What This Day Gave Me

 The sun is setting. The cross breeze I feel through the two open windows has only a slight coolness but thankfully this is the least stifling room upstairs. After my evening swim I sat awhile on the front veranda and reflected on this day. It was a hot one. Many places are dealing with heat waves and our temperatures are high as well. I am so thankful for my lake and after a long hot day jumping in felt amazing. It was market day and despite my early morning reluctance to leave my bed I was blessed yet again with both return readers and new ones. I saw a woman approach my table and knew she looked familiar . This often happens and I quickly search my mind  for a name or memory of a previous interaction. When this lady spoke I knew the connection right away. Her Irish accent and the name she spoke took me right back to another day  years ago when I met her friend Georgie who was visiting from Ireland. I don't exactly remember which book Georgie bought but I remember I took one or two more to the Kingston store and met her a few days later as she was returning to Ireland and wanted more books. Several times since her friend has come and bought her my latest and sent them over to her. How amazing is that! I had one woman come up to my table today with all my books listed and the years they were published looking for two she was missing. I stood and caught up with several friends one of which was visiting Saint John for her 51st High School reunion. She found her way to the market to see me and get some books. We talked a long time but it did not feel long enough. I stood and talked to another dear friend about the huge task she has ahead of her as she prepares for her son's wedding. We too needed more chatting time. While talking I glimpsed a woman  I knew I should know , nodded hello and then spent the next while racking my brain to recall who she was and how I knew her. Overstimulated I call it and sometimes I feel like my brain freezes up. It can be somewhat exhausting especially in the heat. I do apologize to the people I forget or the mistakes I make in my muddled brain. Then instead of heading home to the lake and an afternoon nap Burton and I went with friends on a bit of a road trip to celebrate the life of a dear friend with her husband , her son and daughter, their partners and  Cindy and Terry's two beautiful granddaughters. Cindy lost her life a year ago March  and in this  Covid altered world we had never gathered with the loved ones she left behind. What a blessing it was to do that today. What a blessing and what a reminder of what really matters in this life. Take each day, show up and love the life you are blessed to be living. Love your people and give back the best you can. Jump in the lake and gaze at the open sky. Be thankful for the gifts of each day and close the day with a joyful heart even if tears are streaming down your cheeks. 

Time, Seasons , Passages

Time, seasons, passages. I have just come from a beautiful hilltop garden overlooking the river. A Flower service they call it and it takes me back to my childhood when we gathered in Grey's Mills. Tiny Daisy Parks and her tall husband Joe would arrive as would many others for the annual service to remember those who had gone before. As a child I did not grasp the depth of the day or the scope of the emotion and reverence. I thought Daisy and Joe to be ancient and I was a bit puzzled by whole concept of the Flower Service. I saw tears , heard laughter and stories and felt connection while at the same time feeling puzzled and bothered by having to spend a summer's afternoon at church. Why was this such a big deal to everyone? Time , seasons, passages. The familiar words of Ecclesiastes read this morning  resonated deeply as did the words of Kate's message. I was exactly where God meant for me to be and my soul received comfort.  I feel overwhelmed by it all but feel a deep peace, awe and reverence. I took myself to today's flower service and was gifted an hour in a stunningly beautiful place , the vast sky above me , words and music and beating hearts gathered near granite headstones and the wide ribbon of dark blue water in the distance. I gazed at the white steeple and looked around at my contemporaries, my elders,  children and teens and felt connection and belonging. I got in line to take a blossom from the bucket to place in the Bouquet of Remembrance. I silently spoke the names on my mother , my father , my oldest son and whispered the names  Devin and Dylan. I remembered and gave witness to those who have gone on before and to my own mortality. I sat and broke bread , laughed , told stories and  recalled what I witnessed  when Daisy and Joe and many others gathered together on those July days of my childhood. Time , Seasons , Passages, and our place in it all. I do believe I understand it better now.

This is The Day

 It is a gorgeous July day. The sky a vibrant blue , the clouds fluffy white , the air warm with a perfect breeze. I am where I am on this beautiful day and for that I am grateful. Be in this day I remind myself, be present and allow the gifts of this one day to be enough. That is the philosophy I am attempting to embrace. In the recovery of my last year I have finally taken to heart truths I had been aware of and possibly even gave lip service too but never fully implemented. Many times a day I find myself reminding my brain to focus on this day only. The past I can not change, the future I can not control. It is this present day and my choice as to how I receive it that is all I have right now. Worry and guilt have been my constant companions and I am working hard to shed them both. In packing up my small space on Princess St and returning to the farm I have left many boxes unopened looking ahead to another move down the road (literally and figuratively)One of the boxes contains my journals and I have had to work through a bit of separation anxiety from them. I so often on a date spend time opening past journals and reading the entry from other years. A couple of times I have been tempted to search through the mess of packed boxes and containers I have stored in the bunkbed room so that I could have easy access to my many journals. I have stopped myself and this morning as I considered the topic of my blog entry it occurred to me that keeping them out of reach is a good exercise for staying in the present day. At this stage in my life there is a lot of water under the bridge. Seasons have come and gone with so many changes and adaptations. I am not opposed to looking back but sometimes the weight of it seems too much to carry into the present day. A lighter load seems better at this stage and while I treasure the past and anticipate the future, it is this day I celebrate. Now for a swim in my beautiful lake!