Sunday, October 25, 2020

RIP Richard

 I sadly acknowledge the passing of Richard Vaughan and extend my condolences to his family, friends, colleagues, readers , the city of Fredericton, the UNB community and to each and every one of us. His passing has taken something from us all. Every person who searched for him, prayed for him , heard updates on his disappearance, each first responder and whoever found his body have been impacted by his loss. One man's influence and the reach of his words , his passions, his life has a sad and tragic ending. He is no more in a physical sense and many will mourn. We all should mourn a life too soon over . I did not know Richard but it is a smiling photo that I see in my mind's eye as I write this. His work will live on. And the rest of us carry on . For now we are given another day. This day , a Sunday in late October which offers us gifts for the taking. Of course into this day we carry concerns and heartaches but the day is ours to do what we will. For me I will savor the seasonal gifts of fall colors before the trees are stripped bare for winter. I will cook my mother's famous mustard pickles and will pickle beets. I will enjoy whatever grandchildren walk through my door. I will prepare a family supper and welcome whoever gathers round our table. I will anticipate tomorrow's writing with a zeal for getting back to Jasper's Road. Yesterday I began rereading Ten Thousand Truths and was reminded of what it was that made Amelia so special


, so effective and so meaningful in the lives she touched. Food, tradition, place, purpose , acceptance , love and dedication. I fall short. I make mistakes but I put my feet on the floor everyday and keep trying. I am thankful for this another day and for my place and purpose. 

Thursday, October 15, 2020

It is Not All About Me

 I feel a heaviness this morning that has been building for quite some time. I use the same tools daily to shake this heaviness but still it keeps mounting. I make my grateful list and it is extensive . I take my wood road walks and they are a gift. I  try my best to see my glass half full and most days I can. But what about the days I want to smash my glass against a wall and scream . Or the days I want to hide,  to walk or run away from all the worry and heartache. What about those days when I can't get out of my own way. A missing writer in Fredericton  is on my mind. I don't know him but hear all the worry and concern in the voices of those who do. Where is he and is he OK? Has he succumbed to the heaviness? I feel the sadness of the first year anniversary of loosing Dad and Gladys. I feel the strain and stress of family tension and I want that heaviness to lift. I want to feel hope , optimism, joy and see joy and hope in the people around me. I believe this is a stressful time for so many. We are caught up in the drama and frightening happenings south of the border and lots of concerning situations in our own country. We are daily reminded of the pandemic and all the changes and challenges that brings. I was reluctant to write this entry this morning , reluctant to admit to my present state of mind. I do know it is not all about me. I know all the things I know and still struggle to pull myself out of the funk I feel. The sun shines bright and I know there are better days ahead. I know things could be so much worse and this too shall pass. I know feeling sorry for myself doesn't help one little bit. Complaining and whining doesn't help at all. I know all this and I know sometimes just putting the words down helps  a bit. I want the heaviness to lift for more than just me.


Thursday, October 8, 2020

And Then it's October

Looking out my office window I know it is October again. I feel it in the air and the early darkening skies in the evening. I feel the memory of the beginning days of October last year when my thoughts and my heart  were filled with the reality of them being Dad's and Gladys'  final days. I feel a certain heaviness looking back at my journal entries knowing what was waiting  for me last year. But October is so beautiful and holds so many comforting memories. For thirty four years we have as a family made our way to Kings Landing and allowed the beauty and peacefulness of that place be a part of our Thanksgiving. We hope to make our way there again this year and look forward to feeling October on the banks of the Saint John River in a village that feels like home to us. This October we are blessed with daily visits with Emma and Paige. I can also walk down to see my three other grandchildren  when they get off the bus. How blessed to have them all nearby. Last week I pulled off an escape by attending a Go and Write retreat  in St. Andrews and it was amazing. I had great interaction with fellow writers and lived in a grand house. But coming home was good too and the reality is I have a role at this stage of my life to be a wife ,mother and grandmother and that entails cooking, cleaning, and a fair bit of obsessing. I can also escape to my office and my writing and even though getting kids off the bus, making meals , doing laundry, managing this house and supporting my people gets thrown in I do not take that gift for granted. And would I want it any other way?

Sunday, October 4, 2020

Be Where You Are

 Last week I was away. This morning I am back home and reflecting on the gifts and lessons last week provided. They were numerous and memorable and for each one I am truly grateful or as my friend Martha said, simply grateful. Back home with a long list of jobs to get to I do not have enough time to give last week's writing retreat its due in this entry. Tomorrow in the quiet Monday, back to work time I will attempt to tell more and give tribute to the week that was. Today five more writers arrive and join Gerard and Janie for another retreat and I was tempted to stay , to hide out in one of the hidden stairwells like a stowaway and then to try to  blend quietly into the next group. But I came home and as always  I am happy to be here. I  am anxious to get back to my office tomorrow. But for one whole week I lived in this grand house and it is a week in the life of this writer that will not be forgotten.