And the Robin sings


RAINDROPS

 

Brilliant, bold, shining

Its iridescent glass globules

Hanging onto the tip of tree branches

Like former icicles when winter’s breath solidified them

Drops of precious moisture

A guarantee

Of life itself

And the robin sits on the top most branch of the birch tree

That has yet to bud

And sings praises to the skies

For the blessed gift of rain

Information withheld


Yesterday at work a coworker told me about the cruel reality of life in Venezuela. Although the nation is purported to be a democratic country, the reality is vastly different.  She told me about the lack of food and medication there and of the way the government controls the media, keeping its citizens in the dark as much as possible. Here in Canada we take our freedom for granted. Although many First Nations peoples deal with the struggle with poverty and fight for their rights, they are not shot for protesting (rightfully) the lack of clean drinking water, for example, or the long list of wrongs committed against them, unlike the people of Venezuela. And this is not to slight in any way the experiences of our indigenous peoples. It is simply to point out the gross human rights violations in Venezuela and around the world where the response to peaceful protest is violence. Canada has a long way to go to address the issues facing First Nations groups. Yet, I am grateful to live in a country where food, for the most part, is abundant and medical care, though not without its downfalls, is provided. Living with plenty does not give us a license to turn a blind eye to our indigenous people, nor to the people around the world living in terror as the direct result of tyranny. Today I will pray for peace and for people everywhere to have their needs met. And I will give thanks that I have the choice to be informed about what is happening here at home, and around the world.

Tribute


It’s been 5 months since my brother Chris died in a horrific and totally preventable car accident. Five months since the day our lives were turned upside down and the world became a foreign, desolate place filled with pain, shock, and disbelief. Five months of struggling and grappling with the reality that Chris no longer lives on this plane of existence.  Yet, he does live. He lives in that place where no hurt or pain can touch him.  He lives in our hearts and in our memories. He lives every time we reach out in kindness or compassion to others. He lives every time we give of ourselves and attempt to emulate his generosity. Oh yes, he does live. He lives in every memory filled with love and fondness.  He lives in and through us, his family members and friends. He touched so many lives and the echo of his life will continue to reverberate as long as we remember the best of him; the inherent goodness, gentleness, and thoughtfulness that made him who he was and who he continues to be. “Oh death where is thy triumph? Where is thy sting?”

Empty


Feeling empty

There’s nothing to say

on my knees

asd Desolation preys

Season of winter

Still strong in my heart

Frozen and brittle

Isolated and apart

No sun warms my being

No solace to be found

Empty and disillusioned

What a fool am I

A Manic March


It’s been a tough few weeks. Moving is never fun but I am so very grateful for the people who stepped up to help. Family and friends are definitely the super glue that holds me together. Through good times and bad times they’ve been there for me to lean on, or to help celebrate life’s joys. I feel like I have been walking along a razor’s edge between these seemingly opposite emotions – one minute happy the next grief-stricken once again. Because you see, it was my younger brother, Chris, who so often stepped up to help us, whether it was moving our belongings or something as simple as a ride to the airport, he was always there for us – it’s been four months now since his death, and not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. Even through the exhaustion of moving, or perhaps especially because of that fatigue, he sprang to mind frequently. I remember when he helped us move and also made sure there was a hot supper waiting when the last load had finally been dropped at our new place. I not only appreciated his strength, I was inspired once again by his thoughtfulness.  He was an amazing brother and friend. I miss him.

So, for what it’s worth – I am back! Thank you for reading my blog and I will spare you further exposure to my grief. For those of you who know my family you know Chris was killed when an impaired driver crashed into my brother’s vehicle. So, once again, I implore all of you – never get into a vehicle with an impaired driver; and be careful on the highways and byways, for I would not wish this pain on anyone. Stay safe my friends.

Oh the joys of moving


If you read what I write I thank you.  We are in the process of moving to a new place and life is extremely busy at the moment.  Life is an unending series of adventures in this woman’s life.  I am looking forward to new experiences, new learning, and new friends. Wherever you live, whatever occupies your time these days, I wish you peace and joy.  I’ll be back!

Hills, valleys, and plateaus


On top of the hill

Where life is fine

And blessings flow

Like a soft spring rain

Joy surges and surges again

But down in the valley

Where life seems hard

And tears flow

Like plummeting waterfalls

That seem to have no end

And have within them sharpest shards

That cut deeply into the soul

Rendering it helpless and forlorn

It is then we must remember

There will be a plateau

A resting place

Where neither great joy nor great sorrow

Reaches.

The plateau

Where most of life is lived

Where we get up each day to well-known routines

The sometimes ho-hum days of existence

Where joyful blessings are taken for granted

We do not remember the blessings

Nor the pain that once had us down on our knees,

That too is forgotten in the daily grind

Of earning our bread

But the lessons of the valley and the rewards of the hills

Should never be taken for granted

During our time on the plateau

the joys should be like leavening to bread

Helping us rise once again

To a brand new day

And the pain

Serve to remind us

Of blessings

That we will know one day again

For life is a series of ups and downs

But neither lasts forever