Yesterday I was in shock. Today I’m just sad. I’m sad that so many people in the States voted for a egomaniacal narcissist, who wears hate and racism on a hat that says, “Make America great again.” I’m sure his supporters are happy today because so many of them share his beliefs. Prior to the election I heard many people say, “yeah, I may not like the man but I like his policies.”
Well, I hope they like the mass tariffs he’s about to place on incoming products from other countries and the higher prices they will have to pay for them. Oh and how about the Project 2025 program, which has been called the “woke Propaganda.” His administration will waste no time implementing it. If you want a small glimpse of what’s coming, check out the series, “The Handmaid’s Tale,” based on Canadian writer Margaret Atwood’s novel. This is no joke! What were the women who voted for him thinking!!!
I also hope the Americans who voted for their new supreme leader like authoritarianism because they are about to lose so many freedoms generations before them fought with blood and tears for, but my guess is most of his supporters lack critical thinking abilities and have been brain-washed after years of listening to their fake news media and their religious leaders. They think he’s the greatest ’cause he keeps telling them he is. Pathetically, they also lack any reflective ability on what’s happening in the world and their place in it. (I’m glad we took our kids to Disneyland when Biden was in office ’cause we won’t be visiting this protectionist country anytime soon) I wonder how many other world travellers will feel the same. Let them be isolated if they want it so badly!
And so, today I’m sad.
After listening to Kamala Harris’s concession speech yesterday, (something T***p wasn’t man enough to do four years ago) I was deeply moved. This morning I decided to get up, shaking off these post election blues and let it all go. There is nothing I can do about it and continuing to hold a low vibration of anger and sadness will not help the world.
I’m moving on with hope and looking at history as my guiding light. After all, the world survived even Nero and the fall of Rome and more recently Hitler and Germany. I think Tr**p has it totally wrong. What makes any country or people great is upholding the strong morals of; honesty, respect, compassion, cooperation, generosity, and courgage. I’m grateful my parents instilled these in me as my north star.
(Above, my parents Marvynne and Ethel (nee Herrling) Clark in our home in the early 60’s. (My dad died in 1965) They married after the second world war, a time many people thought was a golden era. They worked so hard to put bread and butter on our table. I suppose the golden part referred to the fact they were living in the post war era when so many people had died fighting for freedom from hatred and tyranny. They were the lucky ones who could live in peace afterwards but make no mistake, it was not an easy time. They taught me to work hard, be honest and respectful, be grateful and count my blessings)
In addition, to love my neighbour…even when I don’t agree with the choices they make in life. Speaking of neighbours, so many of us are forgetting our real life ones in our navel gazing day to day life. I was heartened when I drove my kids home from school yesterday and Victoria said, “hey mom, drop me off at the top of the drive way so I can take our neighbour’s garbage can back to their house. (Last year our neighbour had a heart attack and the kids know these little kindnesses send a message of love and care.) Fills my heart with pride to know they are learning to be kind and considerate, a legacy from my parents)
Okay, I’m done. I’ve said my piece. Does it feel good? No, but it’s part of history. My history that my grandchildren need to know I lived through. Yes, I plan to live through this. For now though, it’s time to get on with life. Deep breath, moving forward. When I sign off I’ll be heading out into my yard to rake some leaves, prune some bushes, and clean up my perennials. The sun is shining and it looks like it will be a blue sky, lovely fall day in my part of the world.
Our earth is an incredible healer. If you are feeling sad today, I urge you to head out for a walk, touch a tree, feel the earth and join me in mutual appreciation.
Life is good! We will get through this time and all shall be well.
Join me in holding a hopeful heart with strong morals being a light upon our path.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
And to my faded blue jeans with the flowers patched on the pocket
Saying goodbye to a guest is never easy
Maybe she knew and left without wanting to see my tears
I hold her in my heart and hope she returns once more
Until then I open my arms to a new season
Welcome Autumn
You too, are my blessed friend
Lee Reynolds
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..My dearest friends and family,
I hope this post finds you well. I haven’t written on my blog in a coon’s age so I may have lost my whole audience. I know, I know, we’ve all been busy, but today, I wanted to drop a line and share some of this week’s memories before they fly by. Life is flying by.
As the garden gate closes with a sigh, we are spending more time indoors. My youngest children went trick or treating this week. I’m counting down now, there won’t be many more years when they are wanting to dress up and gather treats from the neighbours. Like the changing seasons, it’s bitter sweet watching my children grow. Some parents may be hurrying their children towards independence but not me. I savour every stage. Each moment of development is treasured and I only wish they would slow down a bit.
Below are some Halloween pics of Victoria/aka Mario and her twin side kick Kathryn, (aka Rosalina) The girls went trick or treating with all their friends who were dressed up as various characters from the Mario and Luigi group. Will (the ghoulish convict) decided to dress up very last minute and join a few of his friends who are small fourteen year olds. He’s now topping 6’1″ so we wondered what people would think when he went trick or treating but no one said anything. Maybe they have my philosophy that as long as you dress up and are polite, treats will be bestowed gladly.
The spider over the entrance to our front door is made from two, black plastic bags. One for the body and the other is cut into eight strips. Anything left over is part of its’ stuffing. I use old tissue paper for the stuffing. The eyes and mouth are just cut out from construction paper. When the legs blow in the wind it’s rather scary. Also, we play this timeless music, “Chamber of Horrors,” hiding a Bluetooth speaker near the front door.
Halloween Cookies below are in my Recipes listed under Sugar Cookies....Just decorate with some candy corn, smarties and chocolate chips
I hope you enjoyed seeing a few pics from our Halloween 2023. It always goes by in a blur but oh isn’t it fun. It’s hard to believe that fall is here but the days are cold and crisp, although the sun warms us up mid day. Last fall it was warm so long that the tree’s leaves remained and then suddenly winter came and the leaves hadn’t dropped. It’s reassuring when the seasons change, while hard to say goodbye, life is a series of transformations. Time to bloom, and time to rest, Time to grow and time to reflect.
As the season changes I hope wherever you are it moves with ease and grace and all things good come your way.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
This morning I went to a tea to remember a dear friend of my mother’s who passed away at the grand old age of 97, just after Christmas of last year. “Last year!” Oh that sounds so terribly long ago, and yet it was only 2 weeks ago when we sang in the New Year. “Happy New Year 2017”
Inez was a friend of my mom’s from the years we lived in Hope, B.C., (near the west coast). She was one of my mom’s friends who stayed close after my Dad died when I was 5, and then in their later years they ended up living near each other in our current community and so, their lives intertwined. My oldest sister B and Inez’s only daughter, Lilian, were best friends, until Lil died of cancer 15 years ago. Inez, out lived all four of her children, her husband, and most of her friends.
Why is it, that funerals, memorial services, or even simple teas, like the one I went to today, always take me down memory road and bring reflections on how we live our life. I was thinking about what her son in law J, (Lil’s husband) said about how, in Inez’s lifetime, she learned to just keep going. Maybe it was part of living through the depression years and the 2nd World War that taught endurance and resilience to that generation, but whatever lessons taught to survive, she learned them well. I can’t even fathom living beyond all of my children but I know it would tear my heart out and yet, somehow she continued to live and breathe.
I remember when Lil died 15 years ago, in February 2002, my sister came with her daughter to attend her best friend’s funeral and at the time, my niece T, had her first baby daughter. They asked me to watch my great niece, H, who was this bright eyed, sweet adorable, 91/2 month old. Oh, our time together was delightful. Although it was bitter cold, I bundled her up and took her out for a walk and when we returned her cheeks were rosy red.
It had been such a dark winter, for not just me, but the whole world. Only 6 months prior, on September 11, 2001, almost 3000 people lost their lives in a horrific terrorist attacks on the World’s Trade Tower in New York, the Pentagon in Washington, D.C., and in a plane crash near Shanksville, PA. The month of that attack was memorable for me in a more personal way, since after trying to conceive for a long time, I finally was pregnant with our longed for, final addition to our family; our Soulbaby.
It was hard to be joyous when a tent of sadness had fallen over the world but yet, I had a glimmer of new life growing and I walked around often above the heavy grey fog, the rest of the world was still reeling under. At least until, the end of November when a routine ultrasound brought me down to the depths of that darkness and my dream for another baby crashed when I heard, “I’m sorry, there is no heart beat.”
Even though our baby had died, my body didn’t want to let go. Two weeks passed and still, no natural miscarriage came. By the end of November, my Doctor, fearful of an infection, admitted me to the hospital, to have an induced miscarriage. As my uterus started to contract, I watched soft snowflakes gently fall outside my hospital window, appearing like angel feathers falling from heaven.
Somehow, like Inez, I continued to live and breathe, dragging my heavy overcoat of pain and grief, numb to the simple joys of life. When you are a mother to other children, you have to get up in the morning. feed them, cloth them, brush their teeth, even though I longed to bury myself under the depths of down in my bed and allow sleep to sweep me from my living nightmare. When we had found out we were pregnant, we had decided to get our children two kittens for Christmas. We thought it would be nice for them to have fur friends to nurture, as I was caring for a new baby and so, we committed to adopt sibling Siamese kittens; a male and a female. A few days before Christmas of 2001, we brought the kittens home.
They were tiny, fluffs of furry white with piercing blue eyes. The little female, who we named, Misumi, after a dear family who lived across the road from us in Hope, was spunky. She ripped around the house in spurts of energy, only to collapse on the cozy blanket with her brother, soaking up the heat of the fireplace I had on non-stop that winter. We named the little male, “Samurai” thinking a warrior name was befitting, but he seemed listless and quiet from his first days in our home and little did I know then, how much he would earn that name.
I should have known better, since I have had several cats in my lifetime but in hindsight, we should not have taken the kittens until they were at least 10 weeks old. It was Christmas time though and I had wanted our children to experience the joy of new life and happiness for the holidays. The breeder had assured us that it would be fine. It was not fine.
It clearly became apparent that the male who we nicknamed, “Sammy,” was not eating well, and each day he seemed to have less energy, until he was just lying on the blanket in front of the fire for hours at a time. We knew something was seriously wrong and so we took him to the vet, who gave us special formula and little doll- like bottles to feed him. They were hopeful that with the supplemental milk, and special soft cat food, he would pick up and so we took him home. I carried him around much of the time in a little blanket, coaxing him to feed and willing him to fight.
Since it was Christmas holidays, D took our 3 older children up downhill skiing almost every day and I was home with our preschooler, Harrison and the kittens. It wasn’t long though, before we knew Sammy wasn’t picking up and so my husband David and I took him back to the vet’s office. They examined him and agreed, his health was seriously at risk. They kept him overnight and gave him some fluids but early the next morning they asked us to come in for a consult.
We rushed to the vet’s office where we were told Sammy may have a digestion abnormality, although in my gut, I think he had been weaned too soon from his mother. The vet suggested that we euthanize him since he was suffering and probably would only last a day or two more at the most. With tears in my eyes, I looked at David and we both nodded our heads in agreement.
With great care and compassion the vet, brought Sammy to us to say goodbye. He held him as though he was a fragile china doll and softly whispered, “Sleep well,” as he administered the needle that would stop his heart.
Exhale!
Exhale!
Exhale…….
He then slowly wrapped him in a cozy flannel blanket and placed him in a tiny box and passed him to me. As I looked into our vet’s blue eyes, I recognized a world of peace and kindness and I felt my chest crack open.
As we drove home, the heavy darkness I had been carrying inside of me released and tears poured down my cheeks in torrents, as I kept repeating over and over again, “I can’t even keep a kitten alive, I can’t even keep a kitten alive.”
When we got home, the door from our house into our garage opened and I could see all of our children’s expectant faces peering through. David got out of the van and quietly spoke to them and as he closed the door, their faces were already contracting in tears and sadness.Then I could hear David rummaging around where we keep our gardening tools and finding what he wanted, he walked out to the yard. I sat in the van for quite a while, growing colder and colder, holding the weightless box, and a wisp of a dream, allowing my tears to empty.
Sammy died on January 2nd, 2002. He was 10 weeks old. My soulbaby, had been 10 weeks old too when her heart beat stopped. I didn’t know how I was going to go on that winter, but knowing you have a family to care for, you get through. And that February, when I knew my sister’s best friend had died too young, leaving her three girls mother less, suddenly life just seemed too hard. Why, Why, Why! do we have to experience such pain, such sadness, such suffering in this lifetime?
And then, as I watched my rosy, red cheeked great niece sit in front of our fireplace, playing happily with my children’s old baby toys, totally oblivious to this being the day of her “Great Auntie Lil’s funeral, totally unaware of all the fear and hate in the world, I could see a crack of light beam through the dark wall of grief I had been building all winter long.
We go on, the road goes ever on, and I must follow it, if I can.
Maybe Inez had the key and could see far ahead. So far ahead that she remembered the way home.
A lot of goodness has occurred in the last 15 years in my life; I got pregnant again the month after Lil’s death and one year and one week after my miscarriage, I gave birth to our sweet amazing Grace, just down the hall where I sat watching angel feathers fall.
And THAT Christmas, was full of magic and wonder as we marveled over the joy of new life in our home. The memories from that time, like a bandage, cover the scar that never totally heals. The pain sometimes seeps to the surface, even now, reminding me to keep flowing through life, with least resistance, like a river to the ocean, always moving closer to home.
Farewell Inez!
If you can’t see the above, click the hyper-link below:
“Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.” ~Anatole France~
Do you ever wonder about the amazing gifts our pets bestow upon us? I have been pondering this ever since our 13 year old cat, May Ling disappeared 10 days ago. One day she was very much a part of our lives, always meowing for attention and jumping on anyone who sat for more than a minute, and the next moment she had vanished.Not a trace of her anywhere. I don’t know what is worse, not knowing where she is, or what become of her, or my guilt over feeling that I didn’t love her enough.
May Ling (the light cat) and Ryuuki on our window seat
Oh, I know that sounds wicked. I mean who wouldn’t love a cuddly, sweet, adorable cat? The only thing she ever wanted to do ever since she arrived on our doorstep was to love and be loved. Unconditionally. But I just couldn’t open my heart wide enough to embrace her fully. You see, the fall that she was born, (Oct 28, 2001) I had finally become pregnant with our Soulbaby. A baby that we had tried a long time to conceive. We got pregnant right after the September 11th terrorist attack. Although it was an unbelievable dark time in the world, getting pregnant at last, was a tiny bright spot full of hope in our lives.
Our first beloved Siamese cat named, Ninja, had died at the ripe old age of 16 the year before, and once we became pregnant with Soulbaby, D and I thought it would be a good time to give our children a new cat. In early November, we met a local breeder of Siamese cats. Her female had just had kittens and D and I went to meet the kittens. I fell in love with a little male AND his sister who were both Seal point Siamese, which was Ninja’s colouring. Although we planned to get only one cat, we left the breeder’s home with a sales agreement for the little male and the female.
Sadly, at the end of November, I miscarried Soulbaby. It had been a really difficult experience, as I went in to check on baby at 10 weeks and baby’s heart beat had just stopped based on the ultra sound dating. Since I was still in the 1st trimester, my Doctor thought I should just let things happen naturally. I waited and waited but nothing happened. Finally, at almost 12 weeks, I went in for a check up only to discover my uterus had continued to grow, as if it wasn’t ready to say good bye. Due to the risk of infection, at 12 weeks, I went in to the hospital for an induced miscarriage.
Even though we were grieving over the loss of Soulbaby, we decided that we would move ahead with the purchase of the kittens. Just before Christmas, we picked up little Samurai and Misumi. They were so tiny and sweet, little creamy white balls of fur. The female, Misumi, adjusted to life in our busy home easily, eating and racing around with her little grey tail flying in the air. Sammy was quiet and seemed to enjoy sleeping on the velvet pillow I placed in front of our gas fireplace. He didn’t seem to be thriving so we decided to take him into our vet for a check up. We were sent home with special kitten food and formula with little bottles for him to take in a bit more nourishment.
While D and the kids went up skiing over Christmas, I carried Sammy around in my arms, feeding him and telling him to fight and live up to his Samurai, warrior name. He grew weaker and weaker though and after several more days we took him back to the vet who told us that they believed the kitten had some abnormality with his digestive system.They agreed to take him in and try to get him to rally but he never did. After 2 more days the vet suggested we put him to sleep. He was 10 weeks old when we watched him close his eyes for the last time. I had lost my Soulbaby at 10 weeks and now little Sammy at 10 weeks.
We wrapped him in a little fur blanket and he was gently put in a little box. We carried him, light as a feather, home and D, dug a grave next to where Ninja was buried. D made a heart shaped plaque with his name and age and we said a tearful goodbye. I never knew I could cry so hard for a kitten but the tears poured out of me. I cried for the loss of our baby and now for this tiny innocent life. Had I done enough to keep him alive? .
I was really mad at the breeder too because I felt she had let the kittens be weaned too soon. If he had had a bit more time with his mother, I felt he would have had a good chance but she had said that the mom hadn’t been very strong after the birth of the kittens and weaning early seemed like the best thing to do. As compensation for Samurai’s loss, (could there be any?) she said that she had one female left. She was the runt of the litter and the breeder had been giving her extra attention to make sure she survived. She was a blue lynx point, taking after the father, and the breeder said she was very sweet-natured.
Although, I had really wanted a brother, sister set, we agreed to take the female and the moment we met her we could see that she was a lovely kitten. She had been babied though and she was used to LOTS of attention. That was great for our kids who just loved the two sisters. We were so focused on ensuring the new kitten, who we named, May Ling grew. We gave her lots of special kitten food and she quickly developed a fat tummy which prompted the kids to affectionately call her, “Wide Load.”
She was a sweet kitten and the two sisters were such a joy to have in our home but I never spent too much time cuddling them or giving them too much attention. I was still grieving for Soulbaby and reeling over the loss of Sammy. I couldn’t keep my baby or the tiny kitten alive and I can remember feeling so inadequate as a mother. I was in a fog.
By the time Spring came and the sun with it, our oldest daughter Alyssa and May Ling were connected. As soon as Alyssa came home from school, May Ling would be by her side.
Misumi, who grew into an adventurous, fearless cat, was beloved by our boys. With the warm days of spring, I found joy emerging and before March ended I discovered I was pregnant once again. Our 5th child, Grace Elizabeth, arrived the following December. She was born one year and a week after we said a final goodbye to Soulbaby.
Christmas 2002 was happy in our house with a healthy baby girl and our kittens had grown into mischievous cats. With 5 children ranging in age from 12 to newborn, I of course was focused on keeping the kids healthy and happy. My vision of a great marriage, beautiful children and 2 cats in the yard had come true.
May Ling was always wanting to be in every picture and family celebration
During the 2008 summer, Misumi went missing. We were all so devastated and May Ling went around crying for her sister. As a result of posters we had put up in the neighbourhood, one of our neighbours called to say that he had found her and taken her remains to the SPCA. She had been hit by a car. Even though we had contacted the SPCA, they never told us of the dead Siamese that had been brought in. We all cried and cried but another piece of me grew even more distant from May Ling. I also felt so guilty that Misumi had been killed by a car…something that we should have prevented by keeping her in the house. I was more mindful after that, ensuring May Ling was in the house but that wasn’t ever a problem as she was a homebody.
May Ling always liked being in all the action…if I was in the kitchen…she was either sleeping near by or watching what I was making
It was hard on May Ling when Alyssa went off to University that fall. She would go around meowing miserably for her girl. When I got pregnant with Will that fall we decided to go ahead and get another Siamese, more for May Ling than anyone else. Ryuuki, (which means little dragon) came into our home a tiny but rowdy little scruff of fur. Even though May Ling had been on the scene first, he quickly showed her that he was in charge even though he was 1/2 her size. She seemed to be okay with that as long as he let her sleep next to him.
Our little dragon, Ryuui became May Ling’s cat companion after her sister Misumi died
Alyssa was home from University last summer…May Ling was always in her lap
This last Spring, I knew in my heart that May Ling wasn’t going to be with us much longer. I didn’t know how much longer we had with her but she seemed to be wasting away. All of our Siamese cats get very sleek and trim in the summer so perhaps the loss of her weight wasn’t so much a concern but it was the look she gave me that told me the end was coming. Every time I would sit down too she was right there wanting attention and she would look up into my eyes with such love. She seemed to be getting around well, although occasionally, it appeared she had sore joints. She would still follow me out and around the garden and she was certainly eating with her usual delicate appetite…no longer the wide load of her youth.
After Alyssa left home, Clark was always good for a good sit
On the day that she went missing, I had spent it with my sisters at a lavender farm, where we learned to make wreaths. When I arrived home later in the afternoon, I don’t recall seeing May Ling. I hurriedly made a couple pizzas, one to take to my sister’s home as she had invited us out for the evening and one to leave with the kids who would stay home. We spent the evening visiting my sisters and their husbands and when we returned late in the evening, the last thing I was thinking about were our cats. It had been a long, delightful day and besides, Grace had been taking care of the cats. She was responsible for feeding them twice a day.I feel bad now, not knowing exactly when our sweet girl may have gone missing.
Enjoy the beauty of life…a picture from the lavender farm…July 22nd when May Ling went missing
When she didn’t show up the next day, I knew something was wrong. As I got the little kids ready for swimming lessons in the morning, May Ling wasn’t meowing for her breakfast which often annoyed me as I had so many mouths to feed. I would yell to Grace, “feed the cats!” as I would race out the door with the little kids but that morning even Ryuuki wasn’t around. He often sleeps in though so that wasn’t my concern….not seeing May Ling worried me, Already my gut was telling me something wasn’t right.
Well we did the usual. Called the SPCA. I whistled and called her name. We walked and drove around the neighbourhood but there wasn’t any sign of her. For the last week we have left the doors open, just in case she should walk back home. I have been haunted by her beautiful blue eyes though. They follow me everywhere, during my wakeful hours and in my sleep. Several nights after she disappeared, I had a dream of my mother holding her gently in her arms, telling me that she was okay and she would love her now. (My mother passed away 3 years ago but always loved our cats)
Since then I have had to let go to a degree for the sake of my well being, but still, she is in my conscious thoughts. Here is what she has taught me, or perhaps the better word would be reminded me.
Our fur friends remind us that life is short.
To be loving, both giving and graciously receiving, while we are here.
Be at peace, have lots of naps and look for fun things to do whenever we can.
They are gifts that come for a brief part of our lifetime and for us to really learn from them, we need to love them well, with all our hearts and with full abandon. They give us far more than we can EVER give them in return.
In hindsight, I wished I had loved her better. I wished I had taken a bit more time to rest and let her sleep in my lap. I wished I had told her what a wonderfully lovable cat she was and how thankful I was to have her in our family.
I know that I wasn’t the best cat mom to her but I have learned my lesson. Ryuuki is getting all of the attention right now and lapping it up. He doesn’t seem to be distraught over her disappearance. He is just living his life and enjoying his family. Perhaps he is teaching me another valuable lesson.
“Love the one your with|”
Wherever you are May Ling…you were a GREAT cat. Thank you!….we will love you forever!
Will takes his sisters safely across the parking lot to preschool….me snapping pictures and weeping over how bittersweet this moment truly is. This is the last time I take any of my children to their first day of preschool
When we arrived at preschool I could hear this weird booming sound and it wasn’t until we got across the parking lot and passed some parked cars that we saw the source. These two beagles were howling for their humans…probably their little humans who were starting preschool for the first time. The girls thought they were enchanting as the dogs wagged their tails madly. What a great greeting on the first day of preschool!
Although our children’s preschool has changed a lot in the 20 years since our oldest attended,
this sign has never changed but reminds me how many firsts and lasts I have experienced and how much I have changed
Our youngest daughters, Victoria Hope and Kathryn Mira, started preschool this week. When did they grow up? It’s hard to believe this will be the last time I experience the “first” day of preschool with our children.
Victoria and Kathryn are so “BECITED” to start preschool…that is Victoria’s word btw
“This time will never come again,” is a mantra I have been humming to myself lately. Although we have two years of preschool stretching out ahead of us, with pumpkin patch field trips and all sorts of parties and special events. Before I know it, our little ones will be moving on to big kid school.
(Education is not filling a pail but the lighting of a fire. ~William Butler Yeats)
The first day of preschool is now behind me.
I remember when they were tiny, coming home from the hospital at 41/2 and 5 pounds. I hovered over them, watching their eyes open for awhile, take in the world and then close with exhaustion. It took so much of their energy to just eat. As I fed them, I marveled over their delicate fingers and the down on the tops of their heads. I breathed in their sweet scent and as I fed them, I wished them to grow stronger and bigger so that this day would come. And now it too is past.
As you know many of my blog posts of late have been about our older children moving away from home and many would think our twin daughters are still years away from that and what’s the big deal, but having that experience allows me the perspective of knowing how fast time flies. With me, it’s always about LETTING GO! Is this only me or do we all experience this?
I do feel like I have been given such a gift to have raised a whole generation of older children and now I have the wisdom of hind sight, which I hope garners me wise enough to parent our last children with this knowledge. I will try to be more gentle on myself and on them.
So as I settle in to the fact that all of our children are out in the world, in one way or another, I’m going to treasure all these firsts and lasts and be really conscious each moment knowing, we will never come this way again.
When I was pregnant with the twins I used to call them my little ladybugs babies. They were due on June 14th 2011 but came a month early on May 20th..the Victoria Day long weekend….Ladybug season!
When I was thinking about a life philosophy I could pass onto my daughters (actually all our children) it would be in this poem called, Desiderata. Have you read it? It was popular when I was growing up. Many times over the years as I wondered why I was here on earth. I would recite, “I’m a child of the Universe, no less than the trees and the stars and I have the right to be here.”
I want my children to head out into the world with this belief in their heart, or at the very least in their back pack, so they can dig it out now and then and find something that speaks to them.
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be critical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.
When I was loading my itunes the other day I came across an old Seals and Crofts song (yes I’m dating myself here) I loved growing up. Little did I know how profound it would be to say goodbye to our children, whether they are starting preschool for the first time, heading off to University in another city or flying to the U.K. to start their new life. Knowing how precious the time is makes you stay right in the moment and yes, sometimes weep but often rejoice in the beauty of it all.
Children are the living messages we send to a time we will not see.
~Neil Postman~ (The Disappearance of Childhood (introduction), 1982)
Mitchell and Emily, his grad date and guitar partner
In a blink of an eye our children grow up.
In a blink, the bike is still
Yesterday was my son Mitchell’s last full day at home. This morning he left for Vancouver Island where he will start his post secondary education at the University of Victoria. As I watched him drive off, all I could think of was how fast his childhood flew by.
When he was 6 years old he used to sit in the back seat of our van and ask me what it felt like to drive. I always told him to enjoy his childhood because before he knows it, he would be all grown up. And now he is.
Last night he had a few of his oldest and dearest friends over for an evening around our backyard fire pit, roasting marshmallows and eating S’mores. I was in the living room reading my latest homesteading book called, “Chicken in the Road” by Suzanne McMinn. Every now and then I could hear a chorus of young men laughing as wood smoke would drift in through the open door. I was trying not to think about this being his last night at home.
I buried myself in my book about a middle aged woman (like me) leaving city life and moving to the country to become a farmer. She even had three kids in tow, which made it seem suddenly more doable for me. I loved reading about her chickens, goats, sheep and her cows. As Mitchell was starting his new life, I was thinking how much I wanted to have a new lifestyle as well. I wanted a lot of land and a place to raise his younger siblings. A few chickens would be great too.
I was reading the last few chapters when I heard Mitchell walking to the front yard with his friends. I could hear them laugh and express parting heart felt words, as they said their final good byes. Mitchell came into the house, joined me in the living room and I said, “what’s up?” He just shook his head and told me somberly, he didn’t think it would be so hard saying goodbye to his friends. They had shared so many wonderful memories. One friend had been with him since preschool and it seemed unreal that they were about to head off in different directions.
Issac on the left has been Mitchell’s longest friend
Mitchell with his best friend at their last soccer game…..kind of bittersweet
Mitchell in the middle with some of his friends on Graduation day…looking serious is a hipster thing
We talked for an hour and finally Mitchell decided to say goodnight even though it was actually 2 am in the morning. I stayed up for another 1/2 hour to finish my book (which was great btw) and when I did put my head to the pillow, I was thinking about children and chickens.
We all slept later than we planned in this morning, so when I got up, I hurriedly bathed.while D took the little kids to the kitchen to make them a quick breakfast. He was going to drive Mitchell to University so I knew he wanted to get the little ones fed so he could pack the car. We were all busy getting ready when I heard an outbreak of crying from the kitchen. Wailing from little ones, something about bowls and cereal and frustrated Dad words could be heard.
Then I heard soft footsteps on the stairs and a moment later, Victoria walked in the bathroom saying, “Mom,|” (lately she had stopped calling me mama…since she was a big girl now at age 3)…”Mom, Dad gave me Terrios instead of Harvest Trunch and it’s in the wrong bowl too!” She looked at me with a huge pout on her lips and a furrowed brow. Although I wanted to laugh and pull her to me, I just said, “Tori, be thankful for what you have, or what you have will be taken from you.”
I watched her think about that for a few seconds and then she gave me a little nod and turned and headed back to the kitchen. As I finished getting ready, my words came back to haunt me. From our children, we learn our biggest lessons and I thought about what was going on in my life. I was having to say goodbye to a son who had been really difficult to parent this last year. There were times that I wanted him to leave the house because his energy was so intense and he was often difficult to live with, but here I was finally getting my wish. Be thankful for what you have, for in a blink of an eye, our children grow up and they leave.
Then I was also thinking about how much I wanted a farm and again I was thinking be thankful. We have land, and in some parts of the world my 1/3 of an acre is a farm.
Later in the morning, as I waved goodbye to Mitch with the rest of the family, I was so sad as I felt his physical presence leave our home. Life would be so boring. There would be no daily drama, interesting stories, constantly revolving social life, cello and guitar music, deep laughter, or even heated arguments about chores and sleeping in late.
Mitchell on the left playing his guitar at his grad banquet…I will miss him playing his cello and guitar
I felt a wave of grief flow through my heart as I watched the car go out of sight.
With the little Honda Fit, crammed full, Mitchell heads off to University
This was yet another letting go experience. Breathe.in, out, in, out. It’s going to be okay.
Then I had what Oprah calls an “AHA” moment. Our children are like mirrors shining a reflection into our soul and what I was seeing was only an illusion. I wasn’t letting him go. How can we be apart when we are connected. There is an invisible cord that connects us all on this earth. We are one. We come from the same Source and we will return to the same Source. He is not going, he is right here, as am I.
Mitchell you are Always home
I love what Dr. Wayne Dyer says about shifting perspectives,“Change the way you look at things and the things you look at change.”
I’m choosing to see my children always with me. Hey, Mom, “wink” I think I’m getting this stuff.
All of our children at the afternoon photo session on Grad day for Mitchell, June 2014
As we turned to go back into the house, I reached for Victoria’s hand and asked, if she wanted some toast and jam on her favourite plate?
Munch a piece of toast and listen to one of my fav songs, sung by Andrea Boucelli….”Time to say good bye”….although he is singing it in the language of LOVE…..enjoy!
Life around the homestead has been busier than usual this past week as we have been helping our oldest daughter prepare to leave home. Although she has been in and out of the proverbial nest for the last 6 years while she has been attending the University of Victoria, this trip is the big take off.
Tomorrow she leaves for the U. K. where she will begin her teaching career and hopefully be inspired to write (or complete) one of the many novels she has in the works. We are really sad to see her leave but are also very excited that she is going to one of her “bucket list” places to live in the world. Actually, the U.K. is at the TOP of the list.
Red luggage. This is Alyssa’s Graduation present (B. Ed program) from us
It’s quite fitting as well since she is an English Major. She has been enamored with English history ever since she first started to read. I’ve told her many times that she must have lived there in a past lifetime as she has been so passionate about anything to do with the British Isles however there is that genetic connection as well.
Almost a hundred years ago, my fraternal grandfather, Robert Clark, left Workington, England (Lake District) with two of his brothers. They left their mother, father and many brothers and sisters (there were 13 kids in that family and I often think of what Great Grandmother Jane’s life was like compared to mine) I can’t imagine how their parents must have felt as they watched their three sons pack and then say good bye.
The three sons never returned to England. In fact, one of the brothers drowned in a river in Alberta, Canada and my grandfather had to write home and break the news to the family. I can’t imagine how painful that must have been for his parents. Regardless, that was the way it was back then before plane travel took off and the age of internet or even Skype. So in a way, I feel like Alyssa is going home. I’m sure Great Grandma Jane is smiling and will watching over her.
Well that is the back story but more recently within our immediate family, we have been preparing for this send off for a number of years and in fact in our laundry room is a plaque that says,
To Our Children We Give Two Things, One is roots… The Other is Wings.
Why it’s in the laundry room I can’t say….maybe it’s because the red in the plaque matches my LG washer and dryer? OR it’s to remind me as I wash and dry endless amounts of children’s clothing that the everyday act of caring and nurturing for them is the true gift.
Will sleeping peacefully in the laundry room….it has great white noise when the dryer is on..which is ALWAYS!
I feel like we have really lived that motto to the best of our ability as parents. We have given our children a stable home, a place where their needs come first and their voices are heard. We have also done a good job at allowing them to experience a diverse childhood with exposure to many activities and have provided them with a good education.
I have noticed that Alyssa has been irritated easily in the last few months by our large family and all the various personalities within. I see her flapping her wings, getting stronger daily but not being able to leave the nest quite yet. The winds haven’t been quite right. Once she takes off tomorrow, she won’t be looking back. Instead she will be enjoying the scenery and the experiences along the way.
Another cool insight I have had as I process this letting go moment is that I have never felt more connected with the world as when I think of my oldest baby out in it. She is out with her bigger family and she is going to be okay.
She’s made mention recently that it’s probably easier for us to say good bye to her since our nest will still be jam packed. Yes it’s true, no empty nest syndrome around here but just because we still have lots of children in the house, it certainly doesn’t mean it will be any easier to watch her go. Her leaving is HUGE. She was our first baby. The one we experimented on. The one we hovered over for the first three years until her brother Clark came on the scene. We thought she was the most beautiful, engaging baby in all the world. And she was. She has grown into this strong young woman and even though her voice is quiet, her presence in our lives has been immense. Her leaving will not just create an empty place in our home but in our hearts as well. It’s all kind of bittersweet as we don’t know when we will be together again.
Like my great grandmother Jane, who still had a house full when my grandfather and his brothers left home, I don’t know when I will be able to see Alyssa again. Yes, I will be saving traveling overseas money as soon as she leaves but there is always something that comes up. Oh yeah, we still have to renovate over the garage to accommodate our teenage, drum playing son, the roof of the homestead will have to be replaced and I have huge garden plans that will take not just money but time. You know what I mean, there is always something that comes up. Not to mention her brother Mitchell is off to University in 2 weeks (stay tuned for a post about that good bye moment) and we still haven’t bought everything he will need for his University/cluster housing experience.
I’m not worrying about the money aspect though because somehow it always comes. I do believe that when we have total focus and intention towards any goal it comes to be. I’ve taught Alyssa this well, because I’ve shown her how I reached for the things that I wanted most in the world (the lifestyle to remain at home raising my children and my children themselves, some of whom didn’t come with ease) and eventually all my dreams came true. Even more abundantly than I ever dreamed. I know her dreams will come as well……they are already starting to manifest.
One other belief I hold close to my heart that makes this process easier, is best said in the following poem by Kahlil Gibran,
On Children Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness; For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
Hmmm…isn’t that great! Every part of that poem just resonates with my soul and I hope that my bow has been stable for the surest arrows to fly
Tomorrow when Alyssa flies away, I hope she knows all my love and happiness go with her. And Alyssa, if you are reading this, don’t forget the words on the pillow I embroidered for you years ago. They were the words that a piano adjudicator said to you during one of your music festivals. And they were;
“Relax, Breathe, Trust and Enjoy,“
Don’t be afraid to let the melody soar….great music is within you.
My daughter Alyssa getting ready to take off….2014
Until I see you again, may you be well, happy and peaceful. (and for my blog readers that have children…….let them fly)
