois', one on each side of the family. I loved them both but after talking to yesterday's Lois I recalled the day Zac died when I asked my sister in law to call my Aunt Lois. When she returned from making that call her words describing my aunt's reaction alerted me immediately to the fact that she had contacted the wrong Aunt Lois. I asked her to call the other one and within the appropriate travel time my Aunt Lois arrived at my door. Recalling the moment she , my Uncle Bernie and my cousin Joy walked through the door still makes me weep.Back to the beauty of October. How can the palate of leaves be so amazing that each shade flickers and sparkles in the sunshine. It is a splendid last dance before the trees stand bare and colorless in November . They give up their beauty knowing it will be crystals of snow and ice on stage next.This year October speaks loudly to me of those stages we experience in our own existence. My mother's outward beauty had its day , had its dance and as her life waned the luster diminished. But as I looked at my mother in those last days I saw a beauty beyond the adornments of hair and jewelry and fashion. I saw the lasting beauty of who she was and the mark she left on those who knew her. Ok enough already. I will take this beautiful day and savor it. I will cook and clean, watch my husband as he begins to carry in our winter's wood taking great joy in my surroundings and the gift of October.

Go With the Flow

Apparently yesterday was Mental Health Awareness Day.I think it is great that there is a day set aside for a dialogue about mental illness. I do however feel it is a dialogue we need to have every day with ourselves and with our loved ones. Mental wellness certainly requires an inner chat every day. It is a daily ongoing struggle to put that wellness front and center, to find the crucial tools for dealing with the highs and lows, the pitfalls and to give ourselves permission to be exactly however we are day by day. The inner struggle requires lots of dialogue and lots of acceptance.We need to be as kind to ourselves as we strive to be to others. It is ok to not be ok. In a life that ebbs and flows with joy, sorrow, challenge and victory it is perfectly normal to falter and fail and flounder. Cling to your own lifeline while taking hold of the help others offer. There is no easy , right way to journey through this life and even though it sometimes looks like everyone else has it figured out we are all swimming in the same uncertain waters.

The Faces of Love

I am weary but again feel compelled to sit at the keyboard. I expect many of my blog entries in the next while will echo the sorrow of loosing my Mom. There is grieving to do and it will unfold and take shape as I drag my weary self into the next weeks and months. This morning as I scrolled through my FB feed I came upon the picture of two of the most precious women in my life. Their smiles, their eyes, the tilt of their heads were the same. One a grandmother, the other a beloved granddaughter on her wedding day. As the mother of one and daughter of the other I can look deeply into the faces in that picture and feel the love. I recall making the phone call to tell that grandmother a baby girl had been born. I also recall my mother standing at the window watching as we drove or rather as the tractor pulled our truck up the driveway in a blizzard so we could take the trip to the hospital the April night that baby girl was born. I also recall that grandmother's reaction as the big brother announced a second baby was due." Don't be ridiculous" was the quote that became a famous one in our family. The practical grandmother doubted our wisdom to have a second child while still living in a small shed, with dreams of building our forever house on the property Burton's father had given him so he could fulfill his dream of having a farm. Oh boy I'm diving deep in the emotional pool this morning. Back to the faces and the love these two women held for one another.On this my granddaughter's birthday I think of my attempt to be the kind of grandmother my Mom was to my daughter.The devotion of time, of worry , of concern ,unconditional love and caring interest was constant.I see all that in my mother's eyes as she stands beside her granddaughter . Mom's speech had already faltered and her words were not plenty that day but she was beaming with pride and happiness.We filled picture boards for display at the funeral parlor. The photographs exist as evidence of the years of love and devotion. Compiling those photographs reminded me of the importance of taking(and printing) pictures especially in our smartphone digital age, but more importantly it made me think of the value of making lasting memories with those we love.These are my thoughts on this particular day as I receive news of the birth of a new great niece and speak on the phone to my seven year old granddaughter before she heads out the door for school on her birthday day. A legacy of family and love will keep this tired body going and propel me ahead. Oh and my nine year old granddaughter is reading The Sewing Basket. How thrilling to hear her reflections as she discovers the familiar in those pages.The many faces of love.