Erin's Journals

Just a thought…

It all seems so…immaterial, so unimportant. When I sit here with my fingers poised over the keyboard, I want to share thoughts on our lives, our days, our highs and lows and yet, in the shadow of the tremendous suffering happening in Israel and neighbouring Gaza, as well as in Ukraine, of course, and too many other countries to list here, I wonder: how? How does any of this matter when so much pain and terror have gripped our fellow humans?

There’s no more that I can say in the support of innocents and victims of senseless violence and predictable retribution; people with more experience, perspective and wisdom than I have already taken space in every possible corner of the written and visual world. And so I stay quiet and wonder what else I can possibly add.

The only perspective I have for you, my friend, is that out-of-step feeling so many of us have when our lives go on. When we observe with awe a sight like this one out of our window…

…or the simple peaceful play of bright leaves dancing in the wind or gently clinging to trees. The glorious contrast of yellows and oranges against dark wet tree bark. The sparkling sights over our nearby Gulf Islands as the sun rises on a turbulent world.

It all feels so damned normal. And that is the jarring, incongruous fact of life when suffering abounds: anyone who has lost a loved one or endured a tremendous personal trauma is jolted, almost insulted, to observe life around them going on as if nothing happened. The seasons still change, the sun still rises and if we didn’t know what was happening in other parts of the world or in our own lives, we would never see that things have been altered forever.

I recall the evening of that day after Lauren died in 2015, remarking to Rob as we saw a glorious sky and the leaves and blossoms making their May arrivals in Ottawa. I said to him, “How can the world be so beautiful and so awful?” and he said, “This is how it’s always been.” And he was, and is, right.

In motherhood, like the old saying goes, your heart walks around the world outside of you. And it’s not unlike being a caring citizen of the world, worrying for the peril and suffering of those you have never met, but whose stories you’ve read, whose faces you’ve seen, whose pain, loss and terror you can barely comprehend, even on the most basic level.

So many posts call for prayer and I think, Aw, come on…if prayers worked, no one would suffer. But then I reconsider, keeping in mind how it changes me. Prayer brings peace to the one who is quietly sending thoughts instead of opinions, grounding them in their intentions and giving them consolation in the hope that their efforts may have some effect. There is so little we can do but to show and share love, compassion and to embrace our common humanity, rather than focussing on our differences. Why, oh why, in the 21^st century is it still over religion? Why so much suffering in the name of a god?

And so, with or without us, and as it always has and will, the world goes on. May peace be with you. And may we continue to be grateful for it in a world where it is but a prayer.

Just a thought… The most important things in life are the connections you make with others. [Tom Ford]

I hope you had a good Thanksgiving and that you were able to gather with those you love (and some you can tolerate for the holidays)! We were fortunate, as always, to be surrounded for our Thanksgiving dinner by those we love.

This year, the holiday didn’t coincide with our grandson’s birthday; it comes tomorrow and wraps up the Birthdaypalooza that begins with mine in September, is followed by little Jane’s (4^th this year) and then ends tomorrow with Colin’s. It’s like the 15 Days of Cakemas with a little pumpkin pie thrown into the mix. Is that a Hallmark Movie yet, Brooke?

Speaking of our daughter-in-law, as I hope you you saw on Facebook last Monday with October’s start, Brooke is reminding you that she’s taking last orders for her Christmas in Heaven lanterns. I put together a short video where Brooke describes in her own words how making these lanterns touches her own heart. You can view it at the end of today’s blog.

The next ten weeks or so include myriad celebrations (including the solemn observation that comes on Remembrance Day, of course) during which we are reminded that not everyone is fortunate to be with family or loved ones. It’s something that’s amplified when the table setting is for one, and I get that. And it’s why I wanted to share something I spotted the other day at a coffee shop in the sweet little nearby town of Sidney, BC.

As I stood near the counter, waiting for my friend to pick up her bagel, I noticed a little card. Behind it was a stack of pamphlets.

They’re pretty self-explanatory: you put the little card on your café table and hope that perhaps someone will stop by, take a seat and ask how you’re doing today.

I’d like to think that if I found myself with a coffee in my hand and some time to sit, I’d do just that; probably not putting out the card, but pulling up a seat. I’m not sure I’ve ever just gone into a shop and sat by myself unless I was waiting for someone else; I saw a meme from Thinking Minds that said, “Eating alone in a crowded restaurant is the highest level of self confidence a person can have.” Is it true for you? It certainly is for me. I think Lisa and I will discuss it on our podcast Gracefully & Frankly in weeks to come.

In the meantime, that little card was a lovely reminder to me of how making a connection can be so important. And who knows what gifts – friendship perhaps – might come our way just from saying “yes?”

Enjoy the rest of this shortened week and thank you for coming by. Tonight, a certain little Ugly Duckling (said to be an autobiographical story of sorts from Hans Christian Andersen) returns to Drift. Perhaps you’ll enjoy it on a different level now that you know that; or maybe – and this would be the best of all – you’ll just fall asleep. That’s the plan!

Be well and as promised, here’s that Christmas in Heaven lantern reminder for you.

Just a thought… Coincidence is God’s way of staying anonymous. [Author also anonymous; quote often misattributed to renowned smarty-pants Albert Einstein]

Welcome in – and thanks for sharing a few minutes here. I had to share with you a coincidence, a godwink if you will, that happened to me last week.

Around my birthday, I’m always hoping that Lauren will send a message. Sometimes if she does, I miss it; I’m usually looking for an antler-man (what I call the rare deer in our area with a lovely headdress) but sometimes it comes from someone with a big heart. In this case, it was our daughter-in-law Brooke. And it brought great big tears and took our breath away.

First, a pic I shared on social media from the party Brooke and Phil and the kidlets threw for me last Tuesday.

And here’s Hurricane Jane turning into a Category 4 on Saturday! It was wonderful.

You know by now that Brooke’s family, and Rob’s and mine, share “sisters” from the same breeder. Dottie and Sammy are three months apart in age and not from the same parents, but they’re sisters to us, and to each other. Their antics are hilarious and Dottie and Sammy both whine when their playdates are over.

Brooke is interested in their parentage and lines, easily found on the internet. It was she who learned that the two Havanese up the street from us – literally two blocks away – are Dottie’s mom and grandmother! But what she found last week was something else.

Dottie’s grandma has a half-sister (one of the same parents). When Brooke messaged me, “You’ll never guess what Dottie’s great-aunt’s name is,” I guessed Molly, a rather common name and that of a previous beloved pet of ours, and then Jane, unusual for a dog, but the middle name of one on our block and, of course, the name of Colin’s little sister.

Wrong on both counts.

Because here’s what that great-aunt’s name is:

Coconut is the nickname we all gave to Colin when he was born; Lauren was Peanut when she was a baby, and Coconut was derived from his name, Colin. It was shortened to Coco as time went on and he occasionally answers to it, even approaching nine next week.

And our daughter who gave birth to him? Lauren.

Just…wow.

This little dog of ours, born on Lauren’s birthday in 2022, has brought such laughter, love and pure joy to Rob and to me, as Sammy has to our grandkids and their parents, that it’s hard to imagine better fits for our family.

It’s almost as though it was meant to be.

Have a lovely week, and always pay attention to signs. Sometimes they are put there to keep us moving in the right direction.

Just a thought… It does not matter how slowly you go, as long as you do not stop. [Confucius, as chosen today by Taylor Kaye]

Hello – and welcome in! This year I’m doing something I’ll only ever do once, because it matters this much to me. Today is my birthday. I’m not telling you that for the warm wishes; please read on.

While Sept. 26^th brings back wonderful memories for me: my 60^th last year getting into the ocean in Hawaii, my 50^th when Lauren surprised me by showing up all the way from Ottawa, making me full-on BAWL like Lucille Ball. I recall much of my 40^th dancing on a revolving floor in the Rainbow Room of 30 Rock. Maybe it was me spinning – wish I’d been sober for that!

Anyway, the point is, September 26^th has been beyond wonderful for me. Which is why I’m turning the spotlight away from someone who’s had more than her share of happiness (me), to someone for whom this very day is one clouded in darkness.

It was on this day one year ago that everything in a joyful life changed. A dear man, a fit man, a young man who is a friend to many, but especially at CHFI and Rogers Radio where he created brilliant and funny ad campaigns, was slammed by two strokes. Today, in his early 60s, Greg Stevens remains unable to walk, to speak his beautiful mind, or to move half of his body.

Taylor Kaye, Greg’s wife, is also a close friend. She’s warm and wonderful and wacky and you probably know her name from TV and Toronto radio: after years in the Rogers fold at KiSS and CHFI, she’s doing afternoons temporarily on 104.5 CHUM-FM. As you can imagine, she and Greg’s three teen daughters are struggling.

After nine months in hospital, Greg was moved to rehab and now he’s in an assisted living facility, a modest one closer to the Stevens’s house. It’s anything but cheery: he’s surrounded by elderly and incapacitated people, and the costs of trying to get him speech therapy, physical therapy and the many extras that our health care system doesn’t cover are taking Taylor out at the knees.

It’s all so disheartening, and Rob and I aren’t even a part of the family’s day-to-day. Just three weeks ago, Greg was rushed to hospital, unconscious after a seizure and when he awoke the next day, he cried as he learned all over again about the strokes that had taken away everything but his mind and his great big heart.

And so today I’m appealing to your big heart. There is a gofundme for Taylor and her family. If you want to give to help Taylor and Greg and their three daughters, however much you can, and anonymously if you’d like, I offer this gift today, my birthday gift to Taylor. She is drowning with twice-daily visits, trying to buoy Greg’s spirits amidst her own devastation. I figure that the least I can do is reach out a hand, right?

The family’s friends set up this account and it’s totally secure and above-board. I promise you that. It’s been helping the family in many small ways and how I wish the Let’s Talk folks at Bell had therapy for Taylor to access to help keep her sanity, but she’s considered part-time at Bell Media. 10 years and part-time. Sigh. Let’s Talk, indeed.

But one year in, donations are waning and their need for help has grown; if Greg is going to have any semblance of a life, the path stretching out ahead is long and arduous with plenty of detours and roadblocks, as Taylor has endured in the past month.

Pray if you do, but please give if you can. Both are appreciated! Here’s the link. From the bottom of my heart – and Taylor and her Special Kayes – thank you. Love you, Taylor, Greg and girls.

Love you, too. Thanks for sharing this day with me.

Just a thought… People plan; airlines laugh. [Erin and Rob]

I’m a big fan of stoicism (thanks in part to Lisa Brandt, my Gracefully & Frankly partner) and Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. I try to pass it on where I can, as in the case of a woman who has written a few times this past week asking me how I keep a smile on my face. I told her that basically the wisdom I put in place, as often as I can remember, is this: “Okay, that happened. Now what are you going to do about it?”

It often works, but if you’re someone who enjoys travel, as we do, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to adopt that air of serenity.

Airlines are letting us down regularly and often in big ways. I’ll give you the most recent example we’ve seen: our friend was here last week from Toronto. He has a health issue that is extremely complicated, but is centered around digestion. It’s for that reason that he has to recline on long flights or he’s in extreme discomfort.

After Matthew left us on Thursday, as is often part of the fun of travelling from an island, he had a stopover in Vancouver. It was there that he learned Air Canada had flat-out cancelled his flight and another to Toronto that day. And the news got worse: if he was to fly in a reclining seat, he’d have to wait TWO DAYS to leave. Well, that wasn’t happening.

So, 12 hours after he was scheduled to catch his connector to YYZ, Matthew was seated in the last row of a red-eye (overnight) flight home. I can’t imagine the pain he endured.

But it got even worse: when he arrived in Toronto, he found he’d been separated from an expensive piece of equipment that was supposed to accompany him. Unfortunately, Matthew didn’t have AirTags (he’s an Apple user like us) but after long hours of stress, he was reunited with his possessions.

These stories are more and more common; last year in November, I had a flight to Toronto, with a brief planned stopover in Edmonton. That was the day WestJet had a system-wide computer failure, and I ended up spending seven hours at YEG. When I finally arrived in Toronto in the wee hours of the next morning, I  discovered (because we have AirTags) that my luggage was still in Edmonton.

I’d planned to fly in early to host a day-long event (to guard against just such a travel delay), but my luggage took nearly 36 hours to catch up with me, so I had to do a little shopping in order to make myself presentable on stage.

Fortunately, months later, WestJet reimbursed me for the inconvenience and for the few hundred dollars I’d had to spend, but this year as I head back, we’ve decided we’re not going to chance that airline again.

Instead, I’ve booked a solo seat on a direct flight (a rarity) from Victoria to Toronto on…wait for it…Porter Airlines. No, it’s not the usual Dash-8 one would hop on to get to Ottawa from Toronto’s island airport; it’s almost full-size with four regular-width seats per row and a price tag that is far, far lower than Air Canada or WestJet offer for seats up front.

With no connections to make in the often uncertain weather conditions that November in Canada can present, we feel quite confident that I’ll get to my job without making it on CBC News, as I did last year, after posting online about being delayed due to computer failure, and then arriving at YYZ without my luggage.

So much of life is out of our control; all we can do is try to learn from our mistakes. Matthew got home and I’m sure by now his body clock has adjusted and he has purchased those tiny GPS discs. But like ours, his trust in the companies that at least used to give the illusion of caring for our well-being has eroded.

Mine certainly has, so we’ll try another option. And I promise to let you know how it all goes – either here or at our Gracefully and Frankly podcast. If you haven’t listened yet, our latest is really frank: I talk about breast implants I had in my 30s, one of which literally went sideways and, even gone, continues to cause me icepack-level nerve pain all these years later.

But you don’t need sleepless nights, and that’s why I do a gentle podcast called Drift with Erin Davis sleep stories. New tomorrow: Chapter Three of Winnie the Pooh in which he and Piglet think they’re after a woozle (or twoozle)! It’s free (as is G&F) thanks to enVypillow.com and if you use the code Drift or GF, you’ll get 10% off anything you choose. Talk to you again soon!