Sunny Days -FALL

Sunshine all weekend; how wonderful is that? We tried to take advantage of the good weather and soak up as much vitamin D as we could. We raked leaves and went for a walk on Friday, got pictures taken at Westminster Ponds on Saturday and went to Apple Land Station to frolic at the sand hill and pick the last of the apples today. I was very glad to have so much beautiful weather to appreciate after a crummy previous week. Perhaps our Indian Summer(What a funny phrase. Here's hoping the kids will sleep well for all the fresh air. Hopefully me too! Maybe my brain will be kind and leave me alone to sleep tonight. Fingers crossed. For all the joys, my brain still manages to churn when I go to bed. We all have our demons that plague us don't we?

Thank You

I want to offer thanks. Thanks to the sunshine and thanks to the trees. Thanks to the colourful leaves that litter my front lawn and the forest floors. Thanks to nap time and play time. Thanks to Laura for taking portraits for us today and thanks to the teenager who got our meal right at McDonalds afterwards. Thanks to my Mother, sister and neighbours for being there to listen when I need it. Thanks to Corrie for being there to read my thoughts when they spring forth from me. :)

And a big thank you to me for being here to enjoy it all...
Welcome Fall

In the moment

On a cool day like today, I did what felt right. I went shopping. I should have raked leaves in the front yard, as it is yard waste week and they have not been by yet, but that did not happen. Nope, I went shopping. I bought rump roast and raspberries, sand paper and metal paint, a cruet set and crystal condiment bowl, running shoes for R and a birthday present for Mc. Whew! There was more in my bags when I returned home, but I am sure that you do not care. I will probably not care when I read over this later. I had a good day though. I visited my new favourite farmer at the farmer's market downtown. I slowly perused the antique market on the edge of town. I subjected my self to a Walmart Superstore. It was all good. A simple day. In the moment, with brain shut off to other thoughts. What a good practice. Topped off with pizza and a movie. A glorious day!

Wednesday - Yoga for the soul

I went to do the last of my gardening for Michelle today. I really did not do too terribly much out in the garden, to be fair, but its immediate need was winding to a close. The frost in the air has signalled the end of active gardening for the season. The outside world tasks change to leaf raking, putting away of hoses and garden ornaments, planting spring bulbs and pulling up summer ones. My season of gardening is done.

It is a heavy feel. I made a difference for Michelle and offered what I could. She appreciated the help. It was a precious gift. So where do I go from here? I have been watching Murray and feeling for him in his waning days with the love of his life. Now she is gone. Now he is alone and must accept that so that he can move on to the next stage of his life. It is nowhere near as easy to do as the writing of it may suggest. While I was visiting with Murray I kept on saying "This is hard work." It is the hardest work one could ever imagine having to do. It is physically, emotionally, socially, and psychologically exhausting. Anyone who has ever touched loss in an intimate way would probably have more to add to this, but for those who haven't it is a start. I have to stop though. This is Murray's journey. Murray must make this trek on his own. I am giving him emotions through my experience and that does not do him justice or ultimately myself. I was reminded this afternoon that I still need to take care of me. At two years into the loss of my beloved husband and partner, I was told I am still fresh in my grief. I still have far to go. How can that be?

Life is quite the journey with many lessons to learn. My lesson today was that I do matter. I mattered to Michelle for a brief while, so that she could savour her garden one last time. I mattered to Murray, so that I could give him more time with Michelle and sharing of stories both good and bad. I matter to Randolph, who seems to think that I am a worthy person and is happy to see that I am beginning to believe it. I matter to my children, who run with smiles and screaming "Mommy!" with joy when I come to pick them up from daycare. I know that I could add many more to the list and it is a good thing. The last person I will add today though is a woman who used to attend yoga with me over a year ago. She was recovering from cancer treatments and was doing well, but had other health concerns at the time. She started into my class again today. After class she walked over to me and asked when we had seen each other last. I was reminded again of how I touch people as she shared that she had gone through another bout of cancer completely unrelated to the first. She more or less pushed and diagnosed some of it herself. She knew something was wrong with her and praised yoga and its ability to get oneself in touch with one's body as helping her to do this. Whether she believed in the benefits of yoga before, she overwhelming believes know. And she walked over to me and had to share her story with me. I know her, but only through once a week yoga from over a year ago. It touched me that she felt the need to share with me. I must mean something to her too. Not the world, but just a little piece of it. It makes me smile. It is good.

Thanksgiving

What profound things can I come up with tonight? The passing of the turkey gauntlet perhaps? Yes, my sister spoke it aloud and my Mother subtly agreed. We are being groomed for the next generation of responsible adults. Now that we have children of our own, my Mother figured she would suggest my sister put on Thanksgiving dinner. I offered to come help put it all together, which sissy agreed to. So the girls and I arrived at Aunt K's house Saturday for a leisurely Saturday afternoon/evening. We took the kids to the park Sunday morning before we got into dinner prep too heavy, then got down and dirty. Lunch done and kids dispersed and turkey showdown 2009 began.

Sissy sauntered up to the bird, warming up to the task at hand. A little water to rinse it, make everyone more comfortable, then before you could blink her hand was shoved into its vast cavity. The neck removed, she held it open so I could fill the hole. To appease relatives not even dining with us for the meal, I concocted dressing and stuffed the turkey full. Task done, Sissy soothed the poor birds ruffled (feathers? nope gone already) by greasing it up with oil. Lowering our sacrificial bird into the tray, the oven door beckoned and the roasting began. Much basting ensued, while other vegetables were prepared. My Mother and step-father arrived and while offered drinks, were relegated to the role of guest. My Mom desperately tried to get into the kitchen to peek at the turkey or help with anything she could "do you want me to make the gravy?". Her advances were repulsed and she was relegated to kid-duty. Chagrined on the outside (I am sure she was in her glory, despite her inability to let go of control), she accepted her fate.

With sparkling brand new gloves I approached the oven. This was the moment, I am sure my Aunt missed most. I know Brad watched probably laughing and shaking his head while sucking on a beer. He would have been pleased to have someone else take control, but always enjoyed something done right. The kitchen was his domain and he did it all right. So I stood by with gloves on, watching as Auntie K pulled the turkey out of the oven. It was my time to shine. The bird was glistening and brown. It was time. I stepped forward, reached in and flipped the bird. And it was good. I felt Brad smile.

The turkey browned a little longer as we chatted and sipped on Caesars. Food called, so work resumed. While potatoes were mashed, I returned to my bird. While letting it rest, I sharpened all of Sissy's knives, searching for the heft I desired. Making my choice, I turned to the turkey. Again I asked for Brad's divine intervention. The carving was done by my hand and it too was good. More smiles from my erstwhile teacher. The meal was served and grace was said. Uncle A fell into soup making, even before the last bite was taken. Homemade pies graced the table. Kids were sent to bed. We breathed and relaxed and gave thanks for family. Cards were played, drinks were sipped and conversation flowed. Congratulations to a meal well made and well received. Sissy survived her first turkey feast. Happy Thanksgiving!