Happy Mother's Day !


This morning i meditated on the mothers in my family. It spanned six generations . It began with my Great grandmother who emigrated from Bellerup, Denmark the day after her wedding. She came to northern New Brunswick with her husband. They had been promised good farmland cheaply. It turned out to be wilderness.
She had nine children, four of whom died in childhood. One by fire and the others diphtheria. How did she survive?I have a photo of her. she is wearing a danish costume, only for her it wasn't a costume , it was her daily outfit. a long woolen skirt. a puffy sleeved printed shirt and an odd hat . I love that photo. When i was a little girl, my mother told me 'Grammy' had her hand in her pocket because she kept candy there. She always carried sweets for the little ones. I'm like that. When i go to pick up my grandson at kindergarten i always bring a little treat .
Then there was my grandmother, "Ruby Nancy " She was born in Maine. She had been orphaned and raised by relatives. My grandfather boarded at her parent's home. They fell in love and moved to New Denmark to the farm, my great grandparents had carved out of the forest. I don't think Ruby was happy there . She was a city girl. The Danes, according to my mother were very straight laced and didn't accept outsiders . She had eight children. My grandfather died rather young leaving her to run the farm and raise the children on her own. She sold the farm and moved in with my mother. She partied a bit and painted her lips and nails. You know the song:"Oh Ruby, you've painted your lips..........Don't take your love to town". Well she did.
My mom ( who was the best of the lot of them) was the eldest of her family. She worked the farm along side of her father. She loved horses and rode bareback. She was daring and courageous. Her sister told me mom was not afraid of anything. I love the story she tells about them swimming in the swimming hole and stealing their younger sister's clothes and making her walk home naked. It was mean and rotten . But it says so much about the three of them on that dirt country road in the heat of the summer.
My mother had eight children, one of whom died when he was nine months old. There are four daughters and three sons. I am the youngest. I have two daughters . I can honestly say all of my sisters are wonderful mother's and their daughters are fabulous mothers. I feel so proud when I
look at my nieces and great nieces at how amazing they are, not to mention my own fantastic daughters who are the most amazing women and mothers EVER. And i would be remiss not to mention my sister -in - laws. I have been blessed. My brothers have been blessed. Their children have had great mothers.
But more than anything I want to thank stepmothers everywhere. To my mind this is the hardest job of all. Motherhood carries with it an inherent recognition and honour, but not so with a step mom. They are not always accepted or honoured.They are not the "real mother" and may not particularly like their inherited family. But my hats are off to those who try.To those who are kind and patient and respectful . I believe they have a free pass to heaven. And they will also get breakfast in bed this wonderful morning along with all the other great moms past and present.
I have only one granddaughter. I hope I will have lots and lots of great granddaughters and wonderful granddaughters -in- law. I see in my tiny granddaughter the makings of a mother in the tradition of all the great ones in my family. Whether she has children or not, that 's for her and fate to decide. But I do know and see in her the traits that have passed down through the ages of love and caring and courage and curiosity and joy at this marvelous wonderful gift of life we have been given by our mothers (okay and fathers, but hey it isn't father's day yet!)

my guy


this is lucky. we're in love. lucky came into my life the day
before my husband died. i was on my way to the hospital with my dog"happy" and my daughter's dog "beau". it was also the day of my grandson's "kissening" ( as opposed to
"christening") which we were having on the beach at my cabin across the bay.
as i was driving to the hospital i spotted a little
white and black dog running with a 20ft chain dragging behind him.
i stopped and unhooked his chain and tossed it beside a telephone pole. the dog jumped in the car , very excited to see the other dogs. i was in a rush and decided to take him
with me and deal with finding his owner later.
i called the radio on my cell phone and had them make
an announcement. the owners called while i was driving home . i dropped him off enroute. it turned out that i had picked him up in front of his house (it is true, there is no such thing as a lost dog, it is just a dog on his way home!)
i mentioned to the owner that i was smitten with him and if they ever considered getting rid of him , i would be happy to have him.

it was only a few months later when my dog "happy " died. i was devastated. i had lost my husband , my mother , my mother-in- law and my dog all in a space of 12 months. it was too much . i was filled with grief. i think it all culminated with the loss of my dog.
a year later , almost to the day, "lucky " showed up at my door. it turned out his name was "lucky" and that was what i had called him when i first saw him. it was the day before my daughter's wedding. which was taking place at my cabin across the bay.
i opened the door and there he was. my little grandson and i walked him home. again i asked the owner if he would consider letting me keep him. he declined saying that his little boy would be heartbroken. as i turned to leave i noticed a cigarette but floating in lucky's water bowl. i felt sick.
after the wedding, my friend and i went to a week long buddhist retreat just outside of boston. it was to wind down and recharge my batteries after a stressfull year. when i arrived home , i saw a photo of a stray dog in the local paper. he looked just like "lucky". i called my friend who worked with the spca and asked her if it were possible that this was "lucky". she said it was. we tore off down to the animal shelter and sure enough it was! i paid the fee and brought lucky home. wow! it had been meant to be. as an aside my friend also fell in love with a dog at the shelter that day. she brought home "abigal".
lucky was home a day or so, when he managed to escape. my heart sank. i knew he would find his way back to his previous owners. i also knew if he did i would have to let him stay. that was his home afterall.
it wasn't an hour before a knock came to the door. here was lucky and his owner. this time it was the wife. she told me she wanted me to have the dog. she said he kept running away and they couldn't afford to pay the fine. she asked me one favour, that i not walk him past her house. she didn't want her son to know where lucky was. i told her i was happy to share lucky with her son. she said no.
lucky has been with me for 5 years. i tell everyone " i got lucky" and i did.
yesterday lucky got terribly ill. he had diarrhea and was vomiting copious amounts of a watery liquid. the carpet was covered from one end of the house to the other. it was vile. poor lucky.
i thought perhaps it was one of two things ( or both). he had eaten something on our walk on the beach at the cabin, and/or it was the tin of dog food i gave him. i had forgotten to bring his usual food and bought a tin at the store. "beau" had been with us and ate the same food. he didn't get sick.
about 3am this morning , i woke suddenly , with the horrible thought " lucky has parvo virus!" i got up, went online and looked it up. it sure sounded like it...........
"oh my god! i'm going to lose him".
i panicked . he wasn't in the bed . i couldn't hear him breathing. i checked under the bed. he was curled up in a ball, looking very forlorn.
as soon as i could this morning , i delivered him to the vet. she said to leave him as she would need to run tests. he was so anxious, seeing his sweet little face in the cage was more than i could bear.
i went home and waited. a couple of hours the clinic called . the test for parvo was negative. i felt such a sense of relief. i knew he would be okay. it had to be something he ate. i raced down to get him. i booked appointments for both he and 'beau' to have all their shots. i'm taking no chances!
maybe that was the good that came out of it. i had become complacent about his immunization. thank god, i didn't have to carry that guilt with me.
so lucky has had his meds. he's at my feet snoring. my heart is light. we will go for a little walk in awhile.
i got lucky again!

morning walk

this morning wednesday,i would normally go to the gym with my friend, but since she went into st john's this morning, i decided to take the dogs for a walk aroung the pond instead. it's the first warm , sunny day we've had in ages. much nicer than a sweaty smelly gym.
i let the dogs off leash, as my knee is bad and going down the steep stairs is dangerous with two dogs pulling. these dogs are small but mighty. just as i reached the bottom step, i spotted a woman and her dog. i yelled at my dogs, one of them being a fighter. needless to say neither of them listened to me. i don't have an authoritative voice. the lady tried to command them to back off, they didn't listen to her either. i managed to grab the fighter and let her know the other one was a lover.
she indicated her dog was new and only 6 months old. i admired him and we exchanged dog bios. she asked if i would mind permitting her and "rascal" to walk with us, as she was trying to introduce him to other dogs. she introduced herself as "suzanne". i told her my full name. upon hearing it she shreiked and hit her head. then she told me her full name. it turns out, she is an old girlfriend of my exhusband. they were sweethearts when they were in high school , a hundred years ago. he never got over her and held her up as his standard of the perfect woman.
i told her that i had heard about her for over 40 years. well she turned out to be as lovely as he described. we walked around the pond , me telling her intimate details of my marriage, and of his life and death . suzanne filling me in on their teen years . it turns out she left home in her teens and moved to british columbia. she recently returned home to care for an aging parent. she has decided to remain here.
it's so funny, i knew so much about my husband's early years that it felt like she was someone i had shared a history. we both laughed thinking how much he would have enjoyed our meeting.
when the walk ended we exchanged phone numbers and promised we would do it again.

RDF

the weatherman carl wells, starts the nightly forcast with "more RDF tomorrow and on into the weekend". for the non newfoundlanders "RDF" is short for "rain , drizzle and fog". it settles in this time of year like a wet blanket and refuses to leave. it's cold and damp and generally miserable. why do we stay in this godforsaken rock?
not an easy question to answer , and one i've been asking for over 40 years. i was born in new brunswick where there are 4 seasons. spring comes mid march and lasts till mid june, summer ends on sept 21st , a beautiful fall then winter arrives on the longest day of the year. it's all do-able.
why isn't it like that here? what happened to global warming? where is the gulf stream? where is the sun? is there any hope? are we doomed? what have we done to deserve this?
then the sun breaks through and the sky opens up and our hearts begin to sing. like convicts unexpectedly released from prison, we are gleeful and happy at last. we know there is a god. and he/she is good (most of the time).
we are a schizophrenic people, we live in doom and gloom, then when the sun comes out and warms the cockles of our heart , we are manic, we're out in the street dancing and singing and speaking to every living creature. in our depressive state , we back bite, take up petitions against our neighbours and come to blows over a shovelful of snow.
why do we live here? because it is the best place on earth. it has grandeur. it is not polluted. we have a big sky, big land, lots of wilderness, it isn't crowded, it is safe, there are wild animals, we have a balanced life, we aren't caught up in materialism, our feet are squarely on the ground. we won't starve to death alone or die of heat exhaustion. chances are we won't be shot or run over trying to cross the road. we can't avoid our neighbour and the small annoyances we suffer from them teach us patience.
we live in survival mode. life is precious. we need to huddle against the cold. we need to croon lulabies to keep us feeling safe.and tell each other stories of courage and bravery to make us strong. and above all we need to laugh and make merry to nourish our spirit.
so you see RDF is good for the soul. in a steady prevasive mist it coaxes the life force from the ground. the green force is moving in the earth even when we can't see it. just as our hearts are humming, humming , faintly humming a spring song.