A Spirit Freed

I had a beautiful moment today and just had the need to share.
  

Today I scattered the ashes of my beloved brother Brian. He actually passed some time ago but my family could not come to terms with where his ashes should go. One day last fall my sister knocked on my door and said "here he can stay with you" and left his ashes with me... and he did stay... while I tried to figure out how to lay him to rest.
 

Today a friend took me to a lovely park in the small community called Lowville which is north of where I live on Lake Ontario. There were few people about and it was cold and grey to start but the sun eventually shone through... there was a large rushing stream, I think Bronte Creek, which wove through the park and lots of forest trails to walk.
 

We walked a long way, deep into the woods but alongside the water and I found the perfect place. Below a noisy set of rapids was a large quiet pool. Steep canyon walls rose on the far side which were draped with maples, evergreens and other trees, many of which had begun the fall transformation. I walked to the edge of the quiet pool and slowly scattered his ashes into the waters. My brother had always been an outdoor person and his passion in life was fishing. At that moment a large fish jumped from the water and splashed it's way upstream.
 

My friend and I were both startled at the fish and thrilled to see something as wild and free as this creature. I looked back to where his ashes settled into the water to watch as some floated out into the stream and were swept away. Some did settle to the edge of the pool and a small school of minnows appeared and swam over the spot.
 

It was then we noticed the footprints in the mud of the stream, probably there all along but it was only then we saw them. Leading from the spot in the water where the scattered ashes settled, they led out into the deeper waters. The sun chose to shine in full force at that moment and the tree we stood under suddenly rained leaves. There was no breeze but the leaves fell in a golden shower on us. My thought was that my brother's spirit was now free and that he was telling me of his joy. My friend said it was the most spiritual moment she ever experienced and I had to agree. I had been terribly sad, reliving my pain at his loss and now I was filled with a wonderful joy.
 

I truly believe in something after death... not necessarily religious but something... I now know that to be true... for I believe our spirit is a forever thing and my sadness over the loss of a loved brother left me completely. He was free to move on and with that I too was freed to move on with life. Goodbye my dear brother... may your journey in this new life be filled with joy.

My Happy Birthday

I am sitting here thinking. I know what you are thinking... that my thinking is something to think about.

Well a milestone approaches which inspires all this thought. A milestone that isn't metric with no u-turns allowed.

On April 1st it's my birthday. Please bring all rocking chairs to an upright position.

I have been looking back on my life... and... have decided to forgo kicking the bucket for a while longer.

Oh sure I find myself pleasantly surprised that I made it this far. Who would have known. I am grateful too for I've had one of a kind opportunities and life experiences. All unique to me... remember the time I was bitten by that black widow spider... remember when the car crashed... remember when I was bucked off my horse to land face first in the mud... yes remember all those times when I was given second chances.

All part of the journey that made up my life to date. I say to date because I'm not finished. There are more spiders (get out the spray), more cars and many more horses with my name on them and a few more things besides.

I've met people on this life journey, good and bad, who enhanced my life. People I've both loved and hated and who both loved and hated me. 

I've met many animals which gave me great joy and mountains of manure. I've met many places up close and personal, places I escaped from... or too.

I can only thank God, as I believe God to be, for the wonders of my life. I've done some deep thinking about spirituality, about what this life is all about and with this thinking (I used a lot of aspirin) I formed a belief that works for me. I don't ask anyone to believe as I do... yet... wait for the book to come out first.

I've let organized religion slowly fade from my life, learning the lessons from it that I was meant to learn but moving on. I deeply believe in God but as a universal entity, for us all in every form we take, whether our teachings are Judisim, Christianity, Muslim, Buddism, Hinduism or Born Again Holy Rollers. We are all members of this universal world. That is my belief... film at eleven.

This change in thinking guided me through the loss of two special men in my life. Each had something to contribute to who I am now and with the passing of each, this new philosphy eased my sense of loss.

I also look back on the other people who came and went throughout my life. Family, friends, co-workers... each giving me something special, even if that was only indigestion. Some merely passed through and some stayed. I am so humbled to have been given such love and friendship. Please don't send a bill.

I have been blessed with an unconventional life, given the opportunity to follow dreams and not be a product of conformity. I am blessed again with the new phase about to begin. I am entering a time of wonderful creativity with a new, incredible world opening before me. I'm so glad I have a credit card to pave the way!

I still find life exciting, filled with wonder at new things. I am sad too that we (referring to mankind) haven't taken care of this wonderful place and sadder still that there is nothing I can do to change this except with my small steps. Surely someone can invent a larger Swiffer to clean up the world's mess.

I have often wondered at what my grandmother (Gram) saw in her lifetime and even what my parents saw in theirs and wonder if they went through the same thought process as I am doing now. Were the kids of yesterday as bad as the kids of today? Was the music just as loud? Did they get up as many times in the night to use the bathroom?

All this has made me appreciate even more the little things that I see. Things like the array of color in the produce department at the grocery store or the way the sunlight reflects on the lake. Like the muffled softness of a snow storm or the sweet melody of a Robin's song. Things like the Rollback sales at Walmart. The more the world advances, the more I feel the simpler world around me.

I have always had special abilities to commune with the natural world (and I'm not even a nudist.) A special awareness of nature, of plants and especially animals. I have always had a connection with the world beyond what we see as reality. These are special gifts from the universe but seen only as burdens at first. It took time to learn their value and I guess if you think about it, all of XX years. Obviously I was gifted but not in the gifted class.

So why all this thought and at this moment? Am I regretting times which have passed or fearing times to come? I don't think so... I am simply looking a my life as if it were a book, thumbing through the different chapters, re-reading the story that is me and appreciating the fact that it is not science fiction.

I simply wanted to thank the universe for the blessing... of being me. 

I would also like to celebrate my birthday with all who have made my life what it is... thank you and happy birthday to all! Your gift is in the mail.

Winter Ballet

I needed to go to the bank.

My landlord, for some unknown and probably not a good reason, demands cash for rental payment. Carless, I headed out for the long walk to the bank. 

A cold breeze snapped at my face like a wet towel at the beach, bringing a blush of color to my cheeks. It's long fingers reached into my coat looking for any breach in it's protection. It was cold. It was darn cold.

I felt exhilarated.

The cold brought my tired soul to life. I sucked the crisp air deep into my lungs and walked along briskly.  Snow boots protected my feet and I trudged through the snow with feet warm and snug in pillow soft comfort.

Hatless, I enjoyed the freedom of my hair blowing in the wind. It fit my mood, giving me a sense of independence. Man, or in this case woman, against nature, on an equal basis.

Leaving the protected sidewalks which were buffered by homes and high rise buildings, I walked along the lake shore, watching ice thick waves slapping encrusted shores.  

Living at the western end of Lake Ontario where the lake narrows as it curves, the distant shores are usually visible across the water. Usually it was a dark horizon caught between two blues. But not today.

Today everything was grey in fifty shades and more. The words "lake effect snow" had meaning now as I watched a storm pirouette over the lake water. It's fringe was edged a white grey but it's center was a charcoal swirl. The storm twirled away from the distant shore heading due east, in complete unrestricted abandon.

As I walked I encountered others strolling in the sunshine and cold. I smiled at each and said hello... happy new year... good day! Some smiled and responded back while others seemed startled as they emerged from intense, internal worlds. Others gruffly mumbled a reply, looking down to avoid personal contact while they hurried on.

I reached the bank, entered, and with accounts settled, headed home. Outside the storm had moved closer to shore. It now skimmed the shoreline very close by. I could almost touch it's grey damask. The sun disappeared and snow streamed in ribbons of white. 


The wind tore at my coat and lashed my face. My skin stung with the sharpness of the cold and with tiny ice pellets. The freedom of a hatless head was now regretted.

As suddenly as it came, the storm reversed and twirled due south to center lake. Here the dark grey mass twirled as it blithely crossed international borders at will. Then, just as suddenly, it raced back.

I huddled deep within the hood of my coat and bent myself to face the wind, right arm raised to keep the hood from blowing off. Gone were the greetings to passersby, everyone too deep into the business of keeping warm to acknowledge others. 

The frigid lashings were endured, block after block. Everything was a blur of white. At last I reached the safe haven of home.

As I opened the door to my building, the sun appeared once more. The storm was gone. Hummingbird like it hovered only a moment here and there in it's perpetual dance. Sometimes it raged in a primitive dark harmony, sometimes it danced lightly over the water and sometimes it tickled the land in delicate delight. Never in one place long, forever on the move but always performing nature's winter ballet.
 


 

Thanks Mom

This morning my world changed.

Last evening I went to bed in the grey world of early winter. Gone were the brilliant leaves of fall, the beds of flowers, the soft breezes of summer. Last night I went to sleep in a world of drab.

I awoke to a brightness in my room. A shimmering light that was pleasant but unfamiliar. Intrigued I climbed out of the warm comfort of my bed and went to the window. A sea of white stretched as far as I could see.

It was beautiful.

A thick blanket of snow had, and was still, falling. Big flakes cascade from the sky. Six inches have fallen but enough to change the construction site next door into a world of mysterious shapes. Enough to change the rusted garbage dumpster into an intriguing vision of beauty. Enough to change the drab of my world into a winter wonderland.

The wind came. Weaving its way between the apartment buildings of my complex and whipping snow into streams of frozen torrent. My basement windows now peered out at a world of whirling white. Visibility reduced to almost nothing yet the bright glow remained in my room.

I made coffee and with a steaming cup in my hand sat on the edge of my bed to watch the storm unfurl. Chilled I wrapped an afghan over my shoulders and slowly sipped the warming brew.

The dancing flakes and whirling streams were beautiful. Mesmerising. Entrancing. Delighting.

I turn on the TV for news, watching national reporters tell of the large storm in the east. They show snow in various places with promise of more. Yet my nearby American neighbor Buffalo only calls for 4 inches. I laugh at how misleading it all is. The city of Buffalo may have missed a direct hit but the areas around it had been having heavy snow for several days. To the south of the city they already had 44 inches on the ground, all thanks to lake effect snow.

Yet the people of New York state love it. Born and bred winter people, they prepare to celebrate the season with skiing, snowmobiles and skates. I wondered if we, neighbors to the north and only a few miles aways would do the same.

So I sat and watched. Thinking and remembering winters long gone, of snow storms past. Of family gatherings while waiting each one out. Of being snug and safe and seeing Nature do her worst or her best depending on point of view.

Sadly the snowfall lightened and finally stopped. The magic moment of watching flakes drift to the ground was now gone. Yet the huge piles of white remained, virginal, untouched as yet by any hand human or animal. So beautiful, so pristine.

I rushed to dress and head out. I wanted to be the first to leave my mark in the snow. Too old for snow angles, I could however, leave my tracks anyway. I searched for warm clothes... looking urgently for thick warm socks. I found a pink one, a blue one, a two-tone one, a black one... I found one of every color but not two. Giving up I put on a turquoise sock and the other pink knowing a matching set remained hidden from sight.

Now out in the cold, I frolicked in the white wilderness. A squirrel scolds from above, a crow caws but few people are here to play. I feel energized and excited and with cold hands take photos to capture the moment. Nature has given me a gift and others too if only they choose to look at this way. It is a beautiful moment courtesy of Mother Nature.

Thanks mom.

The Canadian Way, Eh!

Want to laugh... or cry about government? Canadians will cry, everyone else... will laugh.

The Canadian government has officially decided to stop delivering mail. Yes that is correct, you heard right (or rather read right.) If you want your mail you will have to go get it.

By now I'm sure the bulk mail people have picked themselves up off their many floors and the disposal people have ordered extra large trash bins for the post offices and the Internet people have finished the champagne but for the average person it means you must now make that extra effort to get your bills cause nobody writes letters these days.

How nice to be forced to travel to get your mail. Such a thrill to fight traffic and pay for Canadian gas which averages about $5.20 a US gallon. For me it's a bus trip and a cost of $7 bucks to do so. Do I really want those bills that much? I must give this some thought... hmmmmm how can I spin this so when those collectors call and I can still say it's in the mail? Can I deduct the cost of travel from the bill?

Of course in these rather hard times and high unemployment rates, the fact that 8,000 postal employees just delivered their own pink slips hasn't fazed the government at all. They (the government) will be saving money on the postal service BUT since jobs are few these days, those savings will increase social services demand by 8,000. It is after all, a numbers game.

On paper the government looks good but then we all know that most governments are better on paper than in real life. Here is a thought. Maybe the government should invest in a public relations and marketing service. Maybe they could hire Rob Ford as a consultant or even a spokesperson since he single-handedly put Toronto on the map. I don't think there is a place on this planet that hasn't heard of the city by the lake, thanks to Mr. Ford.

Maybe too, the government might consider Crack and Booze as a way of improving job performance and since the Canadian government is so rocked with scandal these days, maybe... just maybe... a TV series could be crafted from it all. Reality TV Canadian style eh!

Canadians are so numbed by government intruding in their lives that this new change will hardly be noticed. Maybe the government actually has stock in cable... that would explain all these changes. Hmmmmmm I do believe that there are overseas orders going in, God forbid we send business to a Canadian plant,  for Canadian logo-ed government suits with extra large pockets and for smaller faux beaver hats to fit small Canadian heads.

Yet with all adversity there comes opportunity and opportunities abound with this government decision.

Unemployed workers could start computer security companies since everyone will be forced to online banking. Getting a statement from the bank is difficult enough and not often timely with the present system... but then whose fault will it be if you discover your account was emptied weeks after it happened, all because you didn't pick up your mail. Banks could seriously increase revenue with fees for new improved notices to this effect.

Maybe all this will drive up cyber crime as the unemployed become more creative in their job searches. Canadians are nothing if not creative... we did after all think to combine beer and hockey with police camera surveillance of all roads outside stadiums.

Maybe those same unemployed postal carriers could form a new company called Post Eh! Patterned after Fed-Ex/UPS and actually deliver mail to a person's door!!!! What a concept! Oh, wait a minute... we have that now... or had that.

But then some government official would say that too much money was being made from this service and find ways to tax it. Oh look... a new delivery tax on letters! Hey don't we have that now? Did I mention that the cost to mail a local letter will go to almost $1 buck?

Enlightened government would suggest that too much was being spent on salaries and suggest ways to cut the work force using drones instead. Imagine little hovering devices outside your doors and windows... delivering all those flyers, toss newspapers, pizza coupons... and maybe taking a picture or two as they do.

How Canadian! Multi-tasking... keeping the watchful eye of Big Beaver where it needs to be, peeking in your bedroom window. How Canadian to make money by doing so.

Too bad Canadian ingenuity can't invent a drone to replace government officials... but I'm sure it would only give them more time for holidays at our expense. After all don't we have a treaty or something to supply Cuba with escapees from winter?

It's the Canadian way Eh!

My Thanksgiving

My Thanksgiving

Well here it is... Friday... the day after Thanksgiving. I feel terrific. I have a sense of well being that I haven't felt for some time. A sense of expectancy... something wonderful is about to come my way. Something wonderful also happened yesterday.

I haven't had the means to celebrate with a Thanksgiving dinner for several years, Christmas either for that matter. Times have been a little tough and it seemed a waste to spend much needed funds on my own celebrations. Yet on Wednesday I said "no more"... I wanted to honor those I love and to thank the Good Lord for giving me the blessings I have and will have and yes... those blessings I once had too.

The first order of the day was to stop with the Kraft dinner and move on to a more traditional feast. I bought a small turkey breast, some little round potatoes and one rather large, sweet potato. Sadly I forgot cranberries but they are hard to find at this time here in Canada... and for this old girl, out of sight is out of mind.

I spent some time preparing stuffing... sauteing mushrooms and onions, then mixing into diced bread with chopped apples. Ouuuuuuh this was going to be gooooood! 

I finished the stuffing and laid the turkey breast on it in a rather large roasting pan. I only have the one pan so there was no fuss over what size I needed. I filled the pan with cut up sweet potato and the little round, yellow potatoes. My initial plan was to make mashed potatoes but I forgot that I only have one pot and I wanted to save that for making gravy. Oven roasted potatoes seemed a fine alternative.

Now there is only me to eat this feast but I cooked for all my friends and family... of course in spirit only... as there was and is only me. My Canadian parts were off working, it is no celebration here, and my Arizona parts were far away and my Tennessee part was busy and far away too. 

The turkey wrapped in a cocoon of tin foil went into the warmed oven. Soon tantalizing scents stirred my soul.

Ohhhhh it smelled so good. Can there be a finer fragrance than roasting turkey???... I could hardly wait yet I slow cooked my turkey and let the fragrance tease me all afternoon. I decided to act like it was a traditional American celebration and spent part of the day watching TV yet somehow I missed one of my favorite shows... the Eukanuba dog show!!!! I actually cried out in frustration when I saw on the news that I had missed it... I was watching The Young and The Restless tribute show for Jeanne Cooper who passed away in May. I've seen it three times now and cry at each. An English foxhound won best in show this year... fine dog... bet he doesn't get Alpo.

When dinner was ready I dashed to the stove and lifted my treasure out. I let it rest for a few minutes... I was pacing the floor like an expectant parent... or like a Christmas morning when your parents won't wake up... I couldn't wait a moment longer. 

The time came when my meal was ready. I made my gravy and sliced my turkey... ahhhh so-o beautiful. I spooned out the stuffing, potatoes and sweet potato chunks and covered all with the gravy.... bliss!!!!

I put my filled to overflowing plate upon my simple table and sat down to eat. The goal being not to be able to stand up when I was done. This may sound like gorging but I have trouble standing even on good days. I sat for a moment and stared at the beauty of the plate. I inhaled the fragrance... the gravy, the turkey, the potatoes... the sage scented stuffing.

I glanced up and could see everyone around me. All those I love were there... each with a smiling face... I imagined a plate for each and the turkey never ran out. I felt the love... multiple sets of arms hugged me... both those in the present and those who have gone on. I felt comforted, protected and above all cherished.

This was a dinner I will never forget... it wasn't the food or doing nothing all day. It was those who I love that made it so special.

I am grateful for that special day. I am grateful for those I love and who love me. I am grateful for being able to share that special moment. This is the true meaning of Thanksgiving.

And there is more... I am grateful for...

LEFTOVERS!

Ghost Leaves

Ghost Leaves

Autumn is over.The leaves which turned from green to the many brilliant shades of red, orange and yellow and in so doing created a world of brilliance, are now gone. Winds pull the leaves from their tree hosts and in a whirling rain of color, spilling them to the ground below. Here the riot of rich color slowly turns to softer shades and then to a thick carpet of brown.

The air is sharp and cold. It bites when breathed in and brings a flush of color to the cheeks. The fragrance of the fallen leaves fills the senses. It is an intense earthy smell, clean yet a bit spicy and awakes a primal spirit.

Men with machines screaming at intense, ear-splitting decibel's, blow the leaves into huge piles along the roadside. In the old days it was a ritual of autumn to rake the leaves but modern life has pushed that aside. In times past, hours would be spent raking, creating leaf mountains. All to be ready for composting or mulching but now the landfill is to be their future home. 

Children had rituals also. They would bury themselves in fragrant leaf blankets or jump into the pillow-like softness that only a large leaf pile could provide. Handfuls of leaves became weapons and were tossed in abandon. Bodies became clothed in leaves and once imbedded in hair, leaves became hats of distinction. Giggles fill the air with joyous melody.

 
Dogs too, love the leaves. Darting in and out of the piles as the children do, tails high and tongues dropping from mouths. Dogs and children play together in glorious abandon. The leaves provide happy bodies with glowing faces and later, a night of deep sleep and sweet dreams.

But even as the children play, deep under the piles, ghost leaves are being born. 

Along the pile bottom and the top of the sidewalks, leaves are pressed into the concrete surface. The chemical reaction of autumn rain decaying the leaves etched copies of the leaves on the pavement. Darkened stenciled images of what was once living color.

Soon the physical leaves are collected and taken to landfills, yet the ghost leaves remain. Maple leaves, oaks, beeches and more leave behind a xerox-like image of themselves along every sidewalk.

The images remain through the rainy times of fall, when dark storms drench the town and bring cold winds. They remain when snow falls and covers them but the ghosts always reappear when the sun warms the pavement and melts a window to peak through. 

Winter grows stronger and more storms come. The cold becomes deeper as does the snow but it is the ice which the ghosts fear. The routine of cold nights and warm days make ice form on sidewalks and to protect those who walk upon them, the sidewalks are dusted with salt.

The salt bleaches the ghosts, each day making them a little lighter. Each day they became a little more ghostly until they finally fade away entirely. With their demise the snow fades too and in time, the days grow warm and new life returns. Soon grass becomes green and trees bud, it is the birthing time for future ghosts.

The cycle renews, for with each green leaf that appears on the tree, the future of the ghosts is assured. The ghost leaves will return again, they will come each autumn and disappear each spring in a perpetual dance that is their destiny.