Recently I have been reflecting on how I tend to be preoccupied with worry. However, I realize that ruminating in some cases bring me joy for example, when I am replaying a memory that warms my heart.
I remember seeing a video my daughter in law was kind enough to send me of my 3 yr old grand-daughter opening a Valentine card I mailed her and she takes her time trying not to tear the card inside, seeing it as a gift to her and once she opens it she shouts, “It’s a HOLIDAY! Thank you, Nana!” How quickly such delightful moments escape us when we are trying to record that moment…
pen to paper that brief moment put into words
pen to paper recalling that joy freezing an image alas! the moment has passed! like a butterfly in flight
I have since found a marvelous way to hold on to such memories. I relive them several times in my mind and whenever I need to take a 5 minute break to relax and get my “joyful fix”, I close my eyes and focus only on these blessed moments. I have several of my personal real life videos banked in the front drawer of my brain. Try this “fail free” practice of visiting joy at your leisure…and breathe [smiles].
November often is filled with grey skies, fallen leaves and cold rain that often turns to snow. It is a time of transition between cool to cold, between vibrance versus calm and rest. Mother Earth needs a rest and will wrap us soon with a white blanket…Some people are excited for the holidays but many feel melancholy, missing loved ones far away or no longer here. Some are living in a past that is missed, others look forward to the joys of holiday gatherings, good food and children’s eyes twinkling with excitement.
At my age, I’ve been blessed with archives of many joys and here are just a few…
Sitting by the riverside, waiting for the sun to set
willows weep with joy last sights of nature’s beauty sun dips below silent nestlings tucked in robin does her last round
sunset dips beneath blue azure fluid hues of joy
So many joys to share…moments in time linger in my memory.
The first time you learn you are pregnant after years of trying. I remember not believing the pharmacist and asked him to write it down on the receipt to show my husband. My legs were shaking so much, giggling nervously and I could not drive for a good fifteen minutes.
I remember thechallenges of being a first time homeowner. One morning, my husband had to call the contractor for help when our basement was flooded. I just kept smiling…Iwas in my own world because I felt my baby move in my belly for the very first time.
Hearing the crunch underfoot walking on that first snowfall. Making snow angels and tasting snowflakes on my tongue. Hearing my grandson giggle when I slipped and fell in the snow. Hearing my grand-daughter respond to my ”Te amo”…with ”Mucho mucho!”…a joy that makes the heart melt with so much love.
Seeing my grandchildren wave and smile at me on video chat!! Even technology can bring me joy!
The first time my child says, “Mummy” My adult child that says“I love you, Mom!” Grandchildren saying, “I love you Nana!”
A struggling youth in such pain ends his call with me, “You give me hope”
Toddler walking barefoot on the grass for the first time, lifting his foot because it tickles.
night unveils new dawn dewdrops on soft petals sun kissed skies
Memories transport me to another time…
sitting on a park bench giggling children joy painted on their lips
sitting on a park bench swallows chirp telling stories
giggling children skipping, running joyfully tag you’re it
joy painted on their lips brings new life to any day how the spirit glows!
Awakened Christmas moring discovering Santa’s surprise under the tree. Eavesdropping from my bed, “But how did he know?!” my heart bathed in love, weeping tears of joy…
Carols echoing Adeste Fidele…such moments of delight! Yesterday’s joys, born again, I smile anew!
Valentine’s is supposed to be about love and couples but since I had my children 4 decades ago, it was more about LOVE for anyone who is very special to you, especially my immediate family.
I remember cutting out Valentine cards to share at school to those “special people” …if it was someone, we had a little crush on, we did not sign it. I also helped my children cut theirs out as well and in this generation, they seem to include more people. I am hoping that is indicative of the world we now live in…to be kind to one another…to show support and caring.
The media shows us the opposite because unfortunately “tragedy sells.” Yet, with all that has been going on in the world in the past two years, I am sick of giving attention to sadness, cruelty, and hardships. I am not saying I want to live in a bubble, but I/we DO need balance…knowing about kindness and how wonderful many people have come forward to help one another warms my heart and that too should be in the media…not just an addendum at the end of the news.
One thing I have loved doing in the past few years is writing my own greeting cards and sending them out to some friends far and near…mostly friends who live alone like me.
I do not know about you but when I get something in the mail, I get so excited…I run upstairs and put the envelope on the dining room table and make myself a cuppa tea and then I sit down and savour it. Sometimes it is one line and other times it is a bit longer but the fact that someone cared enough to write something on paper, put it in an envelope, sealed it with love, addressed it with care and attention, put a stamp and walked or drove to drop it off in a mailbox means so much!
I had another selfish reason to do this as well. It inspires me to write a poem and talk in writing to a friend, and forcing me to walk to the nearest mailbox which is 1 km away…so it is also beneficial to my physical and mental health to walk which is something I have not done much this winter especially since my fall early in January. It made me wary of walking on icy sidewalks.
I often try to spread out the cards so I have to go out more often.
This is a troiku (new form of haiku created by Chevrefeuille, at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai I wrote a few days ago, that made me think of my friends this valentine week.
greyness lingers lockdowns hold us prisoners when will winter leave?
greyness lingers looking for a bit of light shining in my heart
lockdowns hold us prisoners soon the days shall pass Oh, see the light shine
when will winter leave? thankful for a caring friend brightens every day
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.
[…] “Let the beauty of what you love be what you do.” […] Rumi
There is no question the love she has for her children and their children; they are from her, a part of her extending into the future. And as she is like a daisy with each petal depicts the multiplicity of her personality, hence, several petals group together forming another passion…her love of reaching out to those in need.
pain bleeds
late in the night – and then,
gentle sigh of relief
sweetens the night air
voice of comfort
Tournesol dans un Jardin 