Seven Lives Not Fully Lived

Seven children taken in a tragic fire. Ahmad 14, Rola 12,Mohamad 9,Ola 8, Hola 3, Rana 2 and Abdullah 3 months. One mother left to grieve and a father fighting for his own life. A community , province and country mourning . Seven lives not fully lived. The pictures and the thoughts of those precious children breaks my heart . To truly grasp the loss of each young life is overwhelming. I ponder on the phrase 'a life well lived'. I attended two funerals this week of parents of friends. When an elderly person dies we tend to take comfort in those words. It is all any of us can hope for; a life well lived. The truth is of course that lives vary in duration. We know that as deeply as we know our own lives will end.I don't know how Kawthar Barho will find her way. I don't know what the future holds for Ebraheim Barho. I know the pain of losing a child and can not even fathom multiplying that by seven.I know too that somehow we carry on. A life well lived is not limited to an age, a finish line . Each life no matter how long matters and leaves something behind. Each of these seven children touched others in their young lives. A smile, a kind word, a friendship . The photographs show vibrant beautiful faces, vast potential and we mourn the tragic end of those precious lives and the promise those young lives held. Each day we are given is ours to treasure. Lives long lived or cut short are lives well lived and a miracle. Our time is limited, a small drop in the vastness of humanity. Let us be kind, be present, be thankful and live in amazement at our existence. Let us all be the best we can be and leave behind something of value.

Loving and Letting Go

Tears fill my eyes as I write this. I think back to this day ten years ago , a very similar day weather wise. The sun was shining , the air a nice winter temperature and the morning seemed like any other. But it was not. An early morning collision had taken the life of a beautiful woman , wife and mother and all that followed was to be forever altered.Loss does alter. It changes our course and determines a different future. It is however a part of who we are. For the last few days I have had two men on my mind, one of which is my Dad.In thinking of these two men I have thought of their mothers. In 1930 Blanche and Ida had baby boys within a few months of each other. These babies lived just a few miles from one another but their lives did not always intersect. They went to different one room school houses and lived in the nurturing worlds of two different families. They were both influenced by a beautiful river, strong rural values, hard farming work and a common community. They grew to be young men and married their sweethearts. They dedicated their lives to loving marriages , hard work and raising families. In later years they became good,constant friends to one another spending time around each others tables. Their wives put on good spreads taking great pride in their culinary offerings and their welcoming homes. The men enjoyed the food and the conversation. One man buried a son just a couple of years before the other buried a grandson and they both knew pain and sorrow. Both men watched with helplessness as their wive's health deteriorated. Both men buried their beloved wives and struggled to find a way to carry on without them. Both men faced health challenges of their own and watched as their decline crept up on them. Both men had daughters who have often shared their feelings as they watch their strong fathers falter. This morning I feel that connection , that shared history and a thankfulness for the gift of Blanche and Ida's baby boys .In thinking of those two men one of which passed away on Thursday I am reminded deeply of the circle of life. Mothers, babies, sons, daughters , parenting , grand parenting, living the lives we have been given to live. Loving and letting go. Past, present and future all a powerful tangle, a road to navigate and find our way along.

Another Storm Day

I am so glad I traveled on Monday and am not stranded in an airport as this storm sweeps though North America. I spent last week in Alberta wrapped in a 'take your breath away' bitter cold. I came home to bearable winter temperatures but a landscape of ice . Now the snow is falling and if we are lucky perhaps it will stay snow and adhere to the ice allowing animals and people to walk about . Our cows and pigs have cautiously stayed on sanded paths. Our friend fell and broke his wrist in our yard being a helpful neighbor. I have not walked or gone snow-shoeing for weeks as even stepping off my back step is treacherous and not worth the injury of a fall.I long for the outside,the standing in a snowy clearing and gazing up at the sky.Perhaps after this storm I will be given that pleasure. But today I sit in my office in my warm and comfortable home and take the gifts being here offers. I will return to my work in progress and move the story along. Travel is not recommended is the message I keep hearing when my radio returns to local news. No problem! I will take that advice and stay right where I am.