It has been a painful journey lately as my dad struggles with his journey with dialysis. His kidneys are failing him. One is done like toast (I need humour at this point) and the other….well lets just say the percentage count of the second kidney’s function is not that high. Oh how did life get so yucky.

Not being in proximity, it is harder to read or listen to my sister sharing the news of dad. And then me old dad gets on video chat with me to ‘see’ him and ‘hear’ him. Thank the Lord his humour has not left him. Bless your heart dad as he sits in his comfy chair in a blanket and sweater….summer time. What in the name of all that’s holy!! I try to make light of it but he is feeling chills and so tired. That is not my dad.

The thing is my dad wants to go. He is tired of this life lived. He says, ” I did not sign up for this.” Choking back my tears I say, “love you dad.” It is difficult to hear that he has had enough. He is a doer, a kick you in the butt, get up and go kind of man. No nonsense in his approach to life. Just git er done. But with his wife of 65 years in a nursing home now….who has been at his side through thick and thin – yeah dad lots of thick with you. LOL. Not kidding. I think that is the icing on the cake. Why hang around?

Never in a million years would I have imagined my folks being in the state they are in with health. Mom in a wheel chair, seemingly more child like over the last few months, and sleeping. All of a sudden eyes close and no Dad cognitively and physically knows what is going on with him, even though now he finds it hard to keep track of dates and times for appointments. I remember he would make fun of his folks, my grandparents, as they get out the long pill box identified in the daily dose of coloured pills for this and that and this again. And yet he found himself doing the same thing.

It reminds me of his own dad and two conversations that have stuck with dad over the years. One that my dad brings up time and time again, especially in the last couple of years. The two of them were sitting outside in two comfy chairs out back under a tree at my folks country store, chatting away, shooting the breeze. My grandpa turned to my dad and said out of the blue he wanted to leave. And dad said to him “well the car is tanked up so where do you want to go.” Grandpa said, “No. No. I want to leave. I do not like where things are going. How things in this world are working. Do not want to be a part of it. Just tired.” And dad kind of looked at him and then dad being my dad, he laughed it off and said, “you got lots left in you old man. Legs are good better than mine.”

But a few years ago, my dad tells me he was sitting out back on his own porch, finding himself saying almost the exact same thing aloud. He was thinking about his life and what was going on, finding that he was not liking how things were turning out in the country and around the world. He had enough. Dad said he almost shot up from his chair shocked as he remembered his chat with his own father.

Hey dad, like father like son!!

But the other one that sticks in my head is when my dad was on his way to the nursing home to see his dad. The weather was terrible, cold and blustery but he wanted to see his dad. While visiting my grandpa asked dad to take him home. He wanted to get out of there. I certainly get that. But dad said it was too stormy out there. In my grandpa’s way he let my dad know that he thought it was an excuse. Another time maybe. What could dad do?

My grandpa passed away a few days later.

Dad has told me that story many a time over the past few years. It still sits with him and a story I am not going to forget either of a lesson in life. We do not know what we do not know, do we?

Dignity. It is a beautiful word and one in which I have pondered many a time. To give to another person a sense of worth for themselves, to be heard, valued, respected. Do I do that for others? Oh I hope so. And if I do not or have not, oh my….that’s on me. And I am sorry. Regardless of one’s circumstance whether be ill, poor, hurt, or incapacitated, the person exists. Dignity is life. Dignity should be life-giving in whatever way that looks like. And not just to human life but creation as well…giving the respect and value of what is precious…our living world.

Right now giving dignity to my dad and my mom. What does that look like and sound like and feel like for them? Dad is cognizant and for mom, I am not sure what her sense would be now. But I do know that they deserve the dignity of being human. Treated in whatever way, beautifully wrapped in self worth.

I pray for my parents, and those others who are suffering in whatever way, on this day as you are invaluable and worthy of respect. Blessings.

Let us pray for those who are in need of our prayers. Peace.

I have to say that I received a lovely package in the mail a few days ago from a special person in my life. In it, there were some lovely pieces of reading material. What a surprise to receive! I am not used to receiving things just for me and I do not accept gifts with much grace. Ergo having a chat with the said person earlier as he had asked me did I go to the post office recently. Me saying to him, “what did you do now?” Man, can I make it more uncomfortable for the giver who was just trying to be kind. Yes I could and should. But the woulda shoulda coulda….well keep my mouth shut and just say THANK YOU. My bad once again. It is humbling to say the least when you face your own quirks and burps of self.

I know that is an area I have a bit of difficulty with. I tend to be a giver and not so much a receiver. It does make me uncomfortable when I think about it in that I am so not used to receiving gifts, even compliments or kudos for that matter. LOL. I tend to brush it off or ‘hide’ myself behind my quiet. Yet, I am a paradox in that I would do my very best to build another person up, find a little something to give to person to show I am thinking of them at this time, let them know they are great or in some way I care about them as a person. Kindness matters. So what’s up with me?!

It probably stems from my childhood upbringing of being made aware that one should be selfless, give to others like your shirt off your back, don’t expect anything as you have to work hard for whatever you get, be happy with what you have. Then later on in my adult life, the impact of experiencing too many times to count a daily ‘sticks and stones’ of feeling less than less or if given something, there is a reason behind it. So I probably overcompensate in trying to make sure no one that I come across, will hopefully not feel that from me. Unfortunately, if you hear or feel something enough you begin to believe it. Life lessons can suck big time. Once again, kindness matters.

Which leads to this one book that I found in the package. It is entitled The Choice by OG Mandino. I am wondering if I have read some quotes from his works at times but did not pay attention to the author’s name. His thoughts speak to me in such a deep and profound way. What a read!! A keeper!! I am going to have to reread it a few times which thankfully it is only 162 pages in length. Being a hoarder of words, I think this is one of those finds with keeper quotes to live by or at least resonate with my heart big time. I loved the opening line “The only calendar I need is just outside my window.” Wow!

Words, especially written words, have always been powerful for me. Not to say that I am not moved by the oral word but my brain forgets it too quickly. That is one thing about attending Mass for example and it is a bug-a-boo with me. The homily will be so inspiring with wisdom and hope but do you think I can remember even the gist of it. I like to write down what I hear which of course is not a practice in Mass. Thinking of Jesus in the Jerusalem finding merchants doing in business in the sacred space and he over turns the tables. Yikes! Probably frowned upon as onlookers would look at me and think….well I do not know what they would think. But I confess now, I have done it a few times. Oops! Forgive me Father for I have sinned. No offence Father as Your earthly messenger did a good job of reaching and opening my ear passages. Oh for merciful love.

Anyway I am way off the beaten path of my thoughts. Choice. Such a noble word. The connotation can be both quite exciting and frightening at the same time. It is something that has been given to us freely and I think truly to not be taken lightly either. Of course, we make hundreds of choices daily with little thought except exasperation or grumbling like “do I have to?” And over the course of a lifetime, too many to count. And yet we make them regularly. Do I stick my nose out of my blanket and put my feel on the floor today? Do I want latte or decaf (neither one for me)? Do I really want to go into work or pretend to be sick? (who has done that?) Do I pretend that my name is not mom or mommy or mama or Karen or Rara? Do I…..? Endless stream of the do’s and have to’s and must do’s.

But there are some choices that are gulps, swallowing hard, life changing, beyond comprehension decisions. Decisions that cannot be made lightly nor happily. Although, I should not say that, as happily is subjective. There is no objective about it especially when it is so personal. I think of my sister and dad who had to make a choice back when Covid 19 first began; deciding that mom needed 24 hour care as she was not safe for herself or for others. Never mind how it was made and the thoughtful research of finding a place that would be ‘good’ for mom. Home is always the best but not necessarily the choice in the long run. Gulp. That choice has changed the direction and course of their lives. The health of all and the need of each person in that household had to be considered. In many ways, it has brought a family closer and the gatherings though brief are memorable.

As I read this particular book, the author certainly knew how to keep me in suspense. He knows the nuance of touching the heart, deep within, at least for me. Juggling and jostling my heart chords to spring and take note. A larger image came to the forefront of my mind connecting to his opening line because it reminded me to ask myself of how I live my life. How I choose to live my life. There in front of me as I too look out my window is a cloudy with a forecast of cloudy cool day again. I do not need a another calendar to say what kind of day it is going to be….for it is going to be a day. It is going to be a day filled with choices. And I will make choices, sometimes rightly and other times wrongly.

But looking outside, I know that I am not going out in a T-shirt and shorts. I am going to put on warmer clothes. Be sensible. I also know that at some point I will need to get groceries (growling tummy and grandkids coming this weekend which means treats in the kid cupboard), rake the lawn (need gloves), dig the garden (rubber boots? No work boots), its Thursday so compost or garbage day (look it up on calendar LOL and get out ), take a walk along the lane (Fiona hurricane last fall did some good damage to the trees on property), get the crossbow saw (be careful Karen you are not so nimble and handy dandy as before). And I just looked outside and all this came to mind.

I could choose to be grrring as I see another day of cloud and cool and gloomy feeling. Or I could choose to see the delight of great things are happening all around. I could look at the forecast of another area in Canada or I can say….it is not snow. It is not Fiona. It is not a tornado. Choice. How to see the silver lining or the sacramental moment in the ordinary with eyes turning to wonder as retreat leader used to say.

Sometimes the choice is taken away from us. In this particular case, the choice was beyond comprehension, a test of true self. Whew! Humbling. Blessings today.

Let us pray for those who are in need of our prayers today. And for those choices made in life. Amen

It has been a long time but here I am. I crossed the bridge, literally, and found my way back home. Home, a place I want to be. I am not sure one appreciates one’s home until it is gone. For me, suitcase living is okay for a bit but holy moly, country road, take me home. Please. You gotta love that John Denver tune as he belts out the words on his old guitar. I feel for those who have lost their home, whether by tragedy, natural or from the injustices of the hands of man; or those unexpected circumstances beyond one’s knowing like my mom now in a nursing home; or for those in our communities who find themselves homeless. I get it in a wee small way of what that could mean and I pray for all who wander to find a pillow to lay their weary head.

It brings me back to a memory of a school assembly I attended. I taught at Sacred Heart Catholic Elementary and it was a gathering of students, staff and some parents in the gymnasium during the beginning of Lent where we listened to the keynote speaker, Murray Dryden whose father was Ken Dryden the hockey player, He stood before us talking of this non-profit organization he was involved with Sleeping Children Around the World, an organization that fundraises to buy sleeping kits for children in third world countries. Kits that contain a bed roll/mattress, hygiene stuff, clothing, and school supplies.

The way he weaved one of his many stories and accounts of the joy brought to so many children as he and his team personally delivered these bed kits to those children, conveying to us, his audience, that not all children have a place to lay their head at night. I can still see the visual image he showed of one young boy, receiving his bed kit. He unrolls it right there and then, falls upon it in the middle of a dirt path lane and wraps himself up under the bedding. Can you imagine! No. I do not know what that is like. And in that regard, I am so very grateful and thankful to be able to have a space and place to call my own.

You do not realize the comfy (or maybe not) of one’s bed. LOL. I love it. Aahh. So here I find myself back home amongst all that is familiar. Goodness, I miss my space. All of my senses are on high alert. I think I must be part dog hound as I poked my head in and around and under and over wherever, checking to see if its all good. Whew! Smells like Bounce sheets and moth balls. Yep. Ah the aroma of Peppy Le Pew! Laundry and Mr. Clean, hear me roar!

I pray no one takes offence like my youngest granddaughter, daughters, parents, siblings, relatives or friends but yippee do dah and colour me happy….it is Tony the Tiger Grrrreat! I think the biggest thing for me is I can tinker and putter and do whatever in and to my own home. When I visit, I do not like to remain idle for too long. But I can’t just get into their cupboards or take their mop or start to reorganize (so close to purging – oops) their things without stepping on toes. Oh yes eldest daughter, I know you let me. Thanks. But I do realize even at her place, it is not mine to do that to. Of course, if you want to grab a broom or vacuum or dish cloth at my place, go for it. Nah. It’s all good.

I enjoy the physical aspect of cleaning. It does not require much thought, just dig in. Purging is my mantra. It really is true about what they say of spring. Refresh, renew, revitalize. I mean the stuff one accumulates over a period of a year or many years. Well if you have not used it, opened it, dusted it off then maybe it is time to close your eyes and pitch it. Yep. But for goodness sake, don’t be going down memory lane when you come across that old yearbook or that hole-ridden university sweatshirt that does not fit anyway. What are you doing!!! Aha. And don’t think reshuffling stuff and making it look organized in the closet (which is kind of smart thinking) is getting rid of stuff. Or the trick of maybe moving stuff from closet to the coffee table and then take a nap. LOL. I know. I know. Spring cleaning never killed anybody so do not say “why take the chance”? This is not a roundtoit thing. Just do it. Haha. FYI. I am not too thrilled about seeing little droppings in the recycling bin area just outside on my deck. Little devils. Hmmmm. It looks like mice doo doos. Yikes! But no sightings inside my home. Thank the Lord for small mercies.

Anyway, home sweet home. I’m here. Delighted and ready for the welcome mat of my own making. Yep. Painting needs to happen. Cleaning the shed out. Dump run. And yard work. I wish my mom and dad gave me their green thumb. Oh well. My granddaughter wants pink flowers and by golly I am going to grow them with her. Well maybe try. She will never know if I get the pink plants already grown and put them in once I realize my green thumb is more brown in nature. Which reminds me I need grass seed for the lawn and fertilizer. And did I say the garden needs a bit of TLC. Ummm. I think I need to go to the experts…Pinterest. Or maybe Youtube. Oops, I forgot that I may need to look at lane as the ruts are kind of deep on my clay drive. Not sure tractor dragging will level it out. Did I say that being home is great? Yes, I did.

Stepping out on the deck, smelling the fresh air, seeing the clothes whipping around on the clothes line, and hearing the subtle quiet brrr of the wind, I’m home. The birds are really nattering and having a hey day on the lawn right now. I have not even put the seed out as the snow just left yesterday after the rain and lawn rolled. Woohoo.

So today I begin another day, doing my home. What do I get to do next? Who knows but it is home sweet home. And even more so the land and sea close too. The familiar of it all. Gratefully, I already took a walk down to the water and up along the red cliffs, taking in the wide expanse of sea before my eyes. The waves crashing in to the shore while the sun heralds its rays across the waves, cliffs, fields and the old worn tractor trail had me pause. I noticed that the rocky shore has taken a beating over the winter especially after the ferociousness of Hurricane Fiona last fall as well. The rocky shore is really rocky now, shifting some of the huge boulders to a different position. Beach is lined with rock more than sand. Wow! And the trek on the rocks to climb the side of the cliff to get to top and continue my walk. Well it has changed greatly. Huge boulders that I had to leap from one to another have been shifted. Why I know that, I am not sure. I guess it is like home, familiar; the nuances of space and place.

It’s home. Blessings.

Let us pray for those who are in need of prayers and for those who look to find a place for their weary head to rest. Amen.

Tomorrow is not promised. That has been sitting with me for a couple of months as I came across it in an old Clint Eastwood movie Absolute Power. Good movie by the way. I think he said in it “tomorrow’s not promised to no one.” It goes back to the importance to me in being present. How today is a gift and tomorrow is not promised. I think Scripture has it as well. Maybe it is the circumstances of people’s lives that come to fore lately of loss, pain, suffering intertwined with joy, celebration, glee. How in the world does a person juggle such paradoxes bespoken in their life!!? There are no answers but only more questions. I guess if we can live in the paradox, be okay with the unknown, and allow self to know you are not alone can bring some solace to the weary heart. I am grateful to have God in my life as my faith navigates the worn and at times uncertain paths I’m on. Yet, there are some days when I do not want only God to know as I could have done without that particular situation. Sheesh. LOL.

Ah laughter, the fruit that bears witness to jostling this ol’ heart. I so like to laugh and smile alot. Right now I can hear my youngest granddaughter get up from her sleep, awakened by her mom. She is giggling a bit. The joy in my heart right now is that yesterday her mommy bought her, her first EVER bed. A double bed!! Yes this tiny three-year old has a double because mommy is tired of sleeping on the hard floor beside her crib when she had a nightmare. Now mommy and daughter can weather out another storm so to speak in comfort. But that little girl makes me laugh so hard (and grrr too). Just saying.

One thing I like to hold on to are quotes or sayings that seem to be a balm for me in the chaos of daily living. You know those catchy one liners that jolt you or cause you to pause in mid step. I tend to find myself gravitate to sayings or mantras of thought which then seem to find their way into my outward communication to those I cross paths with. It may not be deep or profound but it is what I have to offer up in the moment. One that I do not think will leave me is the notion that ‘life is precious’. I must say it at least once a day since forever. Because it is precious, the life we are given and you don’t know what the morrow brings to you. Which goes to another phrase which reminds me of the children’s book The Little Engine that Could spouting out, “I think I can. I think I can.” Imagine that image of going uphill in a little put put effort in a train, huffing and puffing!! Yet, it does make it and for me, I can imagine that because in my life I want to live like I can. Making the most of each day while I can still do whatever.

No I am not quite over the hill as my daughters so kindly remind me often. No I do not need Depends. No I do not need little pills. No I do not need my ears cleared. Har har har. But the lesson in the making fun of me is that one does not know what is in store regardless of age, stature, race, sex, culture and so forth. So does one make lemonade out of lemons, the silver lining in real life journeys? Do I look at each day as a gift to be embraced, fully lived, with whomever and whatever I am doing. Do I try at least to give it ago. There is already enough of in our daily journeys that we do not ask for, want or see coming but nevertheless, come anyway, as God only knows. Aha. Oops. Caught me. Yes, and in the ‘enough already’ parts there are mantras like this too shall pass and it does. Sucks to be you but it’s all good really. Hard pill to swallow yet you go this. Ying to the yang.

I have a saying that I say to my dad since I was in my early 20’s. I think I notice it more now than ever before. My dad is a talker. I mean a real talker when you sit down and don’t bother moving for a long time. He can tell a story which reminds him of another and then another. Initially, it would be me sitting at the dining table ( and I love my dining table) as a teenager and having to listen to those long long long lectures about what not to do, who not to hang with, what to wear, how to behave. You know the yada yada yada. Sorry dad. Just as an FYI dad, they stuck those mini multiple lectures to live by. Then later on as I got older, mom/wife/educator I began to appreciate dad’s witty sly humour in the stories he told from days of old. But you want to put him on pause so that I can visit mom or siblings. Or go to the bathroom. Then as the years have gone on, he has been more focused on the stories (which I could say in my sleep now with all respect to my dad) that have ticked him off whether it was his career, politics, government, finances, earlier decisions. The woulda, shoulda, coulda phase I am thinking. Yet in all that, what I would say to dad in those heartfelt, time-consuming, detailed stories of his life was “shoot me now dad”. Yep. Loving daughter. Right?? Disrespect all the way. LOL.

Yes that is my loving mantra to my dad for many years. He laughs and laughs because he knows he is a talker. Of course, Dad being dad would say things that would get my goat or so off base to my way of thinking. I am not into conflict or making disrespectful comments. But there are times when you just have to say it like it is. LOL. So using dad’s form of humour on him, that would be my response and it gets him going. Side-tracked. So my work is done.

Although now, my heart is full of tears because he sits more and more when I visit. The chair beside him which was my mom’s and no longer has her in it, I sit there expecting ‘same old same old’ and it is not happening. I had noticed a few months ago that some of his favourite stories were missing pieces which I would gently add and get him back on track so to speak. Oh my. But now, I find he sits back with his feet up in the electric lazy-boy chair, more watching than talking. There is a narrowness about him that has never been there before. He finds most things an effort, giving over it seems to the nuances of struggling with his age, his health issues, his wife in a home, not being able to do what he used to be able to do, regrets…while sitting mostly or eating or visiting mom. Hanging on. Thats not my dad.

So tomorrow is not promised. It really is not. Today. That is what I have. Oh to know in my heart that I know this to be. Blessings.

Let us pray for those whom are in need of our prayers today and for those who need strength and courage of God’s healing abiding love. Amen.

Silver Linings today.

Every cloud has a silver lining.

April showers do bring May flowers.

French saying “after the rain, the good weather.”

German saying “if the day wasn’t your friend, then it was your teacher.”

Turn your face to the sun for the shadows fall behind you. In other words, look on the bright side.

Times are not always the same; the grass is not always greener.

More silver lining quotes;

There is a crack in everything, that is how the light gets in. Leonard Cohen

There are always flowers for those who want to see them. Henri Matisse

I am thankful for my struggle because without it, I wouldn’t have stumbled upon my strength. Alexandra Elle

Sometimes when falling apart, they may actually be falling into place. J Yuu

The broken will always be able to love harder than most. Once you have been in the dark you learn to appreciate everything that shines. Zachary K. Douglas

Remember sometimes when you do not get what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck. Dalai Lama

Only in the darkness can you see the stars. Martin Luther King Jr.

There is something about walking in the neighbourhood right now that I begin to sense a change. Can it be that spring has sprung?? Not to say the big snow flakes that befell yesterday did not exist because they DID! Grrr. But, aaah, I did feel something as I ducked in and out quickly in my sock feet without a coat and hat to put out recycling in the bins next to the house. It was a hint of warmth with less bite. Coupled with the symphony of more birds a chirping an’ a tweeting, albeit too early in the morn mind you for some (not me).

And if I stop to think for a moment, I have noticed there is a new aroma wafting in the breeze lately. It is sort of that fresh new dirt smell you get when farmers turn over the fields…musty, mucky, mire mix to make a raw garden fresh soil scent. I do realize that the fields have not been tilled as yet. So probably the smell is coming from the left over mildewed winter of old dead leaves, decayed something or other, and winter tired grass and earth but regardless, I noticed. Funnily enough, the smell is not pungent to my nasal passages as it brings back fond memories of the old cold cellar below my grandparents farmhouse. Something about going down those cobbled stone stairs, opening a creaky worn down wooden door, and entering the abyss of a dirt clad walled room, dank cold and dark. Well, I loved it. Not the spooky part for I would not want to be trapped in there but the smell. Not sure why because it was strong and kind of funky. Nah, earthy. Yes, I like that word earthy, a collective to all of my senses and knowing ones roots of working the land and its abundance of sustenance to one’s life.

But a big awareness has been with my feet on terra firma, nature or manmade, as I have taken walk recently. It is the curbs!!! They exist! I CAN SEE THEM!!! Praise the Lord. Hallelujah! (Yes, I know. It is still Lent but sometimes you just have to stray – sorry Lord). Anyway, I feel like that line in the song by Johnny Nash ” I can see clearly now” the curbs in the burbs are here!! Finally!! I can see the sidewalk straight ahead as I push the stroller with Maggie May it tow and cross up onto the curb without pushing through slush or climbing a mini mountain. Or God forbid tripping and falling because you do not know what you are going to step up or down. So yes, spring has sprung because the curbs in the burbs have come out.

Not sure what floats other peoples boats but one of mine comes springing to life at the entry of the firsts of seasonal transformations. So for now, spring is awaiting. It is the first time you can go walking without the winter mukluks or earmuffs afoot; when you put on a t-shirt without the shiver and goose bumps; the moment you see a green tuft working its way up through the barren soil; a glance above you, seeing little buds smattering the arm limbs of those oak trees arching across your lane; the honk honking of Canadian geese flying in typical V-formation overhead as chirpy tweeting reverberates in song, conducted in orchestra fashion; and finally to the gentle southern breeze wafting its warmth into the breath of fresh air taken in the morn.

Oh yes the remnants of winter linger on still but on closer inspection, put the senses into gear. The nose knows what the nose knows. For the chorus of birds singing do not tell a fib. I think it is the bluejays that kind of tell it like it is for some reason in the back of my memory. Maybe it was my grandfather or some wise person who told me one time if you watch the bluejays, they do not come out and stay until they know for sure food is a plenty for them. Sounds like some foodies I know. LOL. Anyway, I did notice a local farmer has tapped its red maple trees which must mean sap is a flowing.

Of course don’t forget the newly made potholes, falling icicle sticks overhead (watch out), cluttered debris, last time you have to pick up kicked over mailbox, no more replacement of kiddie mittens, the ‘honey do list’ is now active, mukluks to macky wear, antihistamine time, elevator song piped in to “Im singing in the rain”, weather cannot make up its mind from one day to the next, Peppy Le Pew is on a rollaroma, muckity squishy walks, and best of all driving with window down – wheeeeee! So roll down the window, see the curbs, breathe in and out fully, and enjoy the hope of spring in the air. Blessings.

Let us pray for those whom are in need of our prayers this day. Amen.

PS. I found some spring humour. Chuckle or two. Hahaha

My winter fat is gone. Now I have spring rolls.

I hate spring cleaning. Darn things bounce all over the place.

Why is spring a good time to get into good habits? It’s the perfect time to turn a new leaf.

What month always asks questions and permission? May!

I was never into gardening but this spring I started planting seeds and it grew on me.

They say March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. Ewe might say it leaves sheepishly.

How excited was the gardener about spring? So excited he wet his plants.

At lunch this past Friday, I got to spend a bit of time with two lovely people, eating and catching up with one another. Although I felt I was somewhat late as the morning got a way from me starting with an emotional phone call from my youngest daughter, then my dog’s cyst on her neck burst while on phone (messy mess yuck clean up) and then finally getting in my truck to go downtown to find parking nearby. Not easy. I thought my resident tag would work at parking lots near water. Nope. So needless to say, I was feeling off kilter going to meet my friends. Coupled with, it was a restaurant I had not been to.

And you know what is awesome? It is the greeting. It does not matter that I am late. It does not matter the length of time away from each other. I come around the corner in the restaurant and lo and behold they greet me (as I do them) like long lost friends with a big smile, arms wide open and a warm strong hug. Yes, Covid-19, you are not getting in the way of receiving and giving love. Nada happening. There is simply an acceptance. Safe and sound. It is a great feeling to be loved, to feel loved and to know love. I do not take it for granted.

I smile when I think of people who are near and dear to me. Each one has a special place in my heart whether it be family or friends or even acquaintances that for some reason have left an indelible imprint on my heart. But when you are in the presence of others who know you, take you for who you are for the most part, have walked with you for a while, it is a treasure to be held carefully and tenderly.

Isn’t it wonderful to be able to sit with another person(s) and really be yourself?! What that looks and sounds like is up to the relationship between the two or more people. It is pure joy in my eyes. There is a comfortableness and safety when you allow yourself to come to trust another person. It is a vulnerability that you give over so that you can just be YOU. Not easy to do at times.

One thing I had learned a long time ago from my grandfather (my dad’s dad) was that he knew how to be present. I think that is part of being able to have a strong friendship or a deeper relationship with someone in I have to be present to them. Listening to the two people that I was with on Friday brought that home to me. I was present. I found myself being very aware of them at our table. It was made clear when one of my friends reminded me to eat my mushroom soup (very delicious by the way) for it would get cold and then again to eat my penne in mushroom sauce (cannot tell you the fancy Italian name). LOL. Even though our lives vary and maybe quite different there is a common thread too. It is the share of a real story, a real emotion, a humanness, an importance in the share….whew it is humbling. Just like a hug.

For a couple hours that are spent together, it is a moment of offering to be present and awake. There could be all kinds of things going on in each of our lives but those are put on hold. Maybe while together one of those lived stories or things come out and are then shared. Who better to share with than from those who call you by name. Hmmmm. And when that happens, a wrapping around of eyes and ears unfold, giving an invisible heartfelt support, to your weary heart. Oh that feels good.

It is not something I take for granted nor do I want to. I find it quite easy to get distracted at times as busy gets busy. I have to laugh when I think about my grandkids. I am grateful for both my granddaughters for two and three year olds do not allow you to get too distracted. Me me me mantra. They want your attention now, right now. LOL. Which is a good thing because I do not want to miss the graced moments given to me. As for my grandson, well he is 12. What more can I say? Gotta love him as he is in his own world. It is me saying to him “see me”. Oh well, I’ll keep plugging away.

It may be why I describe a graced moment with others as being present to them, it is a moment given freely, not earned, from having God in our lives. Maybe awakening to knowing God’s presence. God is everywhere. The feeling of being loved and full, a sense of wonder and awe, as you spend time together. Bequeathed a moment out of time and to be aware that it is happening. There is no need to respond or take an action but more to enjoy, to appreciate, to have an acceptance, to feel hope in whatever is transpiring. Blessings this day.

Let us pray for those whom are in need of our prayers and for be present to the gift of friendships. Amen

And for Mother Nature to give us a break with snow. Amen. (sorry Lord, just had to say it)

What time is it Mr. Wolf? It is Lent o’clock. Yes it is. That special time in the lives of Christians where one makes a concerted effort to give up something or take on something as one looks at resetting their internal being while walking with Jesus in the desert. FYI: Maybe don’t look outside because desert it is not happening. Oops not a funny. Serious stuff is the season of Lent. As I was saying, Lent is the pause in one’s life for 40 days where praying, fasting and almsgiving are hopefully front and centre. For it is an invitation to take up the cross and look in the mirror. Yikes! I am not sure I want to do that. I could give up the wrinkles (keep the laugh lines) and but do I really need to take on more grey hair. Au natural. It seems I’m taking on lots of that.

Giving up or taking on. Hmmmm, Be a better version of the person you would like to be for God encourages you to be in word and deed. It would be highly advisable to note here that one would be best to avoid scanning the latest National Enquirer, Star, Us, Closer, or God forbid (sorry Lord) Sports Illustrated!! Hey, people read what they read while waiting in line at Walmart (3 for 15.00 section of tabloids). Sometimes the wait time requires waiting. I wonder if one can accrue patience in line. Probably not.

Giving up. Well there are tons and tons of things you can give up. It is that whole notion of sacrifice and self-discipline, getting rid of the clutter, the distractions, the whatever that gets in the way of building a richer relationship with God. It is that age old message from Matthew 6:24 where “no man can serve two masters…”. Holy moly what would that look like?! I mean the diet authors would have a hay day when Lent comes a calling….no meat or fat. The tee totalers would be jumping for joy when alcohol gets on the hit list of ‘give up’. And the convenience and Dollar Store franchises would not be singing a happy tune to NO MORE chocolate or junk food jumping in the cart. We have to remember the give up or take ons technically speaking for fasting are for 14+. I am guessing there would be some very sad little puppies because if mom and dad are giving up then sucks to be you, kids. Yikes.

But giving up something can be quite rewarding. It might be more appreciated when you do. Although do not take offence if someone makes a comment like “you are giving what up for Lent!!?” And then immediately says to you “may the odds be in your favour”? Anyway, be that as it may, the act of giving up something for Lent. It is not for the feint of heart. It is not like a New Years Resolution, a flash in the pan kind of thing, where you make a promise and it kind of peter’s off to….nah next year will be better. No. Lenten actions have a deeper meaning to self and hopefully the fruits are witnessed by others too.

If you think about walking in the desert, literally, it is arid, dry, barren. There is little to no distraction and the blessing is you are not alone; Jesus is with you. It is your time to spend with yourself. Outside of coming across an oasis, a respite for a bit, probably more like a mirage, the journey is simple. Never mind the hot and sweaty, gritty sand on feet or nothing to see literally except the blue sky, hot sun and sand, lots and lots of sand. The beauty is in the walk. For when was the last time you went for a walk, on your own, without company, without a cell!! That would be a hoot, no 24/7 “beam me up Scottie” cell. The cell is not a Cell any longer. No wonder it is called a cell – the self slammer. Is that possible to give up one’s cell for Lent? Huh! What did we do before cell phones!!

On the other side, it could be a good thing when taking on something. You know like something daring such as being kinder. Nicer. Gentler. Loving. Courteous. Big-hearted. Helpful. Considerate. There is a wee bit of a theme here…for goodness sake just be a caring human. Is it too much to ask? When did mean and meaner become a norm. Seriously, I really think taking on adulting would cut the mustard. LOL. I mean did the pandemic (lets blame something) plant a bug in self or one’s neighbour to be uncharitable, catty, nasty, odious etc. Man up people and stop making me wonder ‘who peed in your soup’?

The wonder of Lent is that it is a reset button if I want to get technical. Spiritually it is a gift of penitence. Oh there is so much to work with. Yikes!! Anyway, I can chuckle all I want but it really is about the acceptance of me and forgiving myself in what I have done and what I have failed to do as a Christian. The whole notion of Lenten action in prayer, fasting and almsgiving is more of the re-ing of self. Re-arrange. re-birth, re-build, re-fresh, re-new, re-organize, re-vitalize, re-awaken. Me.

So the time is here. Lent 0’clock. No more ‘just one more…then I start Lent.” Maybe look at it as not the end of the world or unwilling sacrifice or this is going to hurt. Sheesh. It can be a time to rip the bandaid off and go cold turkey. How hard can it be to pass Tim Horton’s, ignore the Friday night pub, skip the candy aisle, be positive to grumpy, no texting, actually talk face to face, wake up before the alarm, drink water only, dock your phone, control the remote control, be silent/be still, say a prayer.

At the end of the day, Lent is an invitation of time. How I spend it? well that is entirely up to me in how I take part. So this year I decided to work on two things patience, taking it on, and intermittent fasting (supposedly good for you–tell that to tummy). Anyway, have you ever been with a two, almost three year old, recently? Well, Lent hear my prayer. LOL. And for the other, there is fasting and then there is fasting. Oh my. How fast can fast take? Yes, I await the hour to draw near. As I said, “what time is it Mr. Wolf?”. Blessings.

Let us pray for those whom are in need of prayers this day. Amen.

I do not think there is a time in our lives that suffering and pain, hurt and sorrow are not happening in someone’s family. Nor is there a moment where joy and laughter are not taking place at the exact same time. Oh the paradox of life before us. I think about the beautiful passage in Ecclesiastes 3, there is a season for everything. I had just pondered about the seasons in particular winter recently. Yet there are seasons in our lives which bespeaks to a “there is a season for everything, a time for every occupation under heaven” Ecc 3:1 No matter what is taking place in our lives, life goes on.

There are some things in one’s memory that sticks and resurrects itself at times. Reminders that life moves regardless if you want it to or not. Want to change the course of what is happening. Want life to just pause for just one sticken moment, pardon my French. A memory comes to me as I remember the morning after the death of my husband. I was sitting in my van waiting for the lights to turn green because I was heading down to see my priest Father Charles at that time. My head in a whirl, looking out at the world with a haze and daze I think. Going to be making decisions that I had not prepared for at all. Hear things I was not ready to hear. See things that was not in my thinking in any way shape or form. And do things that were truly surreal and somewhat of a mystery during that sorrowful and tragic time.

It was at the corner of my street actually that it hit me between the eyes so to speak. My mind was askew I think but for some reason this stuck. There was a mother and daughter standing waiting at the lights for the walking signal for them to go across the busy street at the same time as me. They were heading in the same direction as me. The odd thing was I noticed what they were doing….laughing together at whatever was being said. Ordinary regular typical day. And the mom, bless her heart, hugged her daughter in that moment as little arms embraced her waist. They were having a good time. Just a parent and child doing their thing. And why not. Yet for me, it was not a day of happy and laughter in me or in the van or in my house. Not today. Nothing was normal about it. Not ordinary. Not typical. Nada.

What struck me as I reflect on that day was how life went on. Life continued. Life moved forward, the grass would grow, the lawns would be cut, laughter and tears abound at the street corner or in the park or at the mall or in the home….life continued. How could that be? How can that be? How does one process the pandemonium and turmoil within the heart and mind and yet see life lived before ones eyes. How does even that work?

Yet it did and it does daily. It reminds me of something I learned in a course many moons ago and walked with in my life, sharing it with others too along the way, the principle of sacramentality. A fancy term maybe, not meaningful to some, but it has a huge meaning in the lives living on this earth. Seeing the extraordinary in the ordinary; in other words, seeing God in all things. That for some mysterious way, life does not pause even in the moments when suffering and possible imminent loss of a loved ones comes to us. For if I think about it, not in a morbid way, but in a more beautiful way, birth and death, are givens. We come into this world and we will leave this world. But in between a gift has been given, short or long term, a live to be lived and to live that life to do the good. To be all that we can be in that time.

Are we prepared for the suffering and pain? Are we prepared for the joyful and humorous moments? Are we prepared for a birth or a death? I am not sure if we truly are until the moment it happens. Even in the between times of our time on earth, are we prepared for the crazy life that is in abundance, full of unbelievable happiness and anguish? I think of the scripture passage from Ecclesiastes where it says the word time about 29 times or so (I counted I think correctly). In those times, they spell out life lived in relationship with humanity and its environment, stewards to this earthly vessel of human and divine life given. How does the heart and mind manage, cope, live fully? Yet I am asked to. You are asked to. We are asked to.

I do not have the answer except to pray for each of us in hope. There are no words that can take away whatever has gone on or is going on in the lives of others when things are full of grief and sorrow. Lately I have been repeatedly offering these words to people in my life that life is precious. Again and again, I receive news of those in my life who are walking with woe and heartache. Seeking answers to things out of their control but praying and hoping for strength and courage. A miracle. Oh how life is precious. It is not to be taken for granted. Yet I think I do at times.

Maybe it is watching my dad and mom having health challenges that cannot be changed. Cannot be fixed like a broken leg or aloe vera on a sunburn. I hold my mom’s hands, hands that have been worthy of greatness as she weaved them to make life better for those she touched literally and metaphorically. Those hands that would hold my face or wrap around me, pulling me close in her arms. Giving me words of comfort and now can no longer chat. Then my dad, strong and self-assured , a do it yourself guy, struggling with one weak functioning kidney after fighting and beating cancer. Grrrr. I tear up.

But life is precious and each moment counts today. So I hold my mom’s hands and massage them, trying to avoid making her wince from the pain in her withered hands. Oh mom. And I read her supposedly funny stories for old people. Yikes! I think I have to find better material. Then I sit with my dad at his home, shared with my sister and hubby, and listen to him tell the same 4-5 stories again. Gotta love you dad. But lately he even has slowed that as well. Conflicting between making things easier for him by getting him a meal or water but knowing he needs to get up to so his body does not atrophy. Sheesh. Getting old sucks. Struggling with health issue when older is more suckier. (emphasizing here)

So I pray today as I think of the paradox of life being so very precious. Where times of birth and dying, planting and reaping, killing and healing, knocking down or building up, tears or laughter, mourning or dancing….time for loving and peace be known. I pray for those who are suffering and for those who walk them in their time of need. Oh to be hopeful, to allow God to hold each of us, and allowing His healing presence so we can be still and in quietude. I shed a tear this day in your laughter and your mourning. You are not alone. Blessings.

Let us pray for those whom are in need of our prayers and to the healing warmth and guiding light of God in each of our lives. Amen

I heard the birds chirping this morning. What a beautiful sound….for right now. LOL Some birds singing can be truly annoying. Even so, I realize that this winter in particular has not been a friend for nature as it teases the dickens out of what is what. Having little snow, then big snow, then rain in spain kind weather with some milder days in February, I wonder how smart nature is and can it respond to the turbulent craziness. I worry that the early signs of spring (thawing and melting and early flooding) which is not close by the way, could give a mixed message, and birds and such have come out in droves. I even saw Canada geese in the field the other day!! Did they even go south? And hibernating animals. Have they come out too? What will that do to them? Because the season of winter is still upon us. Arbitrary annual dates on the calendar do not make the season stop and go. I know for a fact that March can create havoc. You know that phrase “come in like a lamb, go out like a lion” hear me roar as my youngest granddaughter likes to make that sound. Heehee. Time will tell for sure.

But to hear the birds singing this morning, it was music to my ears! I felt a hint of spring in the air. Aaahhh what a glorious feeling! I am okay with that. There are moments when the seasons start to change and something is afoot. I remember one time during March Break and my family went south to Myrtle Beach. Driving down is the best because you see visible signs of spring as the kilometres tick by. Stopping at one of the many gas stations along route I-79, I think in West Virginia, we got out for a good stretch and holy lightning! I could smell and feel spring. My whole body seemed to come alive with vim and vigour. Honestly, it was an unbelievable sensation as the spring-like temperature and GREEN grass….haha….not even sinking in it. And there were flowers with colour!! It was just perfect. But breathing in the air, fresh spring like air, it was an aroma hard to describe. Sometimes the English language, which seems it has multiple phrases and ways for everything, cannot hold up its end of expressed thought. Just felt GREAT. Smelt GREAT. Tony the Tiger….GRRRREAT!!

It is kind of exciting too as I notice that daylight hours are getting longer. Oh yes. The movement of earth takings its’ turn, cycling through, allowing the angle of the sun hitting the earth just right so we are seeing dawn breaking earlier. I am a morning nerd basically. I love love the early morning. There is just something about opening up the world, shedding its light, unwrapping the hidden colour (yes kind of white still), as it touches this place we call home. And going on a walk in the wee hours of early morn….oh yes! Sunrises and sunsets are probably my favourite photos to look at and take as well (me an amateur through and through). The slow rise and fall, book ends to one’s day, seem to call upon the heart to be ready and then later retire as the adventure of the day takes place.

The wonders of the seasons spark a crazy fusion of emotions, don’t you think? I am guessing most people have a favourite and least favourite season. As a season starts to shed its signs, there is an anticipation of responses that come to the forefront of ones mouth like nooooooo or yessssss. Maybe a little more sublte such as Egad! Yikes! Really! Oh my Lord! No way! Yippee! Whoohoo! Boohoo! Blimey! Jeepers! Amen! Hey this is PG and Family channel rated….so there.

But is that not true! Seasons bring out the best and worst in people. LOL. Not funny laughing at them but funny in the way they show their emotions. Two friends come to mind right away about winter. Their faces take on the sourest lemony look (and I really like lemon taste), where the face scrunches up and then the body shivers. All they can think of is the burden of too: too long, too cold, too many clothes, too much shovelling, too slippery, too dark, too shut in, too many colds, too dry, too slushy, too dangerous, too icy, too unpredictable too much of too.

What happened to the long nights and cuddling up, quiet of the world, hot drinks, lip smacking hot chocolate, brisk days get body alert and keen (have you not heard positive effects of cold therapy), comfort foods, winter sports, hot tubs and saunas, family gathering in a cozy way, warm reading socks, snow days (aaahhh the life of a student), catching snowflakes, build snowman or snowlady, or just kicking back to watch snow falling. I really enjoy the snowfall, the blanket of white, frosting on the tree branches, the white banking the moving bubbling brook. Glimmers of beauty. Even one’s breath captured in the air (bad breath or not). And most of all in the early morning or late at night, the stillness of the land in its quiet wrapping, silencing the world around. In other words, there are smiles and chuckles, yikes and grrrs in the paradox of a season. Yea?

Hey winter!! Haha. It’s an okay season. Anyway, winter is half over (yippee kai yeah) and soon spring will have sprung. Which has its own set of oohs and ahs and boos and bahs. Boy I am on a roll today. It just feels good to have the birds chirping, the temperature in single digits, and the sun rising and then setting for longer. I could sing “Mr Sun.” but really I feel like bursting in grace “Oh the Lord is good to me. And so I thank the Lord, for giving me the things I need, the sun (not or maybe to get rid of the snow) the rain, and the apple (maybe family…yes), the Lord is good to me, Johnny Appleseed. Amen!”

Yes it is Sunday. The Lord’s Day for some, always for all, and celebrating Family Day weekend. Blessings.

Let us pray for those who are in need of our prayers this day and for the gift of the seasons. Amen

Happy New Year!!! It is crazy how fast this year has gone. Yes Christmas. After Christmas…then what? Well the beauty of Christmas, hopefully, is that it left a filled tummy, maybe a little overflow around the belt area, and a gentle reminder of wonder and awe. Otherness….thinking of those we love, our neighbours, and those who are in need of our prayers. Yes. It is today that we have the gift of life before us, to be lived and enjoyed on this first leg of the new year of 2023. Woohoo.

Although waking up this morning, which would be January 1st, the ground is green and not a sun peek in the sky. Yes here on the island, its the green green grass of home playing in the background and laying literally before me as I stand out on the deck watching Maggie May do her thing. She likes the winter for some reason in sharing her morning constitution with….find a patch to sit a squat. But not today, puppy.

It is mild out and full blown overcast of greyish dark clouds. Gives off an eerie feeling, gloomy even for a first day of the year!! I think a balmy 5’C right now and heading for a spell of rain today. RAIN! Seriously. Oops got to get into the spirit of things and celebrate this new first day of 2023.

After Christmas….then what? New Year Resolutions. Hmmmm. I am thinking there is no point in doing that because the promise seems to dwindle like a song and dance entitled ebb and flow. Kind of like the movement of the tide here on the island. Comes in strong and swift, do whatever for a bit, then slowly goes out, leaving a wake of little evidence of the resolution worked on. LOL. Oh what to do what to do? Maybe it is time to reverse the process or better yet, give it a new name such as New Year ‘s Give One Take One. I do this and then I get that. Sounds like a plan.

I mean one can look at the fresh start of the new year with fun and sport in mind. It could be anything really. Fun?? Well, puddle jumping in your wellington’s or waders. Yes this January ’23 year, the weather has been unbelievable here in southern Ontario and on the island of PEI. Green is the order of the day. And rain!! But make sure that the mukluks and mittens are your nearby bin. You could get whip lash trying to figure out what going to take place. I feel for the winter resorts and sports out there. Golf anyone??

After Christmas. I have the memories of Christmas -pre during and post – to stay with me which cannot be taken for granted or forgotten. Lovely. Yes Christmas came wonderfully in. The most interesting part is that I celebrated Christmas Day by myself, on my own, for the first time in my life actually. Intentionally. I am still hesitant to attend Mass so watching Mass for Shut-Ins on TV was actually quite nice for me. I enjoyed the homily by the priest with a Maritime twang and savour the hopeful message shared. Not appropriate I know, but I can revisit it too as it was taped. I think God would be okay with technology allowing that to happen. Yes?

And of course I had my pop tart(s). Let’s not kid ourselves. A tradition since I was a child, pop tarts are deliciously awfully not good for you but still I like them. Although cherry is my favourite flavour, they are not made in Canada. So I had to suffer with blueberry and raspberry. Yes I indulged. Thank you Kellogg’s.

I made a full turkey meal with stuffing and cranberry to boot. I enjoy the whole preparation of making the turkey dinner and the colour A bit of gravy, roasted veggies (carrots, squash, onions), stuffing, cauliflower mashed and yorkshire pudding (no fresh rolls). I realize Yorkshires is an English tradition with roast beef entree but oh well….not at my table. Instead of being at the dining table, I sat curled up on my couch enjoying a Christmas movie and eating. Of course Maggie Mae was nearby. She sits patiently, waiting for anything to spill. Maggie, you need to know I do not spill my food or toss it….unlike my grandkids or certain kids who do not care for something. Yep, I know who you are.

After Christmas….then what. Well unfortunately and fortunately, it is all in how you look at things. For one thing, I had to pack and ready my place for leaving once again. It is a catch-22 feeling. The truth of the matter is that you want to be with your family and friends, be in two places at once. Or even three. Yes, technology is wonderful and welcomed, but nothing like the big hug and squeeze from a human. The chortle and chuckle, the tear and smile, the touch and sense of home in those you are with. Leaving those I love and head to those I love, how can it get much better? It can’t be compared.

Time goes by so fast. I mean I just got home and then in the next breath, I am heading back over the bridge in the wee hours of the morning for the long drive back to Ontario. Chockfull of goodness in my head and heart but not in my truck. Left the goodies and waist increasers; need to curb the verb of eat. LOL. I guess I can be grateful that the ticket price to get off the island has not gone up. Bargain price of $50.25. I hope it stays there for a little while. Thank goodness toll on the Quebec 30 is $3.00 to bypass Montreal which by the way has not changed. But 407, now that is a lottery shoot. Have no idea but with tired eyes in the last few hours of my drive, no traffic at all until merging on to 400 N….aahh the life.

After Christmas….then what? Unwrapping the Christmas spirit and allowing it to fill my heart and mind to burst far and wide. The paradoxes of the season can be put to rest for a bit as the pressure – the joy, the rush – the silence, the wrapping – the unwrapping, the visits – the praying, the gathering – the so longs, the giving – the receiving, the eating – the relaxing, the excitement – the nap, the preparation -the cleaning, the Mass and the go forth. The spirit of the season is an invitation to be continued, working its way to be present tirelessly and endlessly within which BTW….thanks be to God.

Just remember to keep the spirit alive and less on the belt buckle moving another couple of spaces, or the tucked away dessert tray your sister left behind, or the comment about a gift you gave. Oops and please do not look at the final total of Christmas on VISA or MC. Probably it is best not to say the true spirit of Christmas is the birth of Santa. I heard that one and laughed a loud. But holy moly crackers and cheese it is probably not that far fetched. Goodness. I am thinking Santa has got it right….he only comes once a year. Sheesh. But for me thank the Lord, He is with us always. Blessings.

Let us pray for those whom are in need of prayers. Hold them in your hearts today. Amen.