Tag Archives: canada

happiness

The Coke shirts 

Last year as we began palliative care with Dad, I went to the store and bought matching Coke shirts for him and Jacob. They were always such a tight team those two, and were delighted to have the same outfit (with matching PJ bottoms). 

I was folding laundry this afternoon and pulled one of the Coke shirts out of the basket to fold.  I haven’t seen it in almost a year – I assume it was too painful for Jacob to wear. I was so happy to see it out now. We all seem to be walking into this week with smiles and sorrow. 

Some of the smiles come from remembering my aunts and uncles (his sisters and brothers in law), who along with one of my cousins made the trek out here to see him in his last days. 

Sad as it was, we had so much fun with them. Jacob was so delighted to find out the family gift  is really a thing and that it is something to be laughed about. He still talks about that discovery regularly. He takes pride in developing his abilities. 

The love that was sent to my dad (and us) from family near and far was amazing. It reconnected me with cousins, we shared stories and enjoyed that deep connection that blood brings no matter where you are. 

In a bittersweet happiness moment I sat with that Coke shirt and remembered how much my Dad loved Jacob. 

This is another one of Dad’s photos. Taken along a road that he and Mom used to walk often. 

Standard
happiness

I’ll wait for you under the bluebells 

I had a good friend remind me today that love never ends. Just because someone is gone does not mean we stop loving them. I remember thinking a year ago at this time as we watched Dad start to slip away that I was so grateful for unconditional love. I knew that not only did I have it here, but that once he was gone that love would stay. 

I feel so frustrated sometimes, so much has happened this year. I’ve had all these spiritual challenges and miracles happen and it’s all the kind of thing I would have talked with him about as we walked the ridge. I still go outside and talk away, andI know he’s listening because I can feel him with me, and God keeps opening doors that I’ve thought were locked. But still. I’d sure love a face to face chat. 

I don’t think I’ve ever cried so much in my life as I have this past year, or sworn, or given thanks. I know for sure it has left me so grateful for where I am and the direction I’m heading. 

This is another one of Dad’s photos. I can imagine him sitting out in a field of bluebells. 


We had snow this morning. Gotta love Alberta – Mother Nature does what she wants. I had to send the kids out to beat snow off of our precious lilac bush. My happiness moment was warching them stand under the trees and beat the snow. Of course it all landed on them which lead to much laughing and shouting. 

Standard
happiness

Geese in the sunset

I went out for a walk this evening that turned into a bonus happiness moment. I love where I live. Tonight I felt such peace and bliss as I walked my road with my dog. I feel more secure and stable with every step I make. We are walking  into a fantastic new life. 

A sure sign of spring. Calves in the yard.   

 Cows on the hill 

 

Geese flying into the sunset  
 
This one is from last night but it was much the same tonight. God’s beauty reflected in our world. 

  

Standard
happiness

Who’s who? My dad

I spent a lot of time today with the memory of my dad. I feel like the past few weeks have been so filled fending off the poisoned barbs of hatred that I kind of lost focus on letting in the things that are really important to me.

My dad was one of the things that was really important to me. He wasn’t perfect, but he was such an influential person in my life. He was exceptionally unreasonable during my teenage years (I have no idea why…) and we could really get into it sometimes, but through it all I knew that he loved me unconditionally and always had my back.

Actually, my parents were/are such great examples of what unconditional love is. Even when I’ve been at my most lost and scattered, they have always provided me with a safe place to land. That security of having people who are there for me no matter what is so important, it gives me the freedom to take chances and explore who I am and what my purpose is.

After Dad died I had a lot of friends and family come up to me and express their gratitude for things that Dad had done for them. He had often stepped in and given support, and frequently free legal advice as well, to the people in our lives. He not only provided me with that sense of security and trust, but he gave it freely to so many others as well. He lived with a sense of abundance, not holding onto his knowledge or love, but spreading it around because there was enough for everyone.

He showed me what to expect from a man. Someone who not only worked hard and was successful at his career (and he was very successful), but who lived with integrity, spent time with his family, laughed, loved, and jumped full on into life. I think I took it for granted that because this was my experience all dads are like this. I will never take that for granted again. They’re not.

He not only took great interest in the things that we were doing – I can think of him sitting for hours listening as I babbled on about whatever was my current obsession, probably wanting to stab his eyeballs out, but smiling and encouraging – but he shone that same love and support on his grandchildren. My kids still talk daily about things they did with grandpa and how much they miss his presence. The way he lived his life has made a huge impression on Jacob, and he talks often about becoming the kind of man grandpa was. Jacob is already a good, honest young man. I have no doubt he will make his grandpa proud.

I realize the older I get how exceptional my dad was. I’m realizing in fact how exceptional my entire family is. I don’t know how it happened, but I won the awesome family lottery in that I have this ready made tribe of people who are so strong, loving and kind.

My mom sent me an email this afternoon letting me know that my dad was listed in this year’s Canadian Who’s Who. It’s so wonderful to read about his accomplishments, but to me his real achievement was the kind of person he was. The way he lived his life is something I can hold onto and aspire to. I will always have his tendency to have temper meltdowns (blow it out and move on), but that’s part of being human. To live with an open heart so that people can trust and depend on you as my dad did – that’s a real life achievement.

 

 I miss you Dad xox

Standard
happiness

Early spring

Days like today are the reason why I find March to be such a challenging month. My body already thinks it should be spring, I’ve got friends posting photos of flowers popping up (ah to be on Vancouver Island), and it seems like things have been either white or brown for a very long time. Then we get this warmer weather (actually we’ve had a lot of warmer weather lately) and I start to get fooled into thinking it’s spring. I get all happy and believe that this will be the year that spring comes at a decent time in Alberta. Then, without warning, March arrives and the temperatures go down to -30C. But, ever the optimist I get sucked in every year believing that it’s going to be different.

Maybe it will be this year. I hope so….

I decided to play hooky from my work this afternoon and I grabbed the dog and headed out for a walk along the ridge. I always have lots of memories pop up on this walk. I remember galloping across the field on Pirate, walking with my dad, tobogganing down the hill, and swimming in the creek. It’s one of my favourite places to be. I had to stop part way through and just breathe in the beauty of home. I am so grateful that we are here. We are home, safe, and surrounded by loved ones.

My happiness moment. There’s no place like home. 

Standard
happiness

Swan memories of Dad

I spent last night and most of today down for the count with a stomach virus. Not a lot of fun, but I’m grateful that I was able to rearrange life so I could take some time and get rid of it. This morning Jenna (who has the week off of school) came into my room, hopped under the covers of my bed, and snuggled up with me.

We talked about how when the kids were little and one of them was feeling sick they would pile in bed with me and we would cuddle until things were better again. There is nothing like a good snuggle with someone you love to make the rainbows come and brighten things up.

While we were lying there, my cousin texted me that the swans were back on the lake by their cabin. When I see swans I think of spring and of my Dad. He was always so excited to see them come – because it meant the end of winter and because it meant he could take some great photos. It’s hard to believe we are looking at another spring coming, which will mean he will have been gone for a year soon. What a year this has been!

I thought the girl snuggles were going to be my happiness moment, but the text about swans left me with Dad on my mind all day today. Jenna and I were driving into town so she could have a sleepover at her Grandma’s and she started talking about my Dad and some of her memories of him. It was a beautiful moment to share as she laughed about how he would flip her on her raft at the creek, and how he took her out for wildflower walks (my dad knew the names of all the flowers and very patiently spent years teaching us about them. Later on he began taking breathtaking photos of the flowers). Naturally I started to cry, but it was so wonderful to share those loving memories with my girl. I’m so glad she has these to hold in her heart. Dad loved his grandkids (and his whole family) so much, he worked really hard to make a lasting impression on us all – and succeeded.

These photos of the swans near our place are ones Dad took  3 and 4 years ago. He loved being out there with his camera!

  
The happiness moment today was sharing fond memories of my Dad. I miss him so much there is an ache in my heart, but I am so thankful for his presence in my life. Soon the swans will be here too and I will be out with the kids and my Mom watching them and thinking about our memories of my Dad.

And just in case I forgot how much I love being back home, God put on an amazing show this morning:

The view from our front yard this morning. 


Standard
happiness

Urgent care 

I’m so grateful that we live where we do when one of us is in need of medical attention. It is such a refreshing change to go into the doctor, urgent care, or the hospital and have them ask what it is that brings you in today, or what is wrong, instead of what is your insurance.

Jacob hit the wall yesterday. Literally, hit the wall. He was running while playing indoor soccer in gym class and a kid pushed him as he was going by. Jacob flew into the wall bashing his left side and left leg against the concrete. When I picked him up he was sore, and it seemed to get worse as the night went on. When he woke up he was in considerable pain and I decided that he should be checked out (I was mostly concerned about internal damage or a cracked rib).

Off we went to Urgent Care in Cochrane. That place has been a godsend, we have been there a few times over the past year and every single time the staff has been incredibly kind and helpful. Because we were there early we were quickly brought in and given a room and had a nurse checking him out right away.

I was glad I took him in as they also were concerned about where his pain was. There was a resident doctor who came in and spent a lot of time moving him this way and that, asking him (him not me) questions, and generally checking him out. I was impressed that as she was poking him on his sides to see where it hurt, she was focusing on his face to watch for his pain reaction.

They did everything – urine test, drew blood, X-rays, and lots of manual examinations.

After a while the senior doctor came in and introduced herself (although she didn’t remember me I had met her on a previous visit and had been so impressed with her bedside manner. I was glad she was one of the people who were looking after us). She told us that it was the resident’s first day running the area and that she was mostly there to just keep an eye on things. Then she did a full examination of Jacob as well.

I was really impressed, because after her examination she brought the resident back in. She showed her a couple of tests she had done on Jacob – they were worried about his spleen and she had moved him a couple of different ways to see his reaction. Then she went over what the resident had done and told her what a great and thorough job she was doing. Good teachers are such a blessing and this lady is absolutely one of them. She seemed like the kind of person you could easily learn from, and leave an experience feeling smarter and better about yourself.

We ended up being sent in for an ultrasound just to rule out any issue with any internal organs. Fortunately it seems he’s just bruised and banged up and is in need of some extra TLC for the weekend (so he packed a bag and went to his Grandma’s house where he knew he would be spoiled rotten).

My happiness moment was realizing the blessing we have of having such a great medical team so close to where we live. It makes me feel so safe and secure knowing that there is this group of people who are really interested in making sure that we are well taken care of and brought back to our healthy state of being.

I’m so thankful for this place. I hope we don’t have to keep visiting it, but I’m glad it’s there!

Standard
happiness

The elephant on my back

I have this spot in the middle of my back, between my shoulder blades, where all of my sad emotions live. You may know the area, it’s the back of my heart chakra – although it took me a little while to put that together.

The first time I noticed it was 9 years ago when my beloved childhood pony Pirate died. I was living in Quebec at the time so I wasn’t able to be with him in his last days, but he was in very loving care with family back here in Alberta. After he passed, my back seized up, I felt the elephant arrive and step hard on the middle of my back. I ended up being bedridden with pain for a few days – not a good thing as I had small children to care for.

Since then every time something really sad happens, or I’m under incredible amounts of stress that elephant comes back. During the worst of the dark night of the soul, it was there as a constant reminder of how unhappy I was. Over the past couple of years I’ve been able to rid myself of that elephant except in the most dire of cases.

The elephant came back after my Dad died, but that time it sat on my hip and pelvic area for a couple of days making it almost impossible for me to move around. At least that time I was kind of expecting the elephant’s visit. I was feeling and flowing my grief emotions, but they were so intense I knew that there would be some kind of acknowledgement from my body as to what I was feeling.

I wasn’t sure how Christmas and New Year’s would be this year without Dad. This season has always been such an important family time for us, and over the past 10 years it’s often been the only time we have been able to be home and visit with loved ones. Christmas actually ended up being a delightful day, filled with laughter and love. Thank goodness for those children who let their love shine so brightly and lighten up the dark clouds of grief. My elephant stayed away and I was feeling so grateful for that. I’ve been really focusing on feeling and allowing all the grief to come through and then letting it pass on out.

That old saying pride goeth before the fall definitely is true for me, as the day before New Years Eve I woke up feeling horrible with a sore throat and that elephant perched firmly in the middle of my back. I home remedied away my sore throat (apple cider vinegar works wonders, I also used raw honey and dried ginger) in short order, but I couldn’t shake that darn elephant. Usually he perches on my back for a good week before I can get rid of that trampled feeling so I was pretty upset – there was still a lot of Christmas vacation things that I wanted to enjoy.

That day Jenna and I ended up going to the Apple Store to have them fix her computer that I had fried (it’s like doing a bad home dye job – I only will do that once and from now get the professionals to do their job), and we spent some time walking around. An aromatherapy store called Escents finally has opened at Market Mall and we went in to check it out. I’ve been using DoTerra for years (and love them), but I’ve had some difficulty changing my account to a Canadian one, and with our low dollar here right now I’m not in a huge rush to have things shipped from the States anyway. The fact that Escents is Canadian is an added bonus.

I ended up purchasing their Rescue Relief Gel on the faint hope that it would offer some relief.

 

When we got home I announced I was going for a nap and had Jenna rub some of the Rescue gel on my back before I laid down. When I got up an hour later I was amazed that I felt about 60% better. I could move my shoulders and I could breathe without it hurting. She rubbed some more gel on, and by the time I went to bed that night I was almost back to my old self. I have never ever had something work so effectively.

I’m now using it on my lower back and hip area where I store all my stress and fear in huge balls of painful muscle knots to see what it can do there.

I was so pleased to find something that actually helped relieve that damn elephant. It was a good indicator that I still have a lot of grief emotions that I need to deal with and release, but at least I don’t have to have the intense physical pain while I’m doing that.

Standard
happiness

Being Canadian

I have always loved being a Canadian, specifically an Albertan, but I love my entire country. I mean, it’s awesome. I may not always be able to describe exactly why it is the best place in the world to live, but I believe it to the bottom of my soul.

When I was trying to figure out what to become when I grow up in my 20s (not knowing that I would be in my 40s and still not know the answer to that question), I fell in love with Canadian History. I took every class I could until I ended up with my B.A. in the subject. It may not be extremely useful in my every day life (especially those 8 years I lived in the States), but I really enjoyed it. One of the best parts was that it gave me a much better understanding of what Canada is (or is not).

I spent some time today watching the documentary Being Canadian, where Robert Cohen took a trip across Canada to answer the question what does it mean to be Canadian? It seems that what he discovered is that  it is almost impossible to explain exactly what it means to be Canadian. This identity of having a non-identity is something that is really difficult to explain to people who aren’t from Canada – something I learned during my time in the States. 

I too bonded with other Canadians while living in the States for the sole reason that we were both Canadian. It was something that had to be mentioned, the same as there is always some kind of acknowledgement when I come across a fellow Lefty. A kind of relief in knowing that you’re not the only one floating around out there.

Also, the fact they had an entire segment about the Beachcombers was incredibly awesome. 

I proudly kept my Canadian sorry in my vocabulary until after living in Southern Virginia, I finally gave it up. I was shocked to live in a place where when someone bumped into me and I said oh, sorry they would grunt at me that yes I should be, now get the *** out of my way. I’m happy to say that I have my sorry back now that I’m home again.

 

 

I watched the documentary (thrilled that since he’s also from Calgary he spent a little longer there, no offense Toronto, but I was glad that you weren’t the centre of the universe…. sorry) and it got me thinking about what it means for me to be Canadian.

I have strong Canadian roots on both sides of my family. Of course since we are all immigrants, that only goes so far… But, my Dad’s side has old standing in Ontario – I came home from my Canadian history class one day and told my Dad we were learning about the Northway store and he was like oh yeah, that was your great grandfather’s store. And my mom’s family was one of the first to settle out here in Alberta.

I have always identified very strongly and proudly as a Canadian and it thrills me to be back in my country and raising my kids in our Canadian culture (whatever that is).

So what does it mean to me to be Canadian? Well it means my prairie/foothills/mountain roots in Calgary. It means time on the ranch that was started by my great-grandparents and continues on now with my uncle, aunt, and cousins. It means horseback riding and freedom.

It means summers with family at the creek

It means going to the Canada Day Parade in Canmore and celebrating how awesome it is to be Canadian.

It means going to the Stampede (the kids here with my uncle when we were at the rodeo last year). 
It means going branding and being a part (a limited part since a lot of this cow stuff is totally out of my wheelhouse, but I love it) of learning what makes the ranch work. It’s important we know our heritage. 

It means tobogganing down the hill by the barn while the horses watch


It means having your kid throw snowballs at you while you’re unloading groceries from the car (not off the dogsled)

It means beautiful skies and unexpected snowstorms.

It means Santa Claus Parades in our hometown. It also means being closer to the North Pole and all of Santa’s goodies.  

Pure and simple, it means home. It is security, love, peacefulness, kindness, humour, and a place where I am truly blessed to live.

Ok, maybe that is just what it means to me to be Albertan. However,  I think one of the best things I did was live in Quebec for 2 years. I actually think there should be an exchange program between our two provinces where everyone has to spend some time in each other’s provinces. I loved living in Quebec and some of my greatest friendships were made there.

My happiness moment today: watching something that made me sit down and think about how much I truly appreciate this wonderful place that I call home.

Standard
happiness

Canadian stereotype 

We had a perfectly stereotypical Canadian day today, one that involved all the good things that come to mind when people think of Canadians.

It started this morning at Tim Hortons (as any good Canadian morning does) with a really nice gentleman holding the door for us. Actually, as Jacob and I were walking to the store, a SUV pulled up in front of us and as it slowed to a rolling stop a man jumped out of the vehicle, did a hop and a skip and a slip on the ice; and headed for Timmy’s. He reached the door and there was a lady behind him, and then Jacob and I behind her. He stood and held the door open for all of us, then Jacob held the second door open for him (proud mama moment, how great of him to return the kindness),  and then he insisted that we all go ahead of him.

As we were standing in line I joked with him about his fast exit from the car. He laughed and said that he probably shouldn’t do those while it was so icy out, but that life needed some adventure. He went on to say how much he loved winter, loved being outside, and had spent 22 hours since Wednesday shovelling snow.

I shuddered and said I wasn’t acclimated yet to the winter and wasn’t sure I was going to be. He said there were two important things that got him through the cold weather. He lifted up his leg, turned his jeans inside out and said fleece lined jeans, they’re the best invention. Then he went on to add although the very best way to keep warm outside is to get up, keep on your flannel pyjamas, and then just put your clothes on over top of them.

It was so nice to start the morning off talking to someone who was so happy. I love too how all of our happiness is different, how we each need to find it in our own way. Those things that made him so happy aren’t what would particularly get me all excited, but it certainly was his thing.

Tonight Jenna and I downloaded Jann Arden’s new Christmas album A Jann Arden Christmas. Her voice, it is so beautiful… it makes my soul happy.  I  saw her live when we lived in Montreal and it was probably the best concert I’ve ever been to. In this time where grounding and stability are playing such a huge role in our lives, it’s a huge bonus that she’s a local artist. Nice to have such great talent close by, a good reminder that we produce great things here.

To keep it fully Canadian, we also listened to a little of Anne Murray’s Christmas album. Her songs take me back to childhood and that is important this year especially. Dad was a big Anne Murray fan and I have lots of memories of us listening to her music together. I miss him, but he sure managed to leave us a lot of great things to remember him by. Anne Murray may be one of the bigger Canadian stereotypes, and that’s a good thing. There’s a lot of comfort in that which is familiar. Her music reminds me of childhood, laughter and fun.

My happiness moment today was the knowledge in my soul that we are here, we are home, we are safe. The good Canadian stereotypes are something I am proud of – the politeness, the thoughtfulness, that will take you a long way. Life is good.

Standard