For years she prided herself with reading and watching the news all over the world. Then, 9/11 happened. It felt just too close to home. How could she continue practicing her profession and remaining genuine in her words and in her voice if she was, herself, alarmed at times?
And so she cut out many forms of media only limiting news when she sought it in cyberspace. This way she could make more room for her mind to think rather than be drawn into areas not of her choice.
Television was then cut out altogether and and writing emptied her mind of distracting thoughts until she learned to pray and meditate. Chanting her mantra allowed her to shut out distracting thoughts…travelling more alone…walks in nature alone…allowed her to take those first baby steps into “being”. She felt less alone in her solitude than in crowds of people. Now if only, she could sing as beautifully as those angelic youthful voices in a choir…
The heat weighed the house all night long. She couldn’t to believe how hot it was as she tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable position and keeping in the right position on so the warm air from the fan could cool her body.
She was visiting her best fried in the country and she could not get over how hot it still was at 4am! “You would think in the country, the night air would cool,” she thought. Suffering from insomnia for years, she tried reading until her eyes were heavy but as soon as she shut the light, her eyes sprung open. She tried watching a movie on her tablet using the precious wifi on her cell phone…she had not asked for the password of her friend’s wifi because she knew her friends did not have a great plan due to their location in their neck of the woods, they were limited to any kind of technology.
She took out her tablet and decided to write. “May as well be productive,” she thought. If she could not sleep, well, her muse may as well suffer like her. She managed to write two poems to a prompt on a haiku meme site. She was pleased…perhaps writing n her journal may dull the senses and she will be able to sleep a few hours at least. She wanted to get up early to help her sister start cleaning their late mother’s house so they could finally put it up for sale.
Perhaps she will see the sun rise…oh, no, she forgot, it was cloudy and the forecast was thunderstorms all day and evening which would make the temperatures drop 10 degrees. Good! Dropping from 35 to 25C would be a blessing. She checked her phone for the temperature and it was 22C outside apparently…but not on the second floor of this wooden two-story house!
meditating
whispering her mantra
spirits take over
He crawled on his hands and knees and made me laugh; he tickled me until my tummy muscles hurt; he took me on car rides in wooded areas…just he, me and
my sister. He played the mean old man just for fun so he could quickly turn into my saviour and took me in his arms to rescue me. He was my saint and still is my saint to whom I pray when I feel frightened and vulnerable…Merci, Grand-Papa! You also passed Father’s Day weekend, giving me, every year, time to truly thank you for being in my life.
He pushed me and encouraged me and instilled determination and hard work. He believed in me and knew I was smart and could do better. He wanted more than me sometimes and yet, he made me see my potential. He was fond of me and even named his daughter after me. Thank you Mr. Lagacé, for being a teacher who saw more in me than I could fathom…I succeeded despite many obstacles…I DID it and you planted the seed.
He looks upon me with pride; the love he feels is overwhelming. He’s gentle; he’s funny and makes me feel so special. I even feel a bit possessive with he has girlfriends and wonder if I will lose my place…he protected me from wolves and walked me down the aisle as my “dad” at my wedding. He will always be a Dad to me. Bonne Fête des Pères, Bernie.
How I loved my Fridays after school! I’d go with Jane and have supper with her family. If I was late or did not go, he would say,”Where is Lynn? It’s Friday!” He taught me to be proud of my slender (lanky to me silhouette); He convinced me to stop nail-biting so I could one day show off my engagement ring on my finger. (That actually worked at the young age of 13!) He counted me as one of his daughters…for a night or two or three sometimes…Thank you, Mr. Wilkins for making me feel special.
He took me for my first drink after winning a college scholarship at 17 years old. He stood by Mom when I walked down the aisle, with pride. He paced the floors for hours when I was in labour…he was always there…Thank you Fred for making Mom feel so loved and for being a Dad to me. You left us June 18th and making this year even more memorable, on Father’s Day. I love you and still miss you, Fred.
It took me 45 years to feel that specialness a “Dad” can bestow on an older daughter. Remember those teenage years and young adulthood when you were in love? Remember when your father wanted to “check him out” to make sure your heart would not be broken. Well, I was a late bloomer! I remember when I lived with my aunt and uncle and sometimes I would hang up the phone and say, “Oh, gee I have a date. What am I going to wear?” He would smile and sit on the couch with his lovely mate (Ma Tante Mae) who was as excited as me. The fashion show would commence and he’d look, smile and sometimes raise an eyebrow. The raised eyebrow was probably a more sexy outfit 😉 He would tell me discreetly, “Be careful not to fall head over heels too quickly and get hurt.” To which I would say, “I may need your shoulder to cry on if that happens.” And I did and he was there. Thank you Uncle Fred for being such a cool and understanding dad!
And Dad, no matter how distant our relations were over the years, I still remember how special I felt if you would “Wink” or say, “How’s it going, Kiddo?” and my heart would melt. I know you were always proud of us and in those last few years you mellowed and you let me see a softer side of you. I love you, Dad!
Happy Father’s Day to fathers world wide and for those special men who really make a difference with their selfless love.
Tournesol dans un Jardin 