Kinks

It was a long day yesterday, and just in case we had any delusion of control -- life exerted its supreme authority and delivered a smack down. Things at the hospital did not go as expected or as planned.

His surgery has to wait for another day; seems he had anaphylaxis to penicillin or perhaps the anesthetic. But no worries, they figured it out and he is recovering. He is disappointed that his procedure is deferred however his feisty spirit prevailed! Not to be silenced, he motioned for paper and pen and immediately started scrawling out directives, questions and feelings. We knew he was going to be okay when he wrote "how is my hair? His forehead wrinkled and his eyes squinted and I saw a flicker of his sense of humour ... I drew him a picture, and I think I saw a hint of smile. Just a little.

When we finally got to say our goodnight, he was talking and seemed calm and comfortable - a departure from the first glimpse we got post surgery. I can honestly say that it was the very first time in my life that I witnessed my dad in an utterly vulnerable state. His eyes seemed resigned as if to say, "this is exactly what I didn't want to have happen". He has made it known (and I suspect is a deep seated fear) that he does not want to become a perpetual patient.

So it will be a recovery of a different nature and we all shared his disappointment. He was so prepared and focused on getting to the other side of the operation to start his recovery. But that will have to wait for another day.

As the risk of sounding cliche, these life-imposed incidents remind us of what is truly important and to not leave issues unresolved, as well as provide us with opportunities to feel our family love and devotion merged into a powerful single force of support. It is times like these that we are tested, and feel the infinite power of a strong family. And despite the shreds of anxiety and emotion, there is gratitude for belonging to this wonderful, united, warrior tribe.

Coming and Going

Winter obviously didn't get the memo ... we barely had a flake of snow during the Christmas holidays or even the entire month of  December and today, the first day back to work, the early morning was draped in a light blanket of the white stuff. Hence "Let it snow, let it snow ..." was lodged in my brain all day, replaying over and over. The audacity! If we couldn't have snow for Christmas, I sure as heck am not interested now!

I drove by my Dad's place this morning; the house was still dark at 6:30 am. I honked loudly - as is the custom - and couldn't help but feel just a little melancholy thinking about them leaving today. I really don't deal well with goodbyes.

So as the snow arrived, the snowbirds once again took flight and by now are probably toasting poolside, marvelling at their good fortune to be out of the cold. Cheers! I am missing you already ...

Plantslaughter

Tonight the snowbirds fly in, exchanging their chilly Arctic Florida weather for the authentic Canadian winter experience. They are coming home for Christmas and the happy festive factors keep stacking up.

They left me on house duty in their absence; home protector extraordinaire, plant caretaker notsomuch! My dad and T pride themselves on their enormous green thumbs and the lush flora and fauna they grow around themselves. They left their favourite sole survivors of the houseplant variety in my care. The instructions were fairly straight forward - water.

I am not sure what went wrong ... I watered like they said; waited 2 weeks then returned to repeat the deed. The Christmas cactus's were still moist and contented. The leafy green monster was wilted and yellow. What the heck?? I skipped her (she was apparently drowning) and watered the rest of the plants. I returned in 2 weeks to find the cactus STILL happy and moist but I watered it anyway and the leafy green monster had turned from wilted yellow to crispy brown. Cr@p! I peeled off the crunchy bits and ate the evidence - and stressed over whether to mention the health of the plant to Pops. I didn't. I'm an optimist with an unyielding confidence that leafy green would turn a corner and reincarnate.

It didn't happen. I slaughtered that plant. Over the weeks after removing the dead, brittle bits we are left with a Charlie Brown Christmas plant of one lone leaf. Last night when I dropped around with some milk and bread and cranked up the heat in the empty nest, I sat on the floor in front of leafy green. She was alive but barely. Pathetic is an understatement. I apologised silently and then scratched a note out ... I miss my mommy and daddy ... and tucked in the very moist pot. She needs tender loving care that only a parent can give. Little sister never lost a plant on her watch so this failure is hard to face.

What can I say ... I am a plantslaughterer, stemkiller, green thumb orphan. Sorry Pops and T. Want the key back???

Homeward Bound

Just out of the shower, rolling my hair into a towel when I thought I heard quacking. Fritz is a wonder dog but he doesn't quack. I peered out the window ... and down below were a pair of mallard ducks holding court on the makeshift pond that had accumulated on the top of our pool cover.

They made a handsome couple as they glided across the surface without a care in the world. In fact they looked right at home.

It got me thinking about another pair (make that a trio) of snowbirds that will be home in a week or so. Yup - the Polar Bear and clan are closing up shop and leaving the sun and fun of Florida for the call of their home and native land ... Canada.

I look forward to their return ... the breath of life to transform the empty, darkened house into a home. I drive by there everyday and have to catch myself from honking my horn as I pass. Today I noticed a chorus of tulips and fruit blossoms on the front walkway that will be a splendid welcoming party.

Ducks, snowbirds, polar bears and parents ... so happy you are homeward bound.

Winding Down

My snowbird dad will be heading south in a few days with my step-mom T and Doris, to winter in a place with sunshine and heat. We had a long phone chat tonight and I could feel the sadness welling up. I don't begrudge his leaving -- he thrives in the eternal summer. He gardens and plays golf all year long, his joints don't ache as much and the climate affords him an active lifestyle. No winter hibernation for him!

It's just that when they go, they leave a big space. I pass their house every day on my to work, and I religiously honk my horn. It's our little ritual - signalling our "I love you's" as we pass by. Often I would be in our garden and hear a honk from a passing car and I would stop and smile. Hi Dad. Dad's place is a regular stop off on my way home - for nice cup of tea, or a cold glass of wine if it is Friday. Even when I don't get over as much as I would like, there is a comfort and peace knowing that he is just down the street.

I know people who do not enjoy their parents as much as I do - nor are they as fortunate as I. For my relationship with my parents has always been a good one - grounded in mutual respect and love. When my mom was alive, we were very close and were there for one another. She was the heart of our family. After her passing, my dad stepped up and tried to fill some of the gap. I wasn't sure it was possible - but I was wrong. I am proud to say that our relationship has been continually evolving and he has become my trusted confidante. And I miss him when he is not around. Life is not quite the same.

I have lost a parent - and the gift in that (there always is one) was an immediate greater appreciation for the parent I had remaining. My heart goes out to those who cannot muster affectionate feelings for or don't have a loving relationship with their parents. I'd like to think that it's never too late.

So as the week winds down, it marks the winding down of another kind. The snowbirds will migrate south - only to return with the spring thaw,  to a clannish family who loves them very much.

And I will honk my horn as I pass the empty dark house.

Power of Influence & Love

If I was looking for inspiration after a somewhat uninspiring day, I found it in the movie Slumdog Millionaire. In the film, a contestant in the Indian version of "So You Want to Be a Millionaire" is arrested for suspicion of cheating after answering all of the questions correctly. During questioning the contestant reveals how events and moments from his life shaped his future and imparted wisdom.

It got me thinking about how we are shaped by our early beginnings - childhood - and the people in it. They help influence our thinking, our values and how we perceive ourselves. In grade school my music teacher convinced me that I had talent; that I could be a featured soloist of the band - if I practiced daily. Funny thing was, I only knew 4 notes on my brass instrument! But - I had a destiny - a talent. I lugged that baritone (small tuba) home and treated my saintly parents to daily random collections of notes! I worked hard and got to be very accomplished and a soloist - all because someone else thought I had greatness in me.

Years later, that very same teacher laughed when I told him how he had inspired me with his belief in me. He confessed that at the time he thought I was tone deaf and pretty much hopeless but -needing a baritone player for the band - he said whatever he thought would get me practicing. A lifelong myth - debunked! But it showed me the power others can yield - if we allow it. This can work both ways - positively and negatively. I shudder to think of the consequences if that same teacher had suggested that I drop music ...

I think the same principle applies to love. We learn how to love from those who loved us as children. My parents were generous with their love to me and my siblings, raising us in a home filled with affection and love expressed - between our parents, and shared amongst us. Hugs and kisses were bountiful and as a parent, I imitated those expressions with my own children. Unconditional love can make everything seems possible and strengthen our armour of self worth.

But what of those who are not so fortunate? They navigate life's rocky channels without the confidence of knowing; but rather, hoping - accumulating know-how with earned experience.

We learn how to love and if we are very blessed, we get taught by the best. I am grateful I was.

Farewells and Reunions

Today my sister and I dropped our parents off at the airport for their flight back to Florida. Luckily we were all busy unloading luggage, hugging goodbye, and exchanging last minute instructions - which removed the emotional teary quotient from our farewell. I usually get a lump the size of Alaska in my throat when I have to say goodbye to Pops and the family. I just swallowed it whole and kept my mind busy. I just wasn't up for sadness. But when I drive by and their house is dark, and no one to hear my honk .... : (

The drive home - which included a border crossing (and a lengthy wait) - gave my sister and I a rare opportunity for uninterrupted chatter. Not that we need an excuse but still, it was a nice treat.

Tomorrow I am taking a road trip of another sort with MIH. I know she has great anxieties about it but in my heart I know she will make a memory tomorrow that will become a treasure for her to cherish always. She is going to celebrate her first mom's 75th birthday by taking her to lunch and I know that no matter what, that will be the best gift her first mom will get this year. And they both have waited a lifetime for it.