Reflections

Cheers

About 5 years ago my father and I went on a cruise from Montreal to Boston. We decided to spend a few extra days in Boston, exploring and resting before returning home. One place I was very excited to get to was the Cheers Pub, where the American sitcom “Cheers” was filmed. I enjoyed watching many episodes of Cheers, long after their original release (I lived out of the country during the entire series). Dad was excited to be there for completely different reasons. One big reason was that I seldom showed extreme reaction to plans, so he was happy that I was happy! Another reason was that it gave us an excuse to enjoy cold beer in the middle of a hot day.

We spent only 3 1/2 days in Boston and visited the Cheers Pub twice. During the second visit we started chatting with an elderly couple from England who travelled to Boston every year, and come to Cheers each time. They were drinking what looked like a milky beer, as it was served in beer mugs….but it was coffee (with milk). They told us they were did not drink alcohol, but enjoyed the atmosphere of that place.

Dad has never watched the sitcom “Cheers”, but enjoyed every minute of our time in the famous pub. He stood by some of the life-sized cardboard cutouts of the actors, including Norm (George Wendt) for photos. He talked about it for months after, and showed off photos of the pub to his friends. And we both enjoyed the experience; both for very different reasons.

Surprises

Eight years, shortly after moving here, I was sitting outside on the Starbucks patio, enjoying a coffee and chatting with a brave little bird. I believe it is a song sparrow, a species that is fairly abundant around coffee shops and cafes or any place where there might crumbs.

After observing the birds for a few minutes, I took out my phone to take a photo of this sparrow sitting on the back of the chair at my table. I remember being very disappointed when it flew away before I could get a good shot. Imagine my surprise when I got home and took a good look at the photo that I was planning to delete, thinking it was only a photo of a chair on a patio!

Though at the time my eyes saw the sparrow fly away, I surprised myself later and realized that I had clicked at exactly the right millisecond to capture the tiny sparrow lifting off. I wonder how many surprises I have missed by too quickly deleting a photo, or ignoring things going on around me.

Dahlias

Spring is here, we think. This is the coldest May in over 100 years but the days are getting longer and flowers are slowly blooming. I bought these two beautiful dahlias the other day and hope that they will add brightness to my patio all spring and summer….if I treat them right.

Yes, I actually had time to go shopping for something that wasn’t urgent (like groceries). I took an hour one morning on the weekend to grab some soil and a few plants at Canadian Tire, and thanks to covid, some cancelled lessons in the afternoon gave me a chance to plant my small garden plot.

Bit by bit I am stepping away from commitments in my life. Having a few hours on a weekend to spend in the garden felt quite wonderful!

Running away

Maya lives next door. She is supposed to be a house cat, but likes to roam. A few years ago while not yet fully grown, she ran away from home. Her owners looked for her and were hopeful for her return. After three months she was found wandering around a cemetery about 3 kilometres away. Now she is one of the cats who stop by often to visit. Yesterday she was at the door while one of her teenage owners was here for a piano lesson!

I used to run away from home. I wasn’t an overly happy child, and was given the nickname ”Sad-sack-Sandra” by my family. I don’t think I was always sad, just quiet. So quiet that everyone assumed I was sad. I think it was more a case of being misunderstood.

There were days when I was definitely unhappy, misunderstood and sad. Those were the days I would sneak out of the house unnoticed (that was easy because I was often invisible to my family) and then just as quietly, I would sneak back in. Thinking back to my childhood, the times that I ran away from home were related to being bullied, or treated unfairly. At least I thought I was being treated unfairly.

I returned before my parents even knew that I was gone. Getting in trouble was not my intention — I hated getting in trouble for anything and went to great lengths to avoid it. The running away was a chance for me to be truly alone and breathe.

As an adult, running away took on different forms: escaping bad marriages, finding new jobs, moving to a different house or different city. Starting over always seems easier to me than facing the current situation, or dealing with the past.

Children will listen

There is a song called ”Children will Listen” from the musical ”Into the Woods”. It is a song sung to the father who had no father and is afraid because he doesn’t have an example of how to raise his own child.

Careful the things you say, children will listen
Careful the things you do, children will see and learn
Children may not obey, but children will listen…
Stephen Sondheim

I tend to turn that around, and wonder what it was that I did that caused my children to display certain characteristics. What could I have done differently? What did I learn from my parents and unknowingly passed on to my children? Will they pass those behaviours onto their own children?

Metamorphosis

Lately these caterpillars are showing up all over; on the side of the house, on the sidewalk, on the front door, in the bushes. I sweep them away when I have time and sometimes I just walk past.

I am curious to know what they will become but I haven’t had much success identifying them. Will they transform into a beautiful butterfly or into a rather plain moth? Naturally, I would prefer butterflies. One has to look much more closely to find the beauty in a moth.

This morning I feel much like those caterpillars, wandering around looking for that perfect spot to build a protective cocoon while I transform into the mystery that awaits. Or am I building a chrysalis to become a butterfly? Whatever it is, I am searching for a way to protect myself and give myself time to heal.

My process is more like tearing away rather than building. I suppose building a protective cocoon involves removing things in my life that have caused harm.

Winds of Time

Do you see the smile on her face? Peace, happiness, joy. She looks so alive!

When my father was visiting this past September he struggled to walk very far so we went for lots of drives. After spending a year and a half isolated in his home, caring for my mother, at the age of 90 dad had lost much of his strength. Before the pandemic he often walked to the office, or drove nearby and walked the remaining distance. Dad was extremely active as a full-time volunteer right up until the office was closed down because of the lockdown.

The week he spent with me was his first chance to get away and relax for two years. We made it feel like a real holiday, and toured around southern Vancouver Island.

The large female figure, rising from the Salish Sea, personifies the beautiful spirit of this place with its unstoppable elements of wind and time. With her knowing smile she seems to say that she has seen it all, and knows what is to come!
Lindalindsaysculpture.com

Time is unstoppable….it just keeps going. We can never go back and redo anything, but we can change what we do and what we value moving forward.

That week in September was a pivotal point in my life, when I realized that life does not go on forever. There will be a point when I face death, and whether that is soon or far in the future, I don’t want regrets. I don’t want to think that I spent so much of my life working that I have not built strong relationships with family and friends.

Scamp

Wham!

I had just finished a lesson in front of my computer and was startled by a loud thud against the window. The cat who visits daily at my patio doors to get a drink of fresh water from Toffee’s dish, had jumped up on my window box to get a better look at me.

The house where I lived between the ages of 8 and 18 had large living room windows, plus French doors that opened up to the patio in the back. One could see directly through from the front yard to the back yard. Every year we would hear and see several birds fly into the front windows. Some flew off, slightly wounded and confused; others lay on the ground semi-conscious for a few minutes then flew away; others died from broken necks or serious head injury. We weren’t sure if they flew into the window because they saw the reflection of the trees in the front yard, or if they were heading for the trees in the back yard, or perhaps they were drunk after gorging themselves on the fermenting yew berries.

I don’t think the cat was looking for anything in particular yesterday. When he comes to drink water he does make sure I’m watching him, although he won’t let me get too close. Sometimes I look out and see him chasing squirrels. One day last January I watched him as he moved slowly, pausing, moving a bit in slow motion, sneaking up on another cat that was sitting at my patio doors, watching me. Scamp (today I decided I would give him a suitable name) got closer and closer to the other cat, until reached out his paw and swatted it on the back, resulting in a bit of a cat fight.

I’m getting to like having Scamp around. The window between us protects me from allergic reaction, and I get to enjoy his company and his antics.

The car

The car was not my car. It was left behind for me to use when my parents moved away. It came with the house. I can’t even recall the colour, or the model or make. The car was what I learned to drive at the age of 16, a few years before my parents moved. The stick shift made me feel so powerful, and it was enough years ago that ordinary people like me could figure out how to fix the engine when it wasn’t working quite right, or when I managed to flood the gas.

When I felt like taking the canoe for a dip, the car would take me to the lake. It was small enough that I could easily get the canoe on top and tied on tightly. The car meant freedom. It allowed me to go for drives and it kept me in touch with nature and sometimes with friends.

But, what the car was really helpful for was the weekly trip to a neighbouring town for music lessons. Those 105 kilometres became my personal retreat and the car, my oasis. There was an 8-track player and several 8-track cartridges. The one I listened to most frequently, at least once or twice every trip, was Elton John’s Greatest Hits from 1974.

Okay…..I couldn’t resist listening again, and I have been playing “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” on YouTube. In all those years of loving this song, I have never once until today looked up the lyrics. I wondered why he would write about “can’t plan meeting your penpal”, or “should have stayed on the phone”, and many random words that made no sense, but I trusted that it made sense to someone. (did I make you look up the lyrics?)

My special treat on those trips was to stop at the grocery store and pick up a grapefruit, then the car would take me to a beautiful picnic area beside a creek. Sitting beside the creek, savouring the tang of the grapefruit, and marvelling at the peaceful beauty of the seasons. In winter the ice would reflect the sunshine while evergreens contrasted with the leaf-less birch trees, in the spring the water rushed more swiftly down the creek as shrubs and trees turned green again, in the autumn the changing from green to yellow, red and brown was breath-taking.

The car saw me through my first year of growing up and living alone. The music that I could listen to in the car kept me focused and awake for the journey. The side trips and stops along the way strengthened me for the days ahead.

Blessing

Today is the 1st day of May. Another page in my Irish blessing calendar is flipped.

May the good saints protect you
And bless you today,
And may troubles ignore you
Each step of the way.
Irish blessing

Actually, I started writing this blog post 4 months ago on January 1st. A lot has changed since then. My neighbours added 5 more hens to their coop, which means in a short while they will be collecting 10 eggs a day instead of 5. Several cats continue to check in on me throughout the day. More about that later. A war has started, bringing anguish and fear to people around the world, and especially to those living in Ukraine.

January 1st felt like the start of better things. I remained hopefully for at least a few hours, if not a few days. That has changed. For now, read what I left unfinished 4 months ago…..

Standing in front of my computer, I look out at my living room (actually it is my practicing, teaching, computer and storage room now) to watch the squirrels jump from branch to branch through my rhododendrons. They have moved on now to the neighbour’s cedar trees, but are still playfully chasing each other.

It’s the first day of the new year, and I have spent the morning sorting through some book shelves looking to see what needs to go, and what after 30 years I haven’t even started to read. I’m not a hoarder, I don’t think, but I sure have collected a lot of things.

Today is the first day of the new year, and so far there have been no major catastrophes. Of course, it’s only the first day, and it is on a weekend when news stories are scarce, but I am hopeful.

May troubles ignore you….