When I'm 82

My daughter doubles as my blog coach. She often gives me a nudge or reminder that it is time to write another entry. A few nights ago she woke up in the early hours and not being able to get back to sleep she began reading my blog from the beginning. She commented on the trajectory my entries have taken and observed their improvement over the years. Thinking back to when I started I am not even sure what my motivation was. I am a journal keeper and I guess at first it was just a different approach to journaling. I am not sure who I envisioned my readers being or what I thought they might get from reading my entries. I certainly saw it as a way to share my writing and highlight my work but I think it has become more than that. I have the goal in the back of my mind that after the publication of my tenth book I would like to compile some of the entries into a book. I have the title and the theme in mind. Asked to say what the theme of my blog is I might answer that being thankful ranks among the most obvious. I think too it is an attempt to be present in the day by day goings on , the seasons, the challenges, the joys and sorrows of life. I find it heartening that my daughter cares about this effort and actually looks forward to new entries thus encouraging me when there has not been one for awhile. I told her earlier today when she suggested I write one before heading out to her Alberta home and being away for a week that I would write one tonight and so that is what I am doing. Sitting down I did not know what it would be about. Sometimes I feel a pressing need to unload and find sense in things by writing on my blog.I put it on top of my list this early evening . The other items on the list have to do with getting ready to go away, relaxing and an early bedtime before catching an early morning flight. I spent the afternoon engaged in one of the most affirming activities I get to enjoy once a month. I have mentioned the 82 Moms in previous entries. The 82 Moms; a group made up of eight women connected by the fact they had babies in 1982. It was actually my daughter who named us and we claim the name proudly. This afternoon Penny started a story with the words" my boy who gave me entrance into the 82 Moms" to tell us something about her son. There was much discussion as there always is. So much wisdom and compassion in the room. Some similar experiences, similar worries and concerns. The bond is strong and supportive. We laughed today at the thought that someday the 82 Moms would be 82 and looking at the math of that know just how quickly the years to get us there will go by . Our 82 babies are turning 37 and we know none of us are likely to have another 37 years. But we had today. We sat and ate, we laughed, we shared, we gave each other encouragement and thoughtful advice.We parted giving each other good wishes for our plans in the month ahead. We set our date and place for April and anticipate our next get together.Just as our last 37 years went one day and one month at a time our next years will as well. I know that is not ground breaking news but I believe something worth reminding ourselves when we get caught up in our challenges and problems.Each day a gift and the love of friends and family the treasure!

Full Plate and Cup Overflowing

As I thought of my blog entry this morning dishes came to my mind.My best friend commented the other day that I had a lot on my plate.That is a funny saying when you think about it. I do love a buffet or a pot luck when one can fill a plate with a variety of food. Of the items chosen there are always the ones that exceed your expectations and those that don't.There is the sweet , the savory and the bitter. There are the foods you go back to for seconds and the ones you avoid.Full plates can be a positive thing , something to be very thankful for. But the saying means something else. A lot on our plate means we are dealing with many challenges, many areas requiring our attention and our energy.A full plate can mean we are stretched to our limits with cares and concerns , worries and responsibilities that seem to be heaped upon us. In that case my plate appears to be quite full these days. And for sure some of the things on my plate I would prefer that they not be there. Some I would load up again given the choice and some I would avoid.My full plate includes having my Dad staying with us for awhile as we determine his ability to live on his own. My heart breaks for this man who is strong, independent and stubborn. He is lonely and his vision is declining which limits and changes his ability to do the things he has always done.For the first time in his life he must give over some of his control and that is difficult to witness.And it is difficult to be the daughter trying to help him navigate this. I will not list the other challenges on this same plate but will say sometimes the plate is hard to carry and other times I can put it down. Now to the cup overflowing. For the last week or so I have been bursting with news I could not share. Last night I saw the news release and can now say that Headliner has been shortlisted for a New Brunswick Book Award in the Mrs. Dunster fiction category. What happy news for this New Brunswick author.I share this category with Meghan Rose Allen and the late Raymond Fraser. I am honored to be in such company. Congratulations to the other authors in the other categories. I look forward to the lead up to the May 25th ceremony and am pleased with the attention my seventh book will get. I also look forward to book number eight, Fear of Drowning coming out in May. I have yet to see the final cover draft and the interior before it goes to print but anticipate this next step in the process I've been lucky enough to experience seven times already. Spring is almost here. Snow and ice are melting and the sun is getting stronger. The earth waits beneath the snow and will be tilled and seeded. The lake waters wait beneath the ice and will welcome me again. These days will unfold ,the plate I carry will empty to hold other things and my cup will overflow with many blessings. For both dishes I am thankful.

A Heart Almost Bursting

Here I am siting at my desk on another Sunday morning. My mind and heart are bursting. The fullness is truly a mix of every emotion. I feel the sorrow , sadness and deep emotion of my Aunt Lois' Wednesday passing. Such deep sadness and a plethora of memory , gratitude and love flooded my brain the moment I got Joy's message. " Mom has passed". Oh boy those three words carry such enormous weight. I drove to Joy and John's home the next day and was privileged to be part of Jan, Joy and Julie's grieving journey of planning and processing. Yesterday the sun shone brightly and I had the pleasure of walking our wood road to the top of the hill allowing the last few days to settle into my soul. I also looked at the inventory of sorrow, loss, worry and concern I carried to the top of the hill. It did not disperse completely but I found a place for it and my burden was lighter on the walk down. This morning I am filled with a calm optimism even though the sadness I feel for several situations remains.Tomorrow we will drive to Moncton for my beloved aunt's funeral. I will stand beside my three cousins and my cousin's daughter and we will share words of love and memory. We will honor the life of Lois Ella (Wetmore) Faulkner. We will say goodbye knowing she is not really leaving us. Today I will write , I will cook , I will clean, I will take another healing walk and I will process all the joys and sorrows my life holds. My heart will burst, tears will flow and hope will bubble to the surface.I can think of no better way to use the gift of this day.

Same Old , Same Old

The title of today's blog entry does not sound very optimistic but in writing it I will attempt to find the joy and hope in it. I just read some of my past January and February entries and see the same experiences and the same thoughts that are on my mind and heart this morning.I have some of the same concerns and worries and look ahead to some of the same joys and blessings. I have spent the weekend alone while Burton traveled with a friend for an annual curling get away. I love the time alone but feel bogged down by it at the same time. I am housebound and have been given the gift of staying home. I sweep the floor again, make the bed again, put another load of laundry in the washer. I pour my morning cup of coffee into my favorite cup.The book I am working on is centered around the daily minutiae of the main character's life and I am struggling with how to make that captivating, interesting and important to the reader. Interesting challenge which seems parallel to today's introspection. How do I transcend the same old feeling that can sometimes seem like a deep rut? I take great comfort in the familiar; the daily writing in my journal, my list making , my walks and my simple joys.How do we truly pay attention and appreciate the day by day beauty of our lives, the same old same old? How do we show up and be thankful? I usually believe I know the answer to those questions. I usually am very content with the same old same old but I also recognize the discontent that sometimes seeps in.So today as the sun shines through my office window and the day stretches out ahead I will embrace it all. I will walk the wood road and look up at the vast sky, the same old sky, let my heart be full and choose happiness.

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.