Erin's Journals

Just a thought… I will love the light for it shows me the way yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars. [Og Mandino]

Well, we’ve made it. I’d like to say that the last few days passed without tears, but I’d be lying. Saturday was hardest, though; as often happens with grief, it’s the day or days leading up to the darkest ones on the calendar that take you out at the knees.

I spent the entire afternoon in bed, until Rob turned it around with “breakfast” at 5 pm. Sometimes, even though you’re surrounded by kindness – flowers, beautiful notes and poems, cards and calls, it’s the tiniest gesture out of the blue that can change things on a dime.

I didn’t find a dime yesterday, but I did see a sign. More on that in a moment.

We took a top-down drive in 27 C sunshine Mother’s Day (sorry for the temperature mention, but it was such a gift, that I had to…) and walked by the ocean near Sooke. A seal popped his head out of the water to snort at us and, other than the shimmering beauty of our surroundings (which was more than enough), that was the highlight.

Sure, it was not like the hummingbird that visited us two years ago on May 11 (which inspired the art for my book cover) or the deer that came right up to Rob’s car window on that trip to Washington State’s San Juan Island.

But we’ll take it.

Yesterday we visited “our” bench in Sidney’s Iroquois Park and, under cloudy skies, sat wrapped in our late friend Debbie Cooper’s shawl and just talked and listened. We love that they’ve even planted a new little dogwood tree nearby.

It was here that the picture you see on my website banner was shot. But it was only a few weeks ago that I noticed something very special in that picture (and it ain’t me). Here’s the shot, which shows up on the back cover of the book.

And here’s what’s on that tree on the tiny island in the park. Do you see that rainbow, or prism? I hadn’t noticed it until one day when I had my journal page open and those colours caught my eye. Wow.

So yesterday – as I am wont to do – I looked for a sign that Lauren was with us. A dime? No. A deer with full antlers? Nope. But I did see this sign at a car dealership near our house as we were on our way to our bench.

I’ve always loved variations on the old “when one door closes, another one opens.” A couple more that make me laugh: “…’cause that’s how doors work.” Or, “…that’s what my grandfather would always say. He was a great man, but a terrible carpenter.”

But the one above – from a used car dealer? Perfect.

Sometimes the signs we hope for don’t appear, and you take what you can get. Even if it’s a laugh thanks to a literal sign.

Have a good day and I’ll be back with you tomorrow.

Just a thought… My heart still looks for you and my mind still talks to you. But my soul knows you’re at peace. [author unknown]

This is a Thank-You Note

I’m expressing my gratitude to you for coming and sharing these journals since I started writing them daily again about seven weeks ago, when the pandemic had us all feeling so off-balance and lost. Your being here has given me a reason to think outside of the box (in this case, our house) and concentrate on the blessings, the connections – real and virtual – that keep us tethered to the earth even when the winds are swirling at their strongest all around us.

But, with your understanding, after today I’ll take a little breather and be back on Tuesday. This has been a hard few days leading up to Mother’s Day and Monday, the fifth anniversary of Lauren’s leaving us. As it was in 2015, they pack a one-two punch and I just need to lie low for a little bit.

To be very honest, I didn’t know whether to post about Lauren or her passing or anything more about this for now; with last Sunday’s Facebook post about Bereaved Mother’s Day, the outpouring of kindness, as people offered sympathy and other mothers shared stories of their own loss, was more than I expected.

It is not for that reason that I mention our daughter; I can assure you that we’ve been showered with more compassion than I could ever have hoped – a lifetime’s worth, both hers and ours combined. Every day I am reminded of the suffering that goes on in the hearts of others – today more than ever – as people long for those who make their lives so worth living.

Believe me, I know we’re not the only people who are going through grief. And it’s okay to call it that: we are all grieving the loss of so many things in our lives. And I’ll remind you of a site I subscribe to (for free) that offers thoughts unique and common, wise and grounded. It’s WhatsYourGrief.com and is well worth your time, I promise.

And yet, if I don’t post about our dear girl on the day of her passing, does that mean she doesn’t matter anymore? What are the rules on socially grieving, anyway? (Rhetorical questions; we know the answers are that there are no rules. No timeline. No roadmap. I’d say I could write a book about it, but I already did.)

My hope is that you have even a fraction of the immense support and love that Rob and I have been so privileged to receive, no matter what challenges you face every day. And again, I know everyone faces them in all ways, at all or various times. We need only think of the families of those Canadian Armed Forces men and woman who were repatriated at CFB Trenton on Wednesday. Such heartache.

As we take this time to reflect and to mourn, I wanted you to know that I don’t take for granted the kindness that has come our way. I wish you a peaceful heart and, if appropriate, a Happy Mother’s Day.

We will remember, always.

I’ll be back with you Tuesday.

Just a thought… A well-developed sense of humor is the pole that adds balance to your steps as you walk the tightrope of life. [William Arthur Ward]

Some thoughts today on comedies and the people who bring them to us. Thank goodness for (most of) them; they keep us from crying and sometimes make us cry with laughter – as I did Tuesday night when we watched Jerry Seinfeld’s just-dropped 23 Hours to Kill on Netflix.

It was David Letterman, in the final days of his late night shift, who showed Rob and me that we could laugh again, those dark days of May 2015. Comedy has saved us more than once and continues to do so, for so many.

We’re grateful for Stephen Colbert, Jimmy Kimmel and Seth Meyers; they do deep dives on the day’s controversies, play clips of the US “leader” and his ridiculous statements and reactions and put them into clearer focus, shining a light on the absurdity of our times. (How we miss Rick Mercer these days….)

Unfortunately, we are at the point where we can watch only one or two of the late night monologues these days, having gotten exhausted by the emotions that they churn within us. I’m quite sure that swearing at the television is not a good way to end a day.

But I salute each and every personality and their teams, striving to continue to bring their shows to us from their homes (or, as in the case of HBO’s multi-award-winning host John Oliver, from a blank screened studio, also at home). They’re closer to earning their enormous salaries in ways they didn’t imagine possible even six weeks ago.

No, they’re not front line workers and goodness knows they’re sure not risking their lives like the real heroes of this pandemic. But in helping us to get through with some semblance of normalcy and some much-needed humour, they’re doing their part, the Bob Hopes of our times.

Side note: a favourite talk show guest of ours, Jim Gaffigan, has been cast to play late TO mayor Rob Ford in an upcoming movie or series. While the choice of Gaffigan is inspired, I’m not so sure this is a topic that needs to be covered – again.

As Saturday Night Live strives to bring us the best shows they can on a semi-regular basis, we are fortunate to have numerous options to which we can escape when the daily drudge gets to be too much.

We have choices galore in terms of old shows that can be called up with the push of a button: for us, it’s early episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm. I believe there may be nine seasons of old Seinfelds in our future as well, given the delays coming for this fall’s shows and the ones we’ve binged, anxiously awaiting fresh episodes.

Which brings me to Jerry Seinfeld. A lively and spry 65 (which isn’t a surprise), Jerry hasn’t lost a beat in bringing the small issues, the inner thoughts, the common person’s foibles and bigger picture pet peeves into focus with absolute hilarity and impeccable timing.

From wanting to get out of wherever we are (prescient, given these times, for sure) to how everything is great – and sucks – to the voice that we all put on when repeating what our partner says (which I definitely do, and had Rob and me both in tears) his whole act and sense of humour are sharp, clean and just what we need right now.

Of course, Jerry’s good anytime, but we were especially glad to laugh at an hour of comedy this week. We’ll be watching it again. Added bonuses: Jerry jumping from a helicopter, plus not one word about politics.

And then there’s Ricky Gervais’ second season of After Life. I’m so loathe for it to end that we’ve only gotten through two episodes! But the good news is that Ricky tweeted that he’s been encouraged to get off his “fat arse” to make a third season. So we’ve all got that to look forward to.

Take good care and thank you for stopping in. And please, don’t stop laughing. In the meantime, here are the two fortune cookies I’ve opened this week. Are you kidding me?

Just a thought… I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity. [Gilda Radner]

Welcome to Wednesday and thanks for being here. Oh, it was heartbreaking to read so many people’s own stories of distancing from elderly parents in the comments section of my Facebook page in response to yesterday’s picture of my dad and lady friend in their masks. It just goes to show you that no matter what you’re going through or how very solitary you may feel, you are never alone.

One woman even said how badly she needed a hug, and got them online right there on the page. I’m happy to see that Facebook truly can be good for something other than people dumping all over the PM or explaining why we should have the rights to guns that eviscerate their targets. (If you’re that bad a hunter, maybe it’s not your thing?)

Anyway….

It’s all getting pretty confusing, isn’t it? Here in BC we’re hearing of a gradual loosening of the self-isolation rules, but how widely and when? While healthcare workers make up about a fifth of all COVID-19 cases, there are still calls here for more PPE; masks are being reused like never before. And yet…loosening.

I’m not getting it. But I’ll do as I’m told. There’s a very real risk of spreading the disease before it’s eradicated (which won’t happen until there’s a vaccine or it dies off as SARS did 17 years ago); how cautious will we have to be?

So many questions with much at stake.

We’re hearing the words “the new normal” a lot these days. With so much evolving, for a great many people, what they do will depend upon whom they believe and where they get their news. Heaven help us, the lunatic fringe has as loud a voice as anyone – sometimes louder – and it’s difficult even for the biggest skeptics among us to discern what’s true and what’s not.

More importantly, the question to ask is who is behind it, and why? Some people defy and deny advice and orders in a time like this because they either hate government, or hate this government. Logic be damned, I can’t stand the guy in Ottawa, they think.

Even a beautiful piece like the Heritage Minute put out to salute the 75th anniversary of Canada’s liberation of the Netherlands, posted this week, had comments from the hard-of-thinking calling the PM a “Nazi” over his stance on guns. If these pampered basement- dwellers had any idea of the challenges faced during real hardship, they’d eat their misspelled words.

Here’s that piece (with comments turned off, thankfully) and, yes, that is the voice of Peter Mansbridge.

Oh, and finally today, back to masks. Rob was completely delighted to find this link on the weekend and each day as I sit down to write and muse aloud, “Hmm…what is tomorrow’s journal going to be about?” he asks if I’ve shared his discovery yet!

So, without further ado, how to change the settings on your iPhone so that it will recognize you with a mask on. Here’s the link. There. Now my editor is happy, and so am I!

Back with you here tomorrow. Stay well.

Just a thought… Invisible threads are the strongest ties. [Friedrich Nietzsche]

They say a picture’s worth a thousand words. So here are about 380 more of them, to go along with a special shot taken yesterday.

Today, as we heard of a friend’s mom passing away at age 87, not of COVID-19 exactly, but most likely, her son says, due to the loneliness of the disease’s accompanying enforced isolation in her seniors’ residence, we were reminded of the importance of connection.

Matthew had been to see his mom, who lives in Montreal while he resides in Toronto, just the day before. She wasn’t ailing, but was frail; just the same, her passing was not expected and she will be sorely missed by the friends and family she leaves behind. As always, the “at leasts” are for them to say.

It just reinforces that it’s not so much the material things that we long for these days, but the hugs and the smiles, the heartfelt relatedness that lets us know we were part of something bigger. Something solid.

When I last saw my dad, it was to celebrate his 86th birthday. He was – as he is now – in good spirits and healthy for his age. And as we read the daily news, we are grateful for those things, but especially for his companionship in the form of the “girl next door” where he lives: his sweetheart Dawna.

My two Kelowna sisters are responsible for this picture: Heather, who sewed masks (one with musical notes for Dad, the other in a tiny floral print for Dawna), and Leslie, who delivered them and took this shot.

No, the doggie in the window in that shot isn’t real, although I had to do a double-take, too! And that heart? I assume it’s a paper one stuck in the window, but you just never know, do you?

With the breadth of despair hitting so many families who have loved ones living in senior care, many of whom – like our friend – are having to plan long-distance funerals on Zoom these days, we count our blessings that fate was so kind to my dad in bringing him a late lifemate, especially during these times of such aloneness.

I hear from so many readers who are heartsick at not being able to visit their aged parents, many of whom don’t have the mental capacity to grasp what it is that’s keeping their families at bay. And we know that Dad is in good hands in so very many ways. How lucky we are!

And if everyone rushes back to “normal,” the last seven weeks will have been for naught. Will this be the hindsight that 2020 provides?

I’ll be back with you tomorrow.