Above is the link to memories about 1967 vis-a-vis Canada Day – I was in grade 3 and cute as a bug according to my Mom. Perhaps you will enjoy the read, I hope you will. Thank you for investigating.
Canada is a huge country and I am only this year really appreciating that after a trip halfway across to the Maritimes earlier this year.
What I am happy to share is the warm welcome from my east coast Canadians. Invariably they were interested in the reason for my trek there, and at all times I felt genuinely “at home”.
No country is perfect, but to me Canada must be close. The Canadian values of decency and understatement seem to be ingrained to most of us.
Home is where the heart is, and this is my home certainly and I am proud of Canada’s reputation worldwide.
I know that people are mostly the same everywhere. Each country has much to be proud of, and so it should be.
We all love our families, work hard at our jobs, and treat our fellow citizens with the respect that creates a better life for us all.
This is where I was born, in Canada, and I am glad to do my part to be a responsible and contributing part of it.
Peggy’s Cove was quiet the day we visited but the staff at the restaurant warmed us right up♥
Bruce walked down the path, just plain packed earth . The path wound through a light forest, absorbing his steps and so he moved silently.
Sunlight patches here and there were like stepping through hot wading pools at the ocean. All around him, birds twittering and squirrels chirps but none of this smashed the peace and calm of his surroundings.
It was moments like these that Bruce recharged upon. The serene peace in the forest somehow lifting his spirits effortlessly, calming his thoughts. As he moved along mindfully, he felt content and felt no urge to rush as he filled his lungs with the rich moist forest air.
It had been three years since the funeral, all the stages of grief just speed bumps in his past. The memories of moments shared now had no sting, or not much.
Isn’t it nice that we have the moments tucked away inside us, like an unlocked drawer of candy to slide open and indulge in.
Life only has one direction but even while moving ahead, he could still taste the sweetness of those days. Bruce felt deeply thankful for the memories, secure locked in his heart.
Funny the little moments that tweaked his face into a grin. When they had a flat tire in the rain and she defused the situation with a song and dance while he changed the tire.
Then there was the one time she came to his work in a gorilla suit and delivered flowers and sang “Dancing in the Rain” for his birthday.
He was completely embarrassed, but inside his heart sang, he was proud and he loved her for it. He felt his heart swell that she would do so much to show her love for him, and only him.
The way you wear your hat The way you sip your tea The memory of all that No, no they can’t take that away from me
The way your smile just beams The way you sing off key The way you haunt my dreams No, no they can’t take that away from me
Bruce left the path and sat down on a beach log to watch the waves, and ducks, always in pairs. With a deep sigh, after peeking around to check he was alone – he sang the well known song of Frank Sinatra named ” Can’t Take that Away from Me.”
The lyrics seemed to be saying exactly what he was thinking and exactly how he felt.
Recharged he rose and headed back to the car, feeling refreshed and smiling.
A little laugh on his lips. She loved the oldies, and let him sing in the car, no matter how flat and off key he was. He knew she was a prejudiced audience and praised his voice however he knew that outside of the car, and possibly the shower, that he should only sing for his own enjoyment.
But now it was time to mosey on, and so with a sigh, Bruce stood and paused to take a few breathes, and squared his shoulders. One last long slow breath.
He knew he can float through memory land again anytime because she is always right there,
Always just a breath away,
No, no he won’t forget the way she smiled just so.
The journey of life I am following, and that is similar to us all, has me at the stage where I have gained some perspective, and possibly a grain of experience that is earned via mistakes and grey hairs.
Unfortunately that means losses and gains. I have, as all of us have, lost people close to me and that I will not forget and I enjoy them still in my memories.
Gains are worth celebrating also, as today I celebrated a first. I celebrated picking cherries with my grandchildren from the tree I planted decades ago in our backyard.
Yesterday I smiled as I remembered this story…………….
In the early 1980’s I had the singular pleasure of working with my Dad every day for twelve years.
We were in different departments but the same building.
I was on the 11th floor, he was on the 6th floor and we could commute together to work and enjoy our coffee and lunch breaks together.
It enabled us to enjoy a lot of laughs and quality time for nearly 12 years despite him getting me to always use the stairs.
Looking back together we realize it was a gift of memories we were given.
Yesterday this story came to life from this time period came to me as I related it to my son.
THE GIFT
During the early 1980’s, my Dad and I worked in downtown Vancouver which is tall buildings, and concrete but also some shopping underneath some of buildings nearby.
One of the stores we would visit occasionally was a store that sold ties.
My office attire required a tie and so I did develop a collection of ties, as did my Dad.
This lead to the gift, which didn’t turn out the way I expected, not at all.
Something to know about my parents. My parents enjoyed humor, jokes, pranks and family dinners could lead to jokes that lead to rib holding, tear invoking laughter. (A special pleasure indeed).
One year leading up to my Dad’s birthday in the autumn, I happened upon a grotesque tie, hideous because it’s colour and patterns. The tie was completely, and entirely unwearable with any sort of suit or shirt. It was in a class by itself, possibly a sin to wear.
So, of course I bought it.
Then I purchased a silk tie from the tie store in downtown Vancouver, and obtained a gift box and bow. (play the suspenseful lead up music from Jaws)
My plan was to wrap up the ugly tie in the box, and add the bow and present it to my Dad. I couldn’t wait for the reaction from my Dad.
I remember it was autumn and I visited my Dad at his home and Mom was peering over his shoulder to watch. It was all a surprise for her also.
Dad opened the box, and never blinked ! But my Mom did! She didn’t get it was a joke and was pointing at the tie, laughing and then trying to pretend she wasn’t laughing.
Dad got it right away I think, but kept a straight face and played along. He was admiring the tie, and complimenting me on my good taste, my excellent choice, my keen eye for style!
“Is it silk or bamboo?”
Mom, meanwhile, was bursting, because she thought Dad liked the tie, and she thought I had picked it seriously. But the tie was almost repulsive ! She didn’t know what to do, and was pointing at the tie –
“look at it! Look at it!”
It was like it fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down.
It was so ugly it would make a freight train take a dirt road!
You get the picture (smile).
Finally, having ainw sympathy for Mom who was stifling her laughter, I presented Dad with the real gift tie. (A nice tie, but completely forgotten now.)
My dear friends, and readers; I told you all that to remind you to enjoy the moments, the stories that life leaves us.
It will be the ordinary times, the times of laughter and not fine dining that will live on, and be remembered and passed on.
Google picture – sometimes you have to dive in
My Mom passed in June 2018 but I remember her well, her laughter and her huge love for her family stand out.
I am grateful for the stories that survive and that I can pass on about her ability to laugh, and the gift I had to be her son.
Today was a beautiful day, too nice of a spring day to stay indoors and so my son and I headed out for a bike ride. The clouds ominously hung on the edge of valley, hinting they held rain and it was a few minutes away.
Regardless of the threat of rain, we headed out on a short ride to the south end of town. A mere ten minute lazy ride away was the lakeshore, benches and the wind would be behind us as we went there. Who can resist the wind at their back?
It was too tempting to resist, clouds or not – so we went. The wind was gusty but behind us so, of course, no wind noise but we knew that on the return (the flip flop as the CB radio truckers would say) we would face the wind, and the noise would be in our ears.
Sudbury beach @ Skaha lake
We arrived at the lake, and it was like glass, similar to the photo above.
Wind direction effects the waves on the lake. Today at the north end of town and the other lake, the Okanagan, it was probably choppy but at Skaha where we were; it was calm and beautiful.
We put the bikes on their stands, and dismounted. Time to relax and sit on a bench – maybe it’s always time to sit by a lake on a bench. Maybe it should be prescribed.
Soon the clouds passed, the rain at the south end of the lake seemed to dissipate and the tree branches high along the lakeshore stopped swaying.
Change was literally, in the wind and it reversed direction.
Once again I was blessed to have the wind at my back but now on the return trip.
As I rode home though I had to smile to myself. A fairly typical valley day today because my city is in a valley that runs north and south. First the wind is from the north during the first half of the day, and then about 3 pm the wind shift and the wind from the south.
Before my retirement, it was a joke but also true that nearly daily that I faced the wind coming and going when I rode my bike to work. My work was at the north end of the city AND SO in the morning I rode against the wind to work, and then when I got off work at 4:30 the wind had shifted and I rode facing the wind on the way home.
I am not complaining, I am smiling as I write this. Riding to work was a treat I felt privileged to do.
a little cold air never stops us
W
As I rode home today I contemplated how the wind, like much of life is uncontrollable. Sometimes it at our back, sometimes it shifts in our favour and sometimes not.
In life, you and I both have learned sometimes to do what sailors do, and that is to tack against the wind; doing the best we can under uncontrollable circumstances.
One thing about facing the wind that I appreciate, and that is how alive I feel.
I imagine you have felt the feeling of the wind in your face. Going fast outside on a bike, or skiing. The wind pushes at you and yet you overcome and it can’t hold you back.
No matter which way the wind blows for you this weekend, I hope you can adjust your sails and enjoy the ride.
I’m happy to say that “any rumours of my demise are greatly exaggerated” which is a complete theft from Mark Twain.
Hello, I hope you are enjoying your day.
Thank you reading today and for reading my past posts. I began this blog to see if I could do a blog and gratefully I found friends in the blog world who read my posts and so I continued. I never meant to take a break, but life intervened and then I found myself having “cold feet” per se about what to say to you.
My blog has a number of different categories and I tried to make it meaningful to you, the readers. I thought that a blog must have something of worth for the readers.
I think there is part of me that wants to keep trying new ways to be creative, and challenge myself. I have always been trying things and I recommend it to everyone. Yoga, tai chi, 10 km running, and more.
The world isn’t static, our lives are changing so let’s keep learning and challenging ourselves. What are you doing now to challenge yourself?
I have continued as a Toastmaster but I have added new elements to my routine like making jewelry, and I am taking online educational courses albeit only spending a short time each day.
I have resumed a routine of regular reading to focus myself, I found that social media was destroying that ability I used to have of being swallowed by a book and speaking of books, and reading….
The last words (almost) of the book, Three Against the Wilderness that I finished reading today are:
Something attempted, something done.”
It’s was a succinct ending to the book that perfectly summed up a 30 year biography of a fur trapper in the British Columbia (BC) wilderness.
That ending and quote certainly reflects also the part of me that want to stay active.
The wilderness was truly wilderness in the 1920’s when Eric Collier arrived in BC. Eric and his wife Lillian set out where there was barely a trail with a wagon, tools, and two pack horses to build a one room cabin and survive on their own.
Now, and after having spent five long days in the saddle, skirting the edges of the marshes and following the deer paths through the forest, and in all that time glimpsing no other furbearer’s track except those of the coyotes (their tracks were everywhere, I summed it all up by declaring,
“It’s hopeless.”
Lillian was staring into the flames of the campfire. With a sudden impulse, she looked up at my face and said quietly,
“Eric, I never want to hear you say that word ‘hopeless’ again.
We may not have much of anything here in this wilderness.
But the one thing that we’ll always have plenty of is ‘hope.'”
I was fortunate to find a copy of this book but it has been printed at least eleven times. It must be a classic because when I went to a used book store, they knew at once what I sought.
My copy is signed by a previous owner in 1970. I don’t know how many people have read and shared this book, as I surely will. It has at least 56 years worth of appreciative readers.
Eric Collier wrote this single book, printed in 1962.
It contains his story that he concluded so succinctly.
Perhaps you will be fortunate enough to find a copy to read for yourself. ♣
This is not…
This is not a “check in” like you may have received at Christmas time wherein I will list the places I have visited, trips taken and so on.
I wanted today to let anyone wondering about me that I have not forgotten about my blog, but time has slipped away as I have diversified so I don’t sit at the desk as much.
I am doing my best to be healthy, and enjoy my priceless gift of being born.
I celebrated being SEVEN this year.
I celebrated in April of this year my seventh anniversary of my kidney transplant with dear grandson and granddaughter.
When I woke up in Vancouver General hospital more than seven years ago I had no inkling that I had such a wonderful job ahead of me being a “Pop Pop”♥
There is nothing like the eyes of a child who is happy that you are there.
Another gift that my kidney donor gave me.
I am daily a grateful person.
If I fall behind in posts again, please imagine me riding my bike, or reading to my grandkids” .
I value your encouraging words, and thank you for your blogs, and inspiration.
Life and Random Thinking 