Erin's Journals

Just a thought… Seeing is believing, but sometimes the most real things in the world are the things we can’t see. [The Conductor, The Polar Express, written by Chris Van Allsburg]

And here it is, Christmas Eve. For many, what should be the most wonderful night of the year is truly a silent night: no big family gatherings, memories cherished rather than made, dinners for two or even one, rather than a table laid out like a Downton Abbey banquet.

We used to call these feasts a spread. But, of course, this year, it’s upon stopping or preventing a spread that we have our highest sights set. And so, many sacrifice togetherness at Christmas in hopes that 2021 brings with it the prospect of gathering safely again one day soon.

When I look back at what the year to which we are soon to say good-bye (and for many, a hearty “good riddance”) has brought and wrought, there is one gift that we all opened through the year: connection.

“Connection?” you ask, as you ponder where best to sit or the right time to do that Zoom call tonight or tomorrow. But stay with me. How many people had even heard of Zoom (as a noun or more recently a verb) before isolation was forced upon – or begged of – us? Very few. Of course, other apps have been in existence or popped up in the past months, and I’m talking about all of them in general.

We became, as a data analyst I spoke with a few weeks ago for a podcast put it, “technical immigrants.” Many of us learned how to connect via video with our families or our co-workers; some of us even hosted events or conducted interviews through the myriad tech wonders that came out this year! The learning curve was steep, but thankfully we had the time and the quiet, most of us, to sit and figure it out. And we stayed connected.

Where I thought I’d be perched on a couch for a face-to-face chat or standing at a podium, I was instead set up in a quiet corner of the house with lights, makeup, lashes – the whole thing – and doing what I love: answering and asking questions. Staying in touch in all new ways. Because we had to.

We found ourselves closer to others in isolation this year, too. While in-person visits were strongly discouraged, as they are now, we found ourselves dropping off gift bags or thermal bags of warm food for our friends and family. There was something about being restricted in our access to those for whom we care that made us think of them and wonder if there was anything they needed. The kindness that emerged when we stopped rushing, just for a bit, was a wonder to behold. It was the gift that grew as the year went on: we asked ourselves if everyone else was okay and what we could do to make sure their lives were a little easier.

A great many people have suffered this past year, and not the least of those pains felt was loneliness. Christmas just seems to shine the brightest light, not only on the joy of the season, but on the darkness that surrounds you when you’re not wrapped in the gentle company of the ones you love.

Grief – and yes, many are grieving – breaks your heart wide open and while you will never find every shard and successfully put it back in its place, what you will learn is that the holes that are left, no matter what size, leave you open to giving and receiving more love. To sharing more compassion. To feeling not only your own pain and suffering – as so many do at this moment – but to empathize and consider what others may be going through. And that empathy takes you out of your own, however briefly. I promise you that.

And so tonight at 6 o’clock Christmas Eve (in your own time zone, wherever that may be) remember the ringing of the bells mentioned here last week. Stand on your porch, your balcony, wherever you can and make a joyful sound – and yes, there are plenty of apps for that – a spirited jingle that will not only help Santa find his way for the kids, but remind the rest of us that there will always be reasons to ring bells.

In times of joy, in times of sorrow, the bells ring. Tonight this sound will also connect us in ways of gratitude towards the women and men who are working through the holidays and who have sacrificed much – including their own health in some cases – to ensure we have ours.

Once again, by staying safely apart, we will be coming together in gratitude, in the warm candy cane sweetness of fond memories and in hope of brighter days ahead. If that isn’t the spirit of Christmas, then I can’t imagine what is.

Blessings to you, my friend. Thank you for coming here this year – and I’ll be back with you on Monday, January 4th with a new journal. In the meantime, I’ll have daily posts at my facebook page if you’d like to stay in touch.

Merry Christmas. And may 2021 be a healthy and healing year for us all.

(photo taken pre-COVID)

Just a thought… The winter solstice is the time of ending and beginning, a powerful time – a time to contemplate your immortality. A time to forgive, to be forgiven, and to make a fresh start. A time to awaken. [Frederick Lenz]

Ah, the arrival of a new season. Winter solstice, when the days actually start getting longer! For this and so many other reasons, we have a glimpse of light in our futures. That unfamiliar sensation you’re experiencing may just be hope. Not to put too fine a point on it, but tonight the great conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn may just be a lovely sign of better things ahead. Or not…whatever you choose to believe.

I’ve been thinking a lot about radio these past few days: last Wednesday marked four years since CHFI and Ian “The General” MacArthur gave me a send-off fit for a fairy tale. Radio has been on my mind in all of 2020, of course, although I’m very happy to have become a podcast host for two separate clients this year, and best of all, to have been able to partner with producer/husband Rob to effect these labours of love. What a joy to share information and inspiration in ways that I hadn’t even envisioned at the start of 2020.

Of course, as I mentioned here last week, I’m also partnering once again with Cori Ashley and Ed Franks for their SuperMePrograms (which my auto correct wants to spell Supreme, and that’s okay, too). For now, we’re focussing on offering you a free download of the Prelude to the Calm meditation and inspiration pieces we did together in 2005 when my life was, oh, so different.

The reason for the timing is that we feel the need for healing and hope now more than ever, and so here it is (for a limited time). I hope you’ve had a chance to listen to the program and pass it on to friends or family for whom you just haven’t known what to get this year. (They don’t have to know it’s free, but it is a gift from the heart.)

So anyway, why am I thinking of radio? Because it was such a huge part of my life and gave me literally everything I have except my health; that, I was and am responsible for myself. But this past year, I honestly don’t think I’d have been a very good morning host: frustration and outright anger over how people weren’t taking COVID seriously would have dominated my feelings and I’m so over having filters I would likely have ticked off a lot of people.

I don’t know how I’d have handled all of these hot topics this year on the air – I mean, you know how I’ve done it here in my space. But those airwaves belong to everyone else. My blue Santa hat is off to everyone who navigated those rocky waters this year. From home. No eye contact. Here’s to the producers, too: the unsung wizards who made it all possible from afar.

And so it is that I end today’s journal with gratitude and memories to share with you of my friend and former partner Mike Cooper. The future is too bright for me to live in the past, but I do enjoy dipping my toes into those warm waters on beaches and in pools with listeners and laughing at the thought of the way we’d be in stitches before 5:30 am a lot of mornings. Those were really wonderful times, and while my life is about building new ones now, I cherish the memories – many of which you helped to make. Here’s a pic of the two of us last year.

I’m happy to tell you that popular Spirit of the Season programming will run Christmas Eve and Day on CHFI (and several other Adult Contemporary format stations in the Rogers family across Canada), so you’ll be able to relive some special moments we put together, from The Polar Express to renditions of other pieces, including The Grinch. I hope you’ll tune in.

With those fond moments in mind, I have for you today an audio chat that I recorded with Mike Cooper this past weekend. I hope you’ll enjoy our laughter, glimpses of last Christmas together in the U.S. (while HE remembered it – I totally blanked!) and the miracles and memories of the holidays that we hold dear. Take good care and I’ll be back with you here on Christmas Eve.

Just a thought… What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, hope for the future. [Agnes M. Pahro]

Oh, my friends, I have my fingers crossed today. Last week on our way home from a few errands with Colin, we passed by (safely and at a snail’s pace) a glorious house in our neighbourhood that has gone above and beyond in decorations this year.

I have for you a video of his reaction – our short Q & A – that I’m hoping YouTube will allow to stay up, despite a very clear verse of THE most appropriate non-Christmas song in the background, which just happened to be playing on our radio at that moment. (They’re rightfully tight about copyright).

If it’s not there, I apologize. But it really is worth the watch. This six-year-old boy’s response is everything – I promise. And if you do take the time to view it, come back to the journal to read about a special initiative being planned worldwide for one week tonight.

Have you noticed that people just seem to be going a little more over-the-top with decorations this year? For us, it means putting anything at all out in front of our house; we’ve either been that house with no lights (the first two years we were here) or away for the winter, as we were the next two.

But in 2020, as we all view a vaccine as the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel (with many more precautions to be taken, of course, until we can all breathe easily and even consider taking off our masks), the perfect analogy is those neighbours, stores and communities that are brightening our lives in any way that they can. Bless them all.

For every event that was a part of our holiday traditions that have been cancelled – the markets, the parades, the celebrations together – there has been a quiet call to add cheer in our own ways. One week tonight, on Christmas Eve at 6 o’clock, many thousands of Canadians are going to go out on their balconies or front steps and ring bells to help Santa guide his sleigh and to honour those who have kept us safe and healthy in the most challenging of years. From Blog.TO:

Etobicoke resident Craig Power shared the idea in the South Etobicoke Community Group Facebook page.

“On Christmas Eve at 6pm everyone will come outside onto their doorsteps and ring a bell for 2 minutes to spread the Christmas spirit and to help Santa fly his sleigh. After this awful year, it would be an amazing memory for the kids and communities,” he posted.

The Blog.TO story continues:

The idea appears to have originated in England, with a Facebook group called Worldwide Christmas Eve Jingle 2020 dedicated to the event. The group suggests the idea stated in Harrogate, a town in North Yorkshire, England.

“What started as a little idea for the Harrogate Community is starting to spread so thought a group would be a good idea for all communities all over the world to join in,” the Facebook page description reads.

The group encourages people around the world to go outside and ring a bell for two minutes at 6 p.m. on Christmas Eve.

It also suggests an added option of singing carols after the jingle.

“It will create a wave of bells across the world,” the page description continues. “After a tough year it would be an amazing memory for the kids and communities. End 2020 with a bit of Magic, hope and togetherness!”

We’ll be doing just that, one week tonight. I’ll have tears in my eyes, remembering those 24 years of Christmas Eve at Erin’s shows that always began with a welcome and then Chris Rea’s “Driving Home for Christmas.” In fact, as I write this, I think I’ll make sure it’s playing when we’re outside at 6 pm our time.

We’ll leave our dinner on the table and we’ll take the time remember all of those who are working on Christmas Eve (as we always have) but also the women and men who gave so much to make sure that we were safe and healthy, fed and cared for in this impossibly difficult year.

We’ll think of the fear that has swept through our country – and our planet – like some Biblical plague, and for a moment, just be grateful for our homes, our health, our families. For the gifts under the tree (and the stalwart men and women who made sure they got to our doors or mailboxes) but even more importantly, for the love that we got to share, the connections that we made by plowing through tech-fear barriers and the longing that we feel to hug and hold those that we miss so very much this year.

I’ll be back with you here on Monday – a chat with Mike Cooper on what will be Winter Solstice.

Just a thought… Don’t be ashamed to weep; ’tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without water. But there must be sunlight also. A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us. [Brian Jacques]

We’ve all heard the saying that it’s better to give than to receive. This year I’m feeling it 100%, although I did receive something the other day that brought me to tears. Right gift, right time. No presents under our tree; we’re giving Rosie a little more freedom and she might find them a little too enticing!

I was so excited on Friday when Rob dropped my sister Leslie’s parcel into the mail bound for Kelowna. I can’t tell you here what’s in it, but it was an idea I came up with, we ordered the elements to make it happen, put the whole thing together and sent it off. I’ll share details in the new year!

Anyway, just planning and pulling that off made my Christmas. Of course, there will be gifts for others that excite me at the thought of them being opened, but this one meant everything because it shows her how much I believe in her. She and my other two sisters have been so amazing at keeping my dad as content as he can be, and his affairs in order, as he lives in constant isolation (along with the other residents, mind you) in a seniors’ home in Kelowna.

On Thursday of last week I was having one of those days. I think it was the after effects of having done a 90 minute live interview (!) on Instagram the night before with girltalkempowerment.com CEO and founder Katie Zeppieri.  The topics were varied but, of course, a big part of it was my book and its contents. I find I’m able to tell the story of our daughter’s death and its toll on us quite capably in the moment; it’s the hours or days after that end up reverberating through me.

Later Thursday, Rob and I returned from some errands and there was a little cloth bag at our door. Inside: a glittering hummingbird ornament. As I unwrapped it, I started to cry. My friend Nancy and her dear husband Charles had done this for us and, although she apologized later for my tears, she needn’t have; I was looking for a reason to let those emotions out. And I did. Hey – it has to happen, right? Water those flowers. Grow new memories.

Another wonderful gift of this season came from my dad. It wasn’t to me, but through me, which meant even more, as it was another of those presents that show someone believes in you. Every year at this time, Dad writes cheques to two charities. One is always Salvation Army (which we also heartily support) and this year I asked if he’d consider the community centre in Sidney for which we deliver meals each week.

The program began when COVID isolation kicked in; Rob and I learned of it from a fellow Rotary club member, thought, why not? and volunteered. Dad said yes without reservations. Last week I was given a hand-written thank-you card to send on to him, and it’s now in the mail. His generosity, and that of so many, is helping to keep the hot and frozen meals coming to those who aren’t able to risk going out to shop. What was meant to be a limited-time program has been extended indefinitely and we’re grateful to everyone who is helping to make this possible.

And then we come to a gift for you. In 2005, I partnered with Cori Ashley and her husband Ed Franks, an award-winning team of composers/performers who assembled a wellness program for your ears (but mostly your soul), called Prelude To The Calm. Stress relief in five minutes or less (because who has the time or energy?).

Since Cori and I last connected, she has created – along with numerous experts in different fields – a series of empowerment programs for people of all ages. It’s simple and fun and hugely helpful for people homeschooling, working, creating or just trying to figure out how best to navigate learning and succeeding in their own lives at any age. She’s called it Supermeprograms.com and, now that she and I have joined forces again, I’m hoping to get involved further in the whole adventure in 2021.

But for now, for you: they’ve uploaded our five minute fun, inspiring and calming journeys – set to the most gorgeous music – for free, for you to enjoy and to pass on to those you love. Not all gifts come with bows (unless they’re of the violin type) – and I promise you’ll love it. No strings (again, see the violin reference!), just relaxation and time for reflection and peace. Heavenly peace.

To receive this gift of stress relief, go to supermeprograms.com and look for my face up top.

I’m going to share only uplifting thoughts and journals from here to the end of the year and thank you for being such a good reason to look for the positive, always.

Hugs, E.

Just a thought… You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming. [Pablo Neruda]

Two weeks today is Christmas Eve. I’m tempted to write a poem, but it’s all been said and, honestly, there isn’t much to add to the sentiments of this season. Hearts are tearing across the world and in our homes and communities, as the hopes of being together at Christmas are dashed – either for this year or, for some, forever.

It’s been a relentlessly difficult year. And so we look for hope in a vaccine, pray for compassion in others that they’ll see the light and wear their masks, obey calls for caution and distancing, and do what’s needed to help all of us get through this toughest of all Christmases.

My own aunt and uncle decided yesterday that they just can’t, in good conscience or health, fly to Calgary to be with their precious children and grandchildren for the holidays. It’s devastating for them all, I know. We’ll do what we can to help them through it…whatever that may be. But Rob and I have had heartbreak at this time of year; we know how it feels.

When we endured our hardest holiday season in 2015, we ran away – literally. Rob and I hopped a plane, rented a place for two weeks, binge-watched the Cumberbatch Sherlock series, and barbecued on December 25th after hiding out for the day in a spa.

We started each day with a laugh by playing the silly Ellen DeGeneres app Heads Up! with each other, acting out and trying to get the other person to guess who or what we were. It was incredibly strange yet relieving to feel the rush of laughter and the soothing endorphins of happiness, even for a few minutes. I highly recommend it for you, if you feel you can do it.

This will be a Christmas like no other. The unfamiliar far-off light that shines in our lives right now comes from the hope of a vaccine that will be arriving on Canadian shores at a blessedly rapid pace. I will place my unwavering faith in the hands of those whose job it has always been to follow the science and lead us out of the darkness.

Of course, not all will: a doctor with Don Lemon on CNN last night outlined just how widely and quickly the hoaxes surrounding information about the vaccine (much of it from Russia) are appearing. There are Facebook pages devoted to the COVID vaccine and they’re rife with lies. So, please be vigilant and don’t be a spreader, in more ways than one.

One troll on Twitter the other night told me (when I gave an ‘amen’ to a Jann Arden tweet about the vaccine in the UK), “You liberals go first.” Um, okay. (Question: does aluminum foil work as well for headgear as tin foil?)

I know, I know, I shouldn’t have responded…but I said, with wide-eyed sarcasm, “Thank you, but I’ll wait my turn: after front line and health care workers and seniors have gotten theirs.”

He responded, “Your government luvs you.” (I hope they do, the money I’ve given them over the years! You’d think I might get a valentine once in a while, but a life-saving vaccine will have to do, I guess.)

See, there’s the rub: so many have been lied to and deceived by government leaders year after year (and this guy was from Vegas) that they refuse to believe a vaccine is anything but some devious plan to track us (go ahead; I’m boring) or poison us. They listen to online crackpots who throw out insanity, only to be lapped up by people who are vulnerable to such misinformation.

Fake videos of hoax doctors who supposedly have dark inside facts about the virus, the people behind it – even Bill Gates, for God’s sake. The man who almost single-handedly eradicated polio worldwide in the late 20th century (only to see a resurgence among the anti-vaxxers whom I can only imagine like the idea of an iron lung). Just last week someone on my own Facebook page said it’s no worse than the flu. Yes, that tired trope is still going around, my friend.

Oh, this turned dark. I’m sorry. I’m finding so many reasons to be grateful this year and I’ll share them with you here in the days to come, as part of a podcast on which I’ll be a guest with my friends Sheila and Anita next week, called “Moms Sipping Sangria.” I’m also planning a recorded chat with Mike Cooper as we approach Christmas; I’ll share that check-in with you.

Sigh. How I wish I was doing a Christmas Eve show with you this year. Maybe I’ll shoot a little video message. But it won’t be the same as hosting that family get-together – something that was our shared tradition for 24 wonderful years. You know, of course, that CHFI will have special programming just for the evening (and the following day, too) and it’ll include some of our shared creations, so I’ll be with you in spirit and even a little bit of audio here and there. I’m so lucky still to be a part of people’s holiday celebrations, even in the smallest of ways.

And speaking of holidays, if you light the first candle of the menorah tonight, I wish you and yours a Happy Hanukkah. Again, we’re thinking of families separated by the virus at this special time of year; you’re in my heart.

We just have to hold on. Get through this one December so that we can get people safe and vaccinated and head into some semblance of normalcy before the next holiday season rolls around. We can do this.

I’ll be back with a new journal on Monday and I am sending you a huge hug.