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Remembering (SoCS 2025-12-06)

At the top of my head today I can’t help but remember this unthinkable day on December 6, 1989. 14 women/students were killed and 13 were injured by a gunman at Ècole Polytechnique in Montreal.

It was my second year back at Concordia University in Montreal, as a mature student. My children were 11 and 8. As a society, I believed we had lived a pretty sheltered life in the sense that we rarely heard of school shootings like we hear today…well at least not here inMontreal.

The thought that one person planned, killed and injured these young people and for what? They were simply young brilliant, university female students. What clutched my heart was sorrow and fear. Fear for what kind of world we might be heading into and what type of future were our children facing. Sorrow for these tragic losses.

My children already knew back then that “feminism” was not a bad word. It just meant we are all equal. And I hoped my children would choose a career in life out of passion and not settle for anything less. Today my son is a teacher, and my daughter is in management in the corporate world.

Today, the thoughts that tower over me are remembering these 14 women/students who were mascaraed by one disturbed young man. Let’s not forget their names… my thoughts are with their family and friends.

A day to remember

This was written for Linda Hill’s SoCS (Stream of Conciousness Saturday and the prompt today is “tower”.

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Dear Emma (Dec 1 2025)

(c) Colombe – Bette Daudelin 1926-2014 (photo 2015)

Dear Emma,

On this day 11 years ago, I woke up at 3am and could not get back to sleep. A scary dream kept repeating itself and after the 3rd dream waking up frightened, I decided to stay up. I dreamed I was sleeping in a single bed with my mom and a boy that was the same age as my grandson at the time, 10. He was snuggled between us. In the dream I would wake up seeing my mom on her knees on the bed trying to untie the knot of the cord handing around the boy’s neck. My body shook and I woke up still shaking. I got up to walk around, look out the window into the night. My grandmother had told me as a child, if you look out the window your bad dream will go away. I went back to bed exhausted, and the same thing happened twice! I thought to myself, “I think, Mom, is trying to tell me something.” It was too early to call the nursing home where she had been residing in the past 6 years when her dementia had taken a turn that was too difficult for my stepfather. She had Lewy body dementia. She was at the stage of no longer speaking and could no longer eat on her own. She did however, recognize some familiar touches and sounds.

When I would visit, I would lay my head on her lap and she would stroke my hair. If I played old Sinatra or Judy Garland music, her face would light up. [I actually made a playlist for my kids if ever I get that terrible disease. Music was one thing that always brought my mom back to life. Music can bring us back in a time when we were younger, eh?

At 7:00 A.M. I phoned the nursing home, and the nurse told me, “Ta mère est mourante…vennez le plus tôt possible!” [[Your mom is dying, come as soon as possible.”] I no longer had a car and she lived in our hometown about 50km away, so I called a taxi. Actually the taxi driver was so kind…he talked about the loss of his mom and for some reason, I found it comforting that he understood. I always enjoy conversations with taxi or Uber drivers.

When I arrived, my mom was in a semi-coma and had pneumonia. There was a tray on wheels with coffee and cookies at the entrance of her room. I found that so kind on the part of the staff. My sister was surprised to see me and I just said, “Mom told me, it was time.”

By evening, I was alone with my mother. The nurse would come in to check up on her and every few hours give her more medication. I was happy to have this alone time with my mom. We had always had such a special relationship…symbiotic most of my life. I think we cut that cord when I moved 6 hours away after my divorce when I was 45! So, I was not surprised that the dream was a message from Mom.
A little after midnight, the nurse came into the room and noticed my mom was a bit agitated…moving a bit and she knew what that meant…we both told her it was okay, “You can go now, Mom.” Mom lifted her head and opened her eyes and looked at me and then lay back and passed. The nurse said she had never witnessed this before. Mom had communicated to me in my sleep and in her last breath. I feel blessed to have had her in my life 62 years…I still miss her.

She lives with me and my children every day. My son brought a photo of her to put on the altar in Mexico when he married and during the ceremony, a huge gush of wind blew her photo on the sandy beach. We all laughed and my son said, “Well, Nanny is here!!” My daughter looks so much like my mom.
And my daughter in law is so much like my mother in many ways. She speaks English with a slight accent like my mom, loves shopping and designer clothes…oh how my mother loved a good deal! She taught me at a young age to never buy retail. “Wait until the end of the season and you can buy quality that will last.” I never knew half of the name brands but she did! She looked like Bette Davis when she was younger so her nickname was Bette because kids could make fun of her name “Colombe” calling her “concombre” [cucumber].

And perfume!! She always had to have the latest and most expensive, so it was not difficult to find the right gift for her. One she wore often was Aromatics, Elexir by Clinique as well as Eau de Givenchy . But even today, when I go out and get a whiff of one of those two fragrances, I feel that Mom has visited me.

She passed at 12:30 A.M. December 2nd, 2014 at 88 leaving a legacy of laughter, music and beauty inside and out. She loved to dance, laugh and adored her children and grandchildren and great-grandson. But oh, did she ever love to shop!

© Clr – Bette aka Colombe (mom )She was nicnamed after Bette Davis

Miss you always
Even when you pinch my cheeks
Until the next time
See you where we’ll laugh and dance
Jitterbug and rock’n roll

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Emma’s fluency – (Weekend writing prompt#444 “Fluent”)

This prompt caught my eye because of its meaning on so many levels. One of my favourite quotes: “”Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see”.” Mark Twain

Emma is known to be chatty in both English and French. She learned French outside of school and at the knees of her grandmother who raised her with her mother. People would tease her about her syntax…real friends appreciated that she was fluent in integrity and kindness. (47 words)

Weekend Writing Prompt #444: This weekend your challenge is to write a poem or a piece of prose in exactly 47 words using the word “Fluent”

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Always the last one out the door…SoCS

Always the last one out the door…

I have always taken a little while to leave home from work. I used to like to clear my desk slowly and prepare for the next day. Knowing I am not a morning person, I like to organize what I put away in a sequence of importance for the next morning. Oh, gosh, no, I am not a highly organized person. In fact, even today, I have to make a list of things to do to be ready for an outing before I run out the door. I think the pandemic helped me get organized. I still have my basket of things to grab as I go out the door and yes, I still bring a mask with me just in case during the flu season which I starated way before 2020 becasue I travelled on public transit. Our winters can bring on terrible colds and flus and my brochial asthma would turn into pneumonia many times.

I can be a bit late for appointments and meetings if I do not follow my list, which friends and family would attribute to my being scattered brain. Fortunately, five years ago I read the book “Scattered Minds” by Gabor Maté and recognized all too well my ADHD.

But I digress, as usual…the only time I would leave at the same time as all my colleagues was when my son was a baby and at daycare. I remember my boss saying how I had changed and left early now. Imagine how I had to explain to him that 1) I was leaving on time like everyone else 2) I had my second job which was the most important one of my day!

When my children left home, I resumed my old habits and I would take the ‘end of shift’ time to put my things away, chat with some colleagues who were working later and catch up with them. A manager once commented that I was the only one who left work so late. I would respond with a smile and say, it was MY time now which was a part of the day I enjoyed.

Many shifts were so busy that even if I did debrief with a supervisor once in a while, it was not enough. I needed to connect with my peers and for me end of a shift was leaving crumbs of the day I had, one at a time so by the time I went out the door, I brought very little back home with me.

In the past five years I have been working remotely but I still shed those crumbs by writing up my reflections of my day. I will check out a platform work colleagues share various things like pets, vacation etc. I usually leave my home office 20 to 30 minutes after I have logged off…those crumbs are precious but if you keep them with you they can mold and that spreads fast!

This was fun writing for Linda Hill’s Friday Reminder and prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday, and the prompt today is “crumb”. Look at her site by clicking on the link. To my American readers, hope you are enjoying a Happy Thanksgiving weekend!

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One Liner Wednesday – Imposter syndrome

November was considered “le mois des morts” month of the dead growing up and I always felt a dark, gloomy cloud hovering over me until we finally saw snow which brightened the landscape. Okay, not 2 to 3 feet but a good 6 inches looks pretty, right? But then I had my first child, Olivier, in November and it changed my outlook on November. October is our Thanksgiving and there was not much to look forward to in the following month; it has become a celebration of his life and fastforward to now, we celebrate his son as well, my beautiful grandson, Gabriel. It is also performance appraisals at many workplaces. I remember working in the corporate world and we were anxious to see the bonuses and raises we might get by December. I work at a non-profit organization now and my bonuses are priceless… hearing from someone who says we have made a positive impact on their life, so I suppose I am “richer than I thought” (that’s actually a Scotia bank ad). I’ve been working at this counselling centre for 25 years. You would think I could whip this up easily. I did get cheering/purring from my assistant though.

Yesterday, I finally handed in my personal reflections of my past year for my yearly PA, with imposter syndrome hanging over my head. This is written for One Liner Wednesday by Linda Hill. Congratulations, Linda on your new book!! To all my American friends, Happy Thanksgiving! ❤

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Running on Empty

I could not help but think of the same phrase when I saw this prompt.

Years ago I had to take time off work becasue I was physically and mentally exhausted. It was a shock to me. I was working part-time, belonged to school committees, volunteered and going to university as a mature student as well as a wife and mother of 2 children. I was devastated and felt I had failed.

It was the best lesson in life I learned. It allowed me to pick up on signs way before it was too late. It allowed me to become much more self-aware and more than anything, I my true friendd who were there for me and became a healthier model to my children.

If you find yourself full of demands personally, socially and professionally you just may end up running on empty.

Be good to yourself and try to pay attention to signs…it can be new aches in your body and sudden mood changes. For people who thrive on giving their all to everyone because it is just second nature to give and it DOES feel good to give, this message is even more important. If you are “empty” how can you do what makes you happy? Be your best friend first and foremost.

P.S. I know I am late in posting this…I thought I had but just noticed today it was still in “draft” mode. [slaps forehead with palm of her hand]

Linda Hill’s Friday Reminder and Prompt for SoCS

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One Liner Wednesday – Shame on you AI!

I’m not sure if this fits into the category for One Liner Wednesday with Linda Hill but here goes.

Hearing a frantic teen reach out to our crisis line because Chat GPT suggested they end their life, moved me on so many levels but mostly, relief that they DID reach out.

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Some things are savoured (haibun)

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “something you enjoyed.” Write about something you thoroughly enjoyed. Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

When pain hits over the 7 threshold and stays steady for days and nights, it can impact on the soul. By then the body is looking for a comfortable position and the soul now feels trapped in a dark unpleasant place. It’s like a massive truck has supernatural powers and it can crush the spirit as well as the body…locked in a third dimension. All you

can do is wait and distract yourself with little movement, safe for gentle restorative yoga…the mat becomes my home.

And then at any time of day or night, it lifts…the tolerable level between 2 and 5 is a blessing. Suddenly the soul feels like flying…it is one thing to be in pain but oh, the taste life when it diminishes…I become human again, pleasant again and even my mindset becomes positive. That is “something I truly enjoy” …ah to feel human again and stick my heart, soul and body out to take in that amazing sunshine even when the sun is above the clouds.

It creeps in
Ever so subtly
Harming cunningly

It creeps in
Uninvited
Unruly guest

Ever so subtly
Increasing its voice
Jarringly

Harming cunningly
Like an abusive partner
inflicting pain

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Nov. 8, 2025 |

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Dear Emma,

Today is a very special day…my son’s 47th birthday. Each year I relive the time leading up to his birth. I often share a letter to him to remind him of some key flashbacks. Now he is a father of two beautiful children …his daughter was born in August 22, 2020 (one majour blessing during the pandemic) and his son, a wonderful birthday gift to him, November 10, 2022 . I am so blessed with 3 grandchildren. from 3 years old to 21! It’s like the universe gave me almost two decades to fit well into my Nana shoes.

Such fond memories flooded my mind when I woke up this morning.

My son is a teacher in primary school and so I did not want to text or call him during the day but decided to send him a note on Messenger.

Dear Olivier,

Oh, how the memories flood back at each anniversary…

I was 22 when I knew I was ready to have a child. I had so much love to give my godchild but it was not enough. The longing was stronger each year. Who knew it would take five more years? Back in those days we didn’t have home tests. I would go a few times a year to the pharmacist in Marieville so I could go during my lunch break from work. I would leave the drug store the first few times with disappointment…over time with chagrin…even the pharmacist would come to me and whisper with such compassion, “C’est négatif”.   I would sit in my car and weep and drive back to work.

We were told we think about it too much. I was too stressed and needed a distraction. Annette told me that was why she adopted her first child and her daughter was born a month after her son came home.

Louise said it took ten years…she went on a trip out west and a year later she became pregnant. All these suggestions telling me it was all in my head.

So, I went back to university, went on a trip and chose UK where my roots were. Our next trip would be Germany and France to visit your father’s roots. Still, that was not enough. Then I spent two weeks at hospital passing tests and was told to come back in a few months for more tests.

Finally, we thought we just would not be blessed, so we decided to invest in a house and planned another trip to Spain. We would stop fixating on this as it was consuming us. I would cross the street sometimes if I noticed a pregnant woman approaching me on the sidewalk. I envied these women so much.

In March at the end of my 6 credit university class and awaiting to move into our new house, my friend and neighbour told me she thought I looked different…she could see a change in my face.   She encouraged me to get tested again.   I needed a distraction in case the results were the same and I didn’t want to raise my hopes. She came with me and we chose a Jean Coutu which was just opening in Longueuil. I did not want to see my usual pharmacist come back to me with that sad face.

The results came back and the pharmacist said casually “C’est positif”. I looked at him in shock. “Are you sure?” He nodded. I asked if he could write down the word “POSITIF” on the receipt and he did.

I sat in the car with my friend….we were giggling together. My legs were shaking so much I could not drive for a good fifteen minutes…sitting in our tiny green Toyota.   Your father was at work at Chambly Toyota. He was shocked…had to sit down and I showed him the rceipt [chuckling]. We were so used to bad news, it took a while to accept this wonderful news.

We moved into our new house in Saint Mathias in July and a few weeks later the pump was not working well in the basement and it was flooding. I was still in bed…your father was stressed and calling for advice on how to start it up. I was so calm and my whole body felt warm with joy…I finally felt little fluttering movements in my tummy for the first time and could care less of a little mess in our basement. [beaming] It still feels like yesterday.

It took time for you to finally come into our lives. After 7 years of marriage, on the 7^th of November, the 7^th Gagnon grandchild, you came into our lives. This beautiful, Gerber baby with the most beautiful blue eyes…such joy. How can life get better but it does. Each day, each month, love multiples year after year after year.

Love,

Mom xxx

The skies are grey today and it is chilly…not unusual for November in Quebec but the heart is warm and sunny. Happy Friday everyone and have a glorious weekend.

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One Liner Wednesday -Tunnel

Do not despair if you don’t see the light at the end of the tunnel because you are at a crossroad and soon you will take a turn and remember, you can lean on someone along the way.

This invitation brought to you through Linda’s One-Liner Wednesday. Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2025/09/17/one-liner-wednesday-pockets/

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Orange Shirt Day

Orange Shirt Day – September 30 2025

I just received my two Orange shirts for Orange Shirt Day on September 30th. The ones I had were from the same OrangeShirtSociety but five years ago. Actually, you will see Phyllis (Jack) Webstad wearing that particular T-Shirt on the videos I have included herein below. This is her story that started Orange Shirt Day to create an awareness of Residential schools.

In 2015, “the Orange Shirt Society was formed to create awareness of the individual, family and community inter-generational impacts of Indian Residential Schools with the purpose of supporting Indian Residential School Reconciliation and promoting the truth that EVERY CHILD MATTERS.” (c) OrangeShirtSociety

My heart aches every time I hear stories of how children were forcibly taken away from families. I cannot imagine someone ripping my five year old away from me like that and to be schooled in an environment that abuses you for speaking your mother tongue and tries to brainwash them to forget all of their family values and traditions.

This year, there was a contest in elementary schools in Canada and this creative 10 year old from Alberta created this one.

At the agency where I work, we are given one full day off work called Reflection Day . It is a time to reflect on what these young children endured in residential schools and how it impacted on their entire families and communities; it is also a time to reflect and learn more about Truth & Reconciliation.

I know I am early to post this but when September comes around, I always find myself more reflective on this important time. I like to explore and reflect on the beginning of our Canadian history. I wish I had learned more of this in my history classes as a young child…but it’s never too late to learn the truth now and unlearn the lies and biases.

© Cheryl-Lynn –_{^{Residing on the traditional and unceded territory of the kanien’kehà:ka of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy. I recognize and respect the Kanien’kehà:ka as the traditional custodians of these lands and waters.}}

I am sharing a video on where Orange Shirt Day originated along with a video in English and in French sharing where our Canadian history all began…

Story of Orange Shirt Day

French video notre début

English video our beginning

Originally posted on TournesolDansUn Jardin

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How could they say that? (SoCS Saturday’s Stream of conciousness)

This is Linda Hill’s Friday prompt for SoCS Saturday’s Stream of Consciousness is any word that starts with “ho”. Thank you, Linda.

How could they say that?

The video played on the news and a word hit her as if someone had called her a swear word. It was a word Emma was so stunned to hear describe something so horrific. It was about very serious events had taken place in the span of many years where young girls and young women were manipulated and groomed to do sexual favours. The thought of what these, now women, had to endure, made her heart ache.

She could not believe her ears when she heard the word describing these true events…being minimized simply as a political ploy. And yet, as Emma listened to the words flashbacks of her youth flooded back like a tsunami. She felt angry, sad, frustrated and then ill.

Memory is an interesting thing scientists and mental health professionals have talked about for over a century, starting with the trauma of the military and when they would return from combat; rather than experience calm and safety many would be haunted with flashbacks…PTSD can eventually be managed for many people but the memories never go away.

People remember through all their senses. So, a person can be triggered by a sound, a smell, a touch, a taste or what they see. Just think about it, when you smell freshly baked apple pie coming out of the oven…what do you remember? Emma remembers her grandmother’s pie.

She remembers playing a Frank Sinatra CD for her mom who had Lewy body Dementia and her mom’s eyes would light up, her spine straighten, and her body would move to the song…there was joy in her whole being.

Emma turns off the tv and goes to her office and turns on her laptop, scrolling for news highlights. She finds reading more digestible especially in the past few years. She sees highlights of wars and conflict in Ukraine, Cambodia, Gaza and turns to another site and there she sees it in black and white on the screen. It was not her imagination; she did not misunderstand what she heard. They called it a “A …. Hoax”.

Memories flooded her mind…remembering hearing comments her abuser, “Liar, slut, spoiled brat!” Emma understood why he did not want to admit his part in the assault and expected him to deny it but to attack her with those comments hurt as much as the abuse. Already she felt ashamed, blamed herself as many victims do. And yet, this was a lifetime ago…

She sat down and did some mindful breathing to calm down. Turned off the laptop and decided to listen to the brave women who were sharing their story on the tv. They deserved to be heard, and she would be a witness to their trauma.

This was different than listening to clients in her work…it touched every core in her body, heart and soul but still she wanted to witness their pain and honour their courage.

trauma
disclosed collectively
sharing their pain
building their courage
strengthening their voices

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Dear Emma – Sept 5, 2025

Dear Emma,

It’s been a nice quiet stacation for me this week. I usually decide about 2 days before going on a little trip just in case I end up not feeling well. My past experiences have been that I often wait too long to go away and find myself exhausted and end up nursing a cold. I learned my lesson. Imagine waiting a year to fly somewhere and ending up sleeping in until noon each day at an expensive B & B or hotel to start your day. So about 8 years ago I started planning wellness days more often during the year and never taking more than 7 to 10 days off in one shot. Those extra long weekends mean I am not so exhaustd come vacation time.

But this past week I had nothing really planned and my grand-daughter needed a place to go in the afternoon for 2 days since her first week at Kindergarten were half days. What a joy to have her come spend the afternoon here. It also taught me just how NOT in shape I am. Here I thought I was pretty good with my walks, my yoga stretches but boy when she left here at 17:00, I sat on my couch and fell asleep for a good hour …I think my drooling or sore neck may have woken me up for supper. [smiles] I checked my smart watch and just playing in the condo for 4 hours, I did about 3,000 steps in my 850 sq ft home. It must be the Hide ‘n Seek that did it.

I cannot get over how smart a five year old can be. I mean the memory they have. They are like a sponges and soak up eveything they see and hear. We did one 15 mins QiGong exercises Tuesday and Wednesday she was demonstrating the moves! How my brain has become a dried up sponge …I guess that is why I have to keep drinking my 2 litres of water daily to soak it up so I can take in more info. [chuckles].

This week was the deadline to put in my fall/winter vacation requests and I was contemplating going to visit my childhood friend in Key West (Florida) next March. I have cancelled twice already in the past…mostly becasue I did not want to leave my sick Bette (feline friend)…she passed last August at 14 yrs old. Fortunately it was at home and Kali, my younger cat was able to see and hopefully understnad why Bette was not coming back.

Okay, back to Florida travelling…I was going to call my friend to tell her I will make arrangements to fly down in March just after my 74th birthday so we can celebrate it together. But, then yesterday I saw on the news about Florida and vaccinations and then I thought of winter flus and I know, I know, I worry a lot about my health. It’s because when I get a cold that can last more than a week, it ends up bronchial pneumonia and I need antibiotics along with a stronger puffer. At home I know what to do…even if I cannot get a hold of my doctor soon enough, my pharmacisit knows my history and can help me. So now I am thinking…do I want to fly there? (I would still wear a mask…I do on longer trips on trains and here during flu season, I always wear a mask as well) but now I am concerned. I don’t mind wearing a mask fall/winter because it is cool or very cold outside but in the summer it is really not comfortable. Well, I will just have to wait and see. My daughter keeps telling me to go visit my friend while I still have the chance to visit Key West…and my friend may decide to come back to Canada to retire.

I try not to listen too much to the news…today at lunch time they were talking about unemployment has risen here…I imagine it is the same in the US as well. I worry for my grandson but he is still young and if work gets too discouraging, I do hope he goes back to school to get a college diploma..some trade that he can lean on. Now that he’s older maybe he will reconsider. I am hopeful and the fact that his gf is still in college, that may motivate him.

As for more serious news about tragedies and war, I read on a few sites and bloggers I follow rather than watch on mainstream tv…I find I can dose it better since it is so very sad and like many people we feel powerless.

Well, it’s Friday so wishing everyone a great and safe weekend.

Thanks, Emma, for letting me babble on.

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Bedtime snacks – mm mm Good! (This is part o SocS)

This is a response to Linda Hill’s Stream of consciousness and the prompt is TOAST. https://lindaghill.com/2025/08/29/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-aug-30-2025/

Bedtime snacks – mm mm Good!

Ah summer is almost over but when September is around the corner we often say it is over…we still have 3 weeks folks…do not despair. [smiles] I love the cooler weather though so I can hear myself think and not the ac and fans to push that cool air towards my bedroom. I don’t take heat very well and with allergies, I admit I have been indoors most of the summer unless visiting my grandchildren and then I will jump in their pool…okay, I don’t jump…I waddle up the stairs and then jump in the water.

We all hear and read about restrictions to eating before bedtime. Recently, I heard it was the 3, 2 1 rule. No eating 3 hours before bedtime, no drinking liquids 2 hours before and no devices including television 1 hour before bedtime. I sure would be thirsty and I get it, I will still have to get up in the middle of the night to go to the washroom…that’s fine. I keep all lights closed to make sure it is dark and I stay half a sleep and the path I take is always decluttered so I don’t fall [well that IS if Kali my cat does not make me trip but that’s another story].

Habits are very hard to break but sometimes discomfort with indigestion and/or acid reflux can tame some habits. I have a gigantic wedge pillow “just in case” so I can still enjoy my little bedtime habits.

When I was a child, I remember my grandmother would set the table before bedtime whether it was nine in the evening or midnight putting out jams, pâtés she had made, cheese (the strong cheddar for sure) and butter or margarine and a loaf of bread. Most of us toasted the bread and had sweet tea or milk. It was a time to talk about our day but sometimes there were deep conversations. I loved staying over my GrandMaman for sleepovers.

At home we were not allowed to eat before bed but my mom would sneak into my room with buttered bread with white sugar! [I still cannot get over that now since I struggled with insomnia as a preschooler!! but bless, Mom, for meaning well].

Eventually I moved in with my grandmother as a teen, so that ritual continued until I married. But, even then, I still would have my peanut buttered toast with a cuppa tea.

In the 70’s when we visited friends for an evening, around midnight, the host would take out leftover meats, pâtés, tête de fromage [head cheese/brawn], various cheeses from mild to very smelly [smiles] and different homemade jellies. Of course there was bread,crusty bread and toast for anyone who preferred this. Around two in the morning we would leave and be in bed by three. Of course we slept well…we were young!

However by 1990’s this was no longer a practice with most friend visits… snacks, like crackers eventually replaced toast and that was earlier in the evening with different cheeses.

Since I’m a night owl, I am careful not to burn the toast too much because the smoke alarm will wake up my neighbours in the building. I do try to have Greek yogurt late in the evening instead, but I usually go back to my toast with a slather of peanut butter. It is like GrandMaman saying “Bonne nuit”.

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Dear Emma 2025/08/28

Dear Emma,

As I try to declutter my busy mind, I thought I would leave some of this clutter with you, Emma, before I go for a much needed walk.

It’s my first day off and I am off for 10 days! Nothing really planned though. I usually plan 2 days before if I am going to go on a road trip (renting a car) or taking the train. I like to wait because sometimes after a few days off, I have not realized all the tension and tiredness I may have held within my aging body.

Fortunately, I do have wonderful things to look forward to next week…my grand-daughter is starting Kindergarten and only half days for the first 2 days, so I offered to have her dropped off at my place and her dad (my son) can pick her up after his work where he teaches at a different school. Lucky me!!!

I cannot help but remember the excitement and trepidation when my kids first started school. I cannot wait to hear how she has enjoyed her first days. It will be her first experience in an environment that speaks French and English. Her daycare was all in French. And she understands Spanish as well…hearing her mama and Abuelita and Abuelito speaking all the time. My son picked it up so well. I have tried but freeze when it comes to speaking directly to them…their Chilean accent is so different and then I feel silly sounding the words with a French accent. But I will have my beautiful nietita teach me along the way. When I say a few phrases on her visits with me, she tells me, “Good job, Nana!!” It is the memory as well…I cannot remember so many words when it comes to speaking and yet when I test myself, I am fine. I think I need to get another app than Duolingo. I have found one Youtube teacher very helpful…he explains so well why we English speakers make certain mistakes. https://youtu.be/stBbNZT-Gro?si=7xFid5Vcug4E472t I think I will choose 2 to 3 days a week to consistently listen to his eposides starting over from the beginning. [putting this on my Alexa to do list].

I used to be an avid reader but that too has decreased a lot. This summer I only read two books Mitch Albom’s The little Liar (which pushed me to tears but also to research more on the history as well.

The other book was “Cent ans d’amour” by Jeanette Bertrand (a reflection on aging). I am a slow reader in English so in French I am even slower but I got through it. It was as if she was having a conversation with me over a cuppa tea. It truly spoke to me…humbly. She was 99 when she wrote the book. At my young 73, I kept bobbing my head in agreement and understanding her narrative. She would have been my mother’s age but so ahead of her time…a journalist, a television public figure and advocate for women’s rights.

One line struck me…I will paraphase it, “When I wake up in the morning I feel every inch of my body ache… I look up and thank God, I am alive!” And the hours to oil the joints and flex the limbs a bit better is all worth it. When her great grand-daughter calls to say hello and asks how she is, her response is always, “I am very well…tell me about you.” I love that. I now look up at the ceiling when I wake up as I do a few yoga stretches and am thankful to be alive.

In the past year I have experienced a decline in some of my mobility…not related to my Fibromyalgia for which too many doctors blame any aches and pains eisther on FMS or aging…but I know my body and finally went to see my rheumologist and he was quite sensitive to my pain…the fact that he is probably about my age may have helped. Also I find rheumotologists are exposed to so much pain from patients and he is extremely empathetic. After several tests, they found considerable tears that cannot be repaired due to my age…rotary cuff (both sides) bicep tendons(both sides…he said sheepishly, “You have the shoulders of a football player. If only you were 10 years younger…now it is not possible.”

I have had two months to accept this…grieve what was …I know it may not be a big deal since I am lucky to be able to walk despite arthritis in several areas…those are manageable…but the arms means I cannot lift my grandchildren…I ask them to climb up on me (it works)…I like to do so much on my own…painting my rooms, knitting, reaching up is not possible without injuring myself more. Living alone makes it tricky. If I had a roommate around the same age, we might at least complement each other with each other’s mobility strengths.

So now I am looking for a handyperson who could flip my mattress, install curtain rods and other household chores I can no longer risk. Oh, stubborn as I am I have but pay for a week or so of agony which is really misplaced pride.

I just have to adjust. I DO consider myself fortunate for being healthy in mind and body. I still work 3 days a week from home now at a job I would do for free. I am lucky that age actually is a plus in my profession as a counsellor as long as I can still stay “sharp”. It gives me a sense of purpose…like many volunteer roles I have had…un raison d’être. I still have not found something to replace this when I retire but am searching.

For some odd reason, since 2020 where I had ample time to write here and on my other two blogs, my muse took a vacation…is rarely present. I do think it may also be due to all the changes in my life (the world’s lives) since 2020.

Walking to work mid-day used to stir my muse and I would dictate ideas in my phone. Coming back home at midnight, I would connect with my WP community and write for hours 2 to 3 posts a night. It was like food for me…I was pulled to do it. Of course since 2020 I have early day shifts…many choices of activities after work unlike when I worked late nights. I do miss writing and mostly connecting with WP community and so here I am spilling my heart and soul to you, Emma. En attendant that my muse comes back form her sabbatical.

I think I will go for my healthy walk now as I do have personal stuff to sort out …to keep what is necessaary and let go of what just turns in circles that makes me hostage to needless worry. Time to find the serinity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change what I can …and this walk may shed some light to give me wisdom to know the difference.

Thanks for listening, Emma…

thoughts caught in time – daily moments (troiku) | Tournesol dans un Jardin

thoughts caught in time    - troiku -   daily moments 25/08/28

Tik tok tik
Too much time
Overthinking

Tik tok tik
Listen 
The heart beating

Too muck time
wasted
going in circles

overthinking
losing track of time
dizzy spiralling 

© tournesol 2025/08/28

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Dear Emma May 9 2025

Dear Emma May 9 2025 une version française suivra

I have been learning more and more about neurodiversity and not only for my work but to understand some of the things that I do and say. Let me tell you, it is so humbling…oh boy, is it ever!!

Yesterday, I had a lovely visit from my dear friend and former work colleague from the 80’s and 90’s when I was still married. We became closer when I returned to Quebec in 2010…a friendship I so embraced and still feel privileged to be her friend.

I do not see many people on my days off. Over the past two decades I worked odd hours and a social life was next to nil save for the odd visit with family. The pandemic and working remotely (still) has continued this social isolation but again, I am blessed with 3 adorable grandchildren now that fill my heart with such joy.

I cannot complain about remote work, however, since it allows me to still work as I know my body would no longer endure the 2 to 3 hour commute every day.

Most days I work listening to people share their stories, their struggles and on days off I may see family but they are busy with their lives as well…I remember how busy life could get at their age and used to silently thank the universe my mom had a partner to appease the guilt I had for not seeing her as often as I would have liked.

…back to my visit yesteray, I was so happy to see my friend and as usual we are very comfortable sharing anything and almost everything with each other. Unfortunately, I have come to notice that with her and another friend I have a tendency to feel too comfortable…verbal diarrhea is my problem. I used to think it was just me being too isolated and I needed to open up but I also understand a bit more that it is part of ADD/ADHD…oversharing. I remember as a teenager, a seamstress told me to not share so much with people and if they ask personal questions to not be so willing to disclose. I tried to heed her advice but there are so many times things just blurt out. I can tell when I notice the body language of a person if I have shared too much. It’s as if I feel comfortable with some people like yesterday and I feel that they really “get me” and I feel their compassion and I end up in a puddle of pure emotions and dark secrets.

The following day or sometimes even a few hours later, I feel guilty…my over anxious brain rewinds the conversations and replays them over and over again. I feel so bad for having placed so much on this lovely person’s warm and generous heart.

I have a list I printed out a few months ago on how to manage “oversharing” to help my clients but to tell you the truth, it is really for me. I find I learn best when I teach and each time I advise or suggest something, I have applied it to myself and it reminds me to heed that advice…it is very humbling, let me tell you! My clients, my children and my close friends are my teachers and I am so blessed.

Emma, I had to blurt this out to you this morning as it has helped stop the racing thoughts of shame and guilt…that hamster wheel has slowed down and is just swinging back and forth gently. Thank you for listening as always.

Chère Emma, 9 mai 2025

J’en apprends de plus en plus sur la neurodiversité, non seulement pour mon travail, mais aussi pour mieux comprendre certaines choses que je fais et ce que je dis. Laisse-moi te dire que c’est une bonne leçon d’humilité… oh là là, c’en est une vraie!

Hier, j’ai eu la visite de mon amie chère et ancienne collègue des années 80 et 90, à l’époque où j’étais encore mariée. Nous nous sommes rapprochées quand je suis revenue au Québec en 2010… une amitié que j’ai tant chérie et pour laquelle je me sens encore privilégiée.

Je ne vois pas beaucoup de gens pendant mes jours de congé. Au cours des deux dernières décennies, j’ai travaillé à des heures irrégulières et ma vie sociale était quasi inexistante, sauf pour quelques visites occasionnelles en famille. La pandémie et le travail à distance (toujours) ont prolongé cet isolement social, parcontre, il ne faut pas oublé qu’heureusement, j’ai maintenant trois adorables petits-enfants qui remplissent mon cœur de joie.

Je ne peux pas me plaindre du travail à distance, cependant, car il me permet de continuer à travailler, sachant que mon corps ne pourrait plus supporter les trajets de 2 à 3 heures chaque jour.

La plupart du temps, je travaille en écoutant les gens raconter leurs histoires, leurs difficultés, et pendant mes jours de congé, je vois parfois ma famille, mais eux aussi sont absorbés par leur vie… Je me souviens à quel point la vie pouvait être chargée à leur âge et je me rappelle que je remerciais silencieusement l’univers que ma mère ait un partenaire, ce qui atténuait la culpabilité de ne pas la voir aussi souvent que je l’aurais voulu.

Revenons à ma visite de hier : j’étais si heureuse de voir mon amie et, comme d’habitude, nous sommes très à l’aise pour tout partager, ou presque. Malheureusement, j’ai remarqué qu’avec elle et une autre amie, j’ai tendance à me sentir trop à l’aise… mon problème c’est que je partage trop parfois et ça se transforme en diarrhée verbale. Je pensais que c’était dû à mon isolement, que j’avais besoin de m’ouvrir, mais je comprends aussi mieux que cela fait partie du TDA/TDAH… le besoin de trop partager. Je me rappelle qu’à l’adolescence, une couturière m’avait conseillé de ne pas tant dévoiler et de ne pas toujours répondre aux questions personnelles avec autant de facilité. J’ai essayé de suivre son conseil, mais il y a tellement de fois où les choses me sortent de la bouche sans filtre. Je peux dire, en observant le langage non verbal des gens, si j’ai trop partagé. C’est comme si, avec certaines personnes, comme hier, je ressentais qu’elles me comprennent vraiment, qu’elles ont de la compassion pour moi, et soudain, je me retrouve dans une flaque d’émotions pures et de sombres secrets.

Le lendemain, ou parfois même quelques heures plus tard, la culpabilité me rattrape… Mon cerveau anxieux rembobine la conversation et la rejoue encore et encore. Je me sens tellement mal d’avoir déversé autant sur le cœur chaleureux et généreux de cette personne.

Il y a quelques mois, j’ai imprimé une liste « comment gérer le partage excessif avec le TDAH» pour aider mes clients, mais en réalité, c’est aussi pour moi. J’ai remarqué que j’apprends mieux quand j’enseigne, et chaque fois que je conseille ou suggère quelque chose, je l’applique à moi-même, ce qui me rappelle de suivre mes propres conseils… une bonne leçon d’humilité, je te le dis! Mes clients, mes enfants et mes amies sont mes enseignantes, et je suis rempli de reconnaissance.

Emma, j’avais besoin de te confier tout ça ce matin, parce que ça m’a permis d’arrêter cette spirale de pensées remplies de honte et de culpabilité… la roue de hamster a ralenti et se balance doucement. Merci de m’écouter, comme toujours.

© Oliana 2925 05 09

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My mousy hair – SoCS March1/25

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS March 1, 2025

Continue reading “My mousy hair – SoCS March1/25” →

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Dear Emma- 2025-02-28

Last day of February…one of the darkest months of the year…I would say November to February inclusive tend to be emotionally and psychologically heavy months for many people all over the world but more in the Northern hemisphere…lack of sun we say. It is that the days slip into darkness earlier and earlier starting in September and by November the sky seems to be different shades of grey.

In the past month I have felt better seeing the days grow longer…that when I finish my shift at 16:30, it is not pitch-black outside…and each day there are a few minutes more of daylight. I find this encouraging.

I remember in elementary school walking home in November…how dark and scary it was…that long dreary walk. Adults looked scarier for some odd reason if I did not recognize a face. Living in a small town I did, know a few faces but those strangers who did not smile or nod when they passed by me seemed more threatening in the darkness.

This morning, I was trying to read Shadow Syndromes (John Ratey, <.D., Catherine Johnson, PhD) which I am really enjoying…I am reading a part where the author is talking about the noisy brain. Oh how I can relate to that…my brain will not shut UP especially when it is very quiet in the home or at night trying to sleep. Some mornings I wake up between 3 to 5 and my brain will not let me go back to sleep…chatter, chatter, chatter…then thoughts circle around worrying about this person or that person, then thoughts of the past and my regrets and guilt weigh so heavily even for things that happened decades ago.

Today I was reading and highlighting interesting passages but the noise in my brain was getting so loud, I broke down crying. When will it end? I am old now…yes, I think once we hit 70’s we can say we are old…not one foot in the grave old because I am healthy but still I feel it in my arthritic body…I feel it in my ADD brain that seems to struggle more and more to focus. But the worry and guilt a parent has when they worry about their children and grandchildren never lifts.

Thank goodness I still work 3 days a week…a job I love…I would do for free. It keeps my brain active; it fills my heart…really it does. I still have purpose…I am not quite ready to retire. I think of volunteering in different areas, but it must be something that brings me something…joy or purpose or both. I started working weekends at 14, then fulltime at 18 and only stopped for about a year after my second child. I don’t know what to do with myself if I am not working or volunteering.

I did enjoy decorating, painting my home and arts and crafts but arthtritis is making it more and more challenging.

Lately, I have been blessed with Saturday visits from my 4-year-old granddaughter. Oh how that brings me joy. We spend the entire day together…just the two of us. I have created a little reading nook in my bedroom for her and her toys are in that corner as well. My guest room is still an office and my cat, Kali’s refuge when she wants to get away from us humans.

I moved here during the pandemic, so working remotely and settling into an office was a priority. I did try to work in the dining room and then the living room. My daughter noticed this a year later and said, why not put it all in that spare bedroom…that way you can really relax when you are not working…no reminders of work so you can really unwind. Of courses she was right…I am like the shoemaker with torn soles sometimes, not adhering to the advice I give to my clients. Isn’t it often like that? The doctor who tells you to stop smoking and you see nicotine stains on their fingers, the hairdresser who is so busy with their work, their hair needs a bit of a lift.

Back to my reading…when I stopped due to a flood of emotions, I decided to come to my office and write. I started with a brief letter to a few colleagues and now here I am spilling my guts to you, Emma. It really does help to quiet my monkey brain.

I need to find a way to practice more forgiveness…for myself. That can assuage the guilt. As for the worry, well, I am going to have to trust more in the universe and pray for those important people in my life for whom I love so much. Perhaps repeating the Serenity prayer several times, a day…

G-d, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change; Courage to change the things I can and Wisdom to know the difference.


heavy snowfall
slows life momentarily
in February
bedlam throughout all the roads
‘til the slosh of melting snow

(we had a snowstorm here 2 weeks ago...still cleaning up the mess...30+ inches)

Thanks for listening, as always, Emma.

© Oliana 2025-02-28

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Dear Emma (haibun) – on Healing

The mind is like an old tapestry…well, “old” only if you are an older person.

This morning I was pouring my first cup of java and as I looked at my cup filling, a memory came to mind, “Be careful, too much of that will kill vitamin C”…I woke up with a cold coming on. I think the memory was really, “Cigarettes will kill vitamin C in your body”…a reminder of when I just learned I was pregnant for our first child and I quit smoking.

Isn’t it odd that I thought that? I supposed in this odd logic I was telling myself that coffee may not help me as I nurse this cold as much as lots of water and homemade soup.

I am reading The Body Keeps the Score by Dr. Bessel Van Der Kolk …well, have been rereading chapters multiple times because it takes me time to digest all the information. I read first, then highlight, then think about it and use examples on myself first. Later I pick up cues in my work and see how this information may be helpful…always teasing out pieces that connect or relate to a person trying to heal from trauma.

This morning, I was rereading a section entitled ‘The Mind is a Mosaic’ since I don’t have permission to quote Dr. Bessel Van Der Kolk here , I will share my experience/thoughts which is my interpretation of that section.

A part of me was looking at the dark liquid pouring in my cup and thinking it was not healthy for me, another part of me needed my morning joy…yes. My ADD mind of course was thinking of other things at the exact same time… I had umpteen conversations going on in my head. I want to write today since it’s my first day off my work week, I also want to follow my To Do list which includes preparing 3 to 4 spice blends I love to have on hand and visualizing getting my artist stool to sit at the counter since my back is acting up again. All this within seconds…flashes, words, images.

Back to the brain…the mind. I have learned through mindfulness meditation that if I can get 5 minutes out of a 40 minute timeframe of being present in my body, that is amazing. The rest of the time, I am chasing my “monkey brain” and gently nudging it back to the present. I have learned over the years to bring it back gently like it is a toddler losing focus.

But my mind is very busy lately not with just memories or thoughts; I am slowly feeling ideas and passions germinating to put on paper…physical issues have prevented me from writing as much as I used to as well as my muse playing hide ’n seek. Today I felt a pull…a gentle reminder of my community that I have missed. Checking up on a blog here and there has been a start. No pressure, right? I do embrace some of my followers who visit. It feels like they have not quite given up on me…I’m still part of the community/family but have been on a long journey.

Duolingo keeps nagging me to continue my Spanish lessons and after a few months away I did 3 minutes of one lesson today to stop getting the notification nagging me today. Then I read and listened to a lovely post filled with memories of songs from the past on the blog Muscleheaded. That sure stirred up so many memories. I found myself right back in the 1970’s …what was going on in my mind at that time and some songs made me very weepy. I have a list of songs in my Living Will if ever dementia visits me and some songs are on the black list. I think I will add some to it, so I am not brought back to a sad or traumatic times if ever I end up in a “fuzzy” or “foreign world” of dementia.

I remember how old songs brought life back into my mom’s eyes when I visited her…she had Lewey Body Dementia, but some songs brought awakened her whole being. I treasure those moments dancing a slow dance to Sinatra or Perry Como.

I feel encouraged today for my future quieter days.(retirement) What I mean is that since I still work 3 days a week, I know I will retire soon but I want to have something to do to replace that busyness I had, that purpose, that sense of accomplishment and fulfilment. I used to get that so much 5 +years ago from writing…maybe the pandemic chased my muse away to keep me present and focused for the extra demanding work our service has had…learning to juggle these new challenges.

I think I’ve reached a level of mastery in my juggling…now I can start adding more leisure pleasures like coming here and exploring others that bring me joy…like that first cuppa java does for me. Time to make my spice blends now: Biryani Masala, chicken/pork rub, steak rub and Garam Masala.

weaving is healing (troika) originally posted at Tournesoldansunjardin

tapestry weaving
teasing out bright colours
blending softer hues

tapestry weaving
searching for new stories
interlacing strands

teasing out bright colours
quieting the heart
muffling blaring shades

blending softer hues
weaving with compassion
mending frayed threads

© tournesol 2024-09-12

By the way, I say that my first cuppa java brings me great joy because I used to drink up to 10 cups a day and have limited myself to 1.5 (one mug) in the last 4 years…and that keeps me happy and my tummy thanks me by behaving.

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Dear Emma,

September 11, 2024

It’s a sad day today…everyone has their own story…on a micro level, here is my story.

I am pretty sure that all remember where we were the moment we heard the twin towers were hit.

During that time, I lived in Toronto and worked at a national youth helpline’s head office…my shift that day was 2pm to 10pm. My daughter, AC, worked at the criminal courthouse two buildings away from me, across the street from the US Embassy. She had left for work at 7:00 am. I had an 8am appointment with the vet nearby for, Desirée, our mini-schnauzer who was 13 yrs old. She had been struggling with her breathing. I knew she had an enlarged heart and wondered if it was her lungs or her heart or both…I felt guilty that I had not brought her more often for check ups. The vet said they would do Xrays and treat her and to come back by noon.

When I came back home, I called my supervisor to say I was taking the day off…he was a pet person so I knew he would understand. It was 8:50 …he said, “Turn on the

TV..now…hurry!” I did and as I did I saw the South tower get hit…the North Tower already had a dark cloud of smoke at the top…it felt surreal…someone was attacking the US…and then the “what if’s” were racing in my mind. By 10 am my daughter was back home…everyone was told to leave the building for safety reasons…we didn’t know if there would be another attack, and Toronto was the most densely populated city in Canada…what if?! Wayne, my supervisor told me all staff including counsellors were told they could leave if they did not feel safe…. managers took over the lines.

AC and I were glued to the tv watching the news…seeing the same reel played over and over…hearing about people stuck in the building…the black smoke…the chaos. I drove to the Vet at 11:30 to pick Desirée up…in the parking lot, I took a moment to catch my breath, crying, thinking ”what if this is the end for both countries” I wanted my son to be with me…as a mom I had sometimes worried about what if…the end of the world or our Western world became like a dystopia, I would want my 2 children with me. He was in Montreal.

The vet said they gave antibiotics intravenously and she should continue with more for two weeks in pill form. They found water on her lungs and I should come back for another check up in two weeks. When I got home, Desirée started gasping for air…AC and I rushed her out on the balcony…she was in her bed/basket and slowly life was leaving her body. I wanted to sit with her there as I knew it was her time to go but my daughter was shrieking and hoping we could bring her back to the vet and they would save her. She died in the car…by the time we got to the vet, they gave us a room to be alone with her…we stayed there for a very long time and I so appreciate the space and time they gave us.

When we came back home….we muted the tv for the day and entire week out of respect for Desirée.

For several months we prayed for the people who did not make it and their friends and families; for the first responders and firefighters, the volunteers, all pulling together to help anyway they could. Many Canadians went out to help our neighbours…we were all impacted and mostly for a while we all felt threatened.

Each time I took the subway to get to my downtown location, I worried…the youths who called our helpline were confused, scared and bombarded with questions…their parents and teachers were all impacted, and the youths felt their fear.

Desirée was our companion…she always slept at my feet when I went to bed, UNDER covers. She would scratch her way down under the covers, when I turned in for the night. Her last deep exhalation she would make giving into to sleep was the sound that helped me get to sleep. She never left my side when I took 6 months off due to a burn out…another time 5 months off for work related injury…she would lie at my feet hours and lift her head now and then to see if I was ok. She would run to my ex when he arrived from work and wag her tail and suck up to him to put him in a good mood…she was like the mood stabilizer for the family. She had these huge, big ears that stood up like a rabbit. We refused to have them touched or cut to fold them …we just adored her just the way s he was. I would come home for lunch and teach her to talk and sing. She would join in at all our birthday events ”howling” Happy Birthday and the song she would join in the most was, ”Only You” by the Platters.

Although I remember driving out to visit my mom and she was sitting in the passenger’s seat and a song by the Beatles came on and I was singing along to ”Love Me Do” and she drowned my voice within seconds!! Who knew that any song I sang was an invitation for her to sing along.

Miss you, Desirée…

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Dear Emma 2024-09-08

A true friend…

Dear Emma, Sept 8 2024

Well, I suppose I’m on a roll now and need to talk to you more, Emma these days. I set my portable desk near the patio window enjoying the nice cool autumn air (13 C) …finally, no more sounds of AC’s or fans…just the occasional passing car and people walking towards the park nearby. I so love autumn!!!

I spoke to a good friend two days ago, wishing them best wishes for their birthday…we had worked together…very closely in medical records for over 8 years. It was almost like a marriage…the place was small and filled with files of patients…both dead and alive. We also did emergency admissions…so imagine a small space with lots of stress. She was the perfect partner. My friend worked full time and had much more responsibilities than I did. I worked mornings only to be free for other responsibilities.

I was telling her about my children and how they never really seemed to forgive ME for the divorce (29 yrs ago) They never really knew how their father was with me and I never wanted to tell them (that was between their father and me) and I also wanted them to keep their good relationship with their father something I never had and knew how hard it was to feel a child had to take sides. Unfortunately, their father did complain a lot and during a time when teens are vulnerable; that was very hard for them to see and they had to find someone to blame for breaking up the family home. I get that.

I learned over time when I counselled on a Parent Helpline that many children will take out their anger for change and instability on the parent because they feel they will be loved no matter what. So I suppose I have been blessed…but when they are in their 40’s, I think that blessing can be turned into a curse and it is difficult to digest sometimes. I need /want to not take it personally and let it go…it is their journey.

I have apologized umpteen times over the years for their struggles and it is their responsibility to eventually let it go so they can move forward with love in their own relationships.

My friend reminded me how she recalls how they would be with me calling me at work and how I used to defend every faux pas my son did…always sticking up for him. I listened to her and a part of me wanted to jump in and defend him again but I remained silent. Instead, I was reminded at how caring and patient she was to listen to me vent and never ever did she tell me I was wrong. Never did she tell me that sometimes my kids may be wrong and needed more discipline…and I love her so much for being there for me. I had to see it myself in my own time. She was so patient to listen to my venting… a time when I first separated, and was very fragile, she just listened…and told me I was okay…I had every right to do what I needed to survive. I never felt judged by her…ever.

It gave me comfort to hear her recall some stories and all this time she always was there for me… I am so thankful she was in my life…and still is……a sister that never gave up on me…

Thanks for listening, Emma…always.


when I’m with a faithful friend
I so love who I am
seeing me
through their eyes

when I’m with my grandchildren
I’m so grateful
Seeing what they see
through their eyes

when I am with my cousin
I so love who I am 
seeing me
through those eyes

But
when I see myself
through your  eyes
I sometimes cringe
washed with
self-doubt & remorse


I suppose
Three out of four
aint’t so bad, eh?...

The glass is more than half full!



(c) Oliana 2024-09-08

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Dear Emma – 2024-09-06 (Haibun)

Sept 6, 2024

Dear Emma,

It’s been a while and I have had so many things to share…a thought floats in my mind and I write it out in my head, and then the initiative to go to my keyboard is not there. So many months…no, actually, it’s been since 2020 I get these thoughts floating in my head and I lost the habit of going straight to my laptop. It is not as if I don’t have the space or the time…time? Hell, yes, I have lots of time but it is the inspiration…the energy. The thoughts float until they just evaporate and when it is time to sit down and try to remember those thoughts, I forget the gist of it or it loses momentum.

I have tried to set my laptop at the kitchen counter, ready. Then I get fed up of the reminder of my blank mind or absent muse, so I place the laptop back in my office next to my work laptop. I may write an email now and then or a greeting card for someone …like in August my neighbour’s husband died suddenly…I wrote a poem to insert in her sympathy card. Last week I reworked a song for my grand-daughter’s 4^th birthday to put in her baby book.

Time…I think that is the problem…too much free time. When it took me 2 to 3 hours to get to and from work, I came home exhausted and writing was a way to get in touch with my soul. Working remotely since 2020 has had its benefits…my arthritis does not scream as often and I have more energy but perhaps do not need that writing to get in touch with my soul…I have too much time to do that…too many words garbled in my head.

At first it was the anxiety…worried about dying, and the welfare of all my loved ones…the isolation caused too much worry. And out of all the provinces in Canada…Quebec was the only one that insisted on curfews…being fined up to $1500 if you were past curfew. These curfews were set to protect us but was it really? It was a way for our government to control the people because they had not controlled their health care system. No, no, I am not getting on the bandwagon of anti this and anti that. I jumped at the chance to get vaccinated to protect myself and others…I jumped at the idea to isolate ourselves and wear masks way before we were told to…even before the pandemic. I was using a mask during flu season on public transit because I was fed up of catching bad colds that turned into bronchial pneumonia way too often. But the curfews were preventing young people to meet up outside dressed warm to see their friends…it made shift workers live through fear and worry because they did not always have the proper paperwork…it was regimented way too strictly. But I think governments do this when they live in fear, scratch their heads and are not sure what to do …like parents when their teen may be out of control (the virus in this case)…so they grounded us. Enough about that…I so hope governments have learned better…have looked at Europe and all over the world to see what may have worked better because we are certainly going to be faced with more scares…I think we are aware of that. And oh, how I pray for my children and grandchildren.

But I think I got used to being isolated. Before the pandemic I worked evenings and never saw my family and friends except weekends…and 2 months before the pandemic I got a part time shift days…had never worked days since my return to Quebec in 2009. So maybe…I am thinking out loud here (bear with me for rattling on a bit)…I need to get used to visiting people and places close by. I had started traveling solo from 2015 to 2019 and got the fever).

I no longer have a car and renting one back then was amazing to go on road trips for a week, stopping at AirBnB’s along the way. But now it is sheer luxury…it used to cost $20 to $45 a day and now it is $100 to $120 a day. That makes renting just to visit a friend outside the bussing territory pricey on a foxed budget. I know I have to also get used to my new environment. I moved a month before the pandemic and I am much further from accessible services…oh, sure, shopping is fine but I was used to being 20 mins. from Montreal…where my doctor is, where my favourite hospital and the home office where I can pop by now and then to see colleagues. Now I am 1.5 hour away one way with lots of walking up and down stairs (metros and busses) not so great for fragile joints…but it was more affordable to buy a home here.

I need to figure out what kind of resources, volunteer work, social activities exist in the area so I can feel more at home when I DO retire. For now those 3 days of work give me purpose and of course, I still love what I do. Yes, I would do it for free because it is more needed even now.

I have been experiencing what many seniors were living experiencing when I worked in homecare 30+ yrs ago.

A few days ago I was talking to an old friend about how important it is for young people to NEVER promise they will visit…maybe use other words, like “I will try to come more often” or “ I will try to see if I can come visit and will let you know before.” Last week my grandson said, “I’ll go have supper at your place next week”..usually he does show up because his mom is away on vacation and he comes over for a few hours…we have dinner, and he either goes back home or visits a buddy…20 yr old start their outings way past 9pm, right? Well, I still remember even in my 40’s I used to meet friends after 9 if it was not a dinner date. Anyway I never heard from him and that’s fine. I totally understand how he is adjusting to a new job etc. I would never want my kids or grands to think I was expecting their visit because I know that would would make them feel bad. But it got me thinking…

Before I went back to uni for my degree in Social Science and Human Relations, I did a certificate in Gerontology. I would do friendship visits to seniors who were alone or taking care of a loved one. Then I worked as a PSW for a few years and then medical records which paid my way through uni during that time. Anyway, I remember how many seniors would anticipate visits and some never showed up. I felt bad for them but did still quite admit how “life happens”.

I was raised by my mom and grandmother…so I remember when I left home how my grandmother really enjoyed my visits and over time, I went less and less…I moved 40 minutes away and started a family of my own and working and the business of life made those visits less and less. She was never alone because my mom was always there and other friends and family were there but still I know how special I was to her. My grand mother was very much loved by our small community. But still, last week I wondered if I had ever promised GrandMaman, to visit more and I felt bad thinking I could have done better by her.

She had saved us from living on the streets…literally. She sacrificed so much for us. When I was 6, GrandPapa was dying, she took us all in while my parents were separated for a year…never did I hear her complain…she would ask me to sit with my grandfather and keep him company which I loved to do and felt so important holding his hand. And then the final divorce when I was 13, taking in our mom and two young teens…moody and not always fun to be around…teens who ate a lot…teens who made noise at night (Beatles, Rolling Stones and Temptations) because we went to bed…NEVER…yes, I could have done better. Even if I had my kids later…I could have given her more quality time.

So I was thinking back on my Gerontology days and wondered if our courses included that kind of info…I would love to share this with volounteers and PSW’s to be careful what you say and mean what they say especially to seniors who do not have family nearby. I am lucky…I do have my two children and their children and good friends…it is up to me to reach out more and stop thinking I may be a burden.

I recognize some things I may have said or done in the past with my mom and grandmother and realize now how it may have impacted on them because I am at that stage now. For example when I was 50 something I realized suddenly when I hit the pillow at night my mind just woke up and worry took over…I worried about my adult children, driving and “what if”…Now I understood what my mom would always do and she would take out her rosary and go to bed with it every night; I remember apologizing on one of my visits, telling her that “I finally get it, Mom”…I will never forget that beaming smile she gave me. Maybe there are some things you just can’t get until you get to that stage in your life…but it sure does not hurt to let some folks know to store in the attic of their brain, just in case it can serve them…

Aging (troiku)

Aging
does not produce wisdom
   …just, awakenings

Aging
humbling way to say
   I told you so

Does not produce wisdom
without the right
   nourishment

…just, awakenings
emerge humbly when
    … shit happens

Thanks for listening, Emma, as always…unconditionally.

© Oliana 2024-09-06

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Dear Emma,

I hope people had a lovely Mother’s Day yesterday but mostly that for those who found it overwhelming that they took cae of themselve on this day.

You know how we (humans) seem to focus on the “not so happy” feelings sometimes and not the joys we do have? Well, I woke up with the latter Sunday morning. For days I have been missing my mom…a lot. I know it may seem silly because if she were alive she would be 97 and I was so lucky to have her in my life as long as I did, but still…she’s my mom!

Anyway I woke up plannning my day in my mind…feed the bff’s (best feline friends), have a cup of java, exercise toes and feet (I’ve been working on my mobility these days with sore feet) and I was planning later to take the bus to the florist 5 stops from here, get a nice bouquet for my mom, then walk to a different bus stop to go to the cemetery. I was actually surprised to see that this florist was so close to my place. I could walk on normal days but the feet need TLC these days.

After putting in my toe separators for a 10mins exercise, my phone rings. I can see it is my son and when I answer I hear Lara my 3.5 yr old grand-daughter…”NANA!!!!” Hmm, I guess it is not a phone call but a video call again…after fidgetting clumsily with my phone I see that adorable face and Shirley Temple curls smiling at me, asking me in French “As-tu fait un beau dodo, Nana?” [did you have a nice sleep?]

They wished me “Bonne Fête des Mamans!” and asked me what my plans were. I mentioned just going to the florist to pick up flowers for Nanny and they asked to come with me. Well, that sure tickled my spirits!

I was not sure if they would stay here for supper after so I hurried to vacuum and wash the floors everywhere except the bedrooms. Moving the cat furnture and anything that is not nailed to the walls into my office and bedroom. By the time I had showered and dressed, they arrived with a lovely surpsise!

I was so glad I cleared up the space in the living room and then I rolled in my suiticase on wheels with tons of stuffed animals for Lara and Gabriel (18 months) along with their ‘surprise eggs’…I fill in a plastic egg with treats (mostly cheese, cut up veggies but sometimes cookies (if parents say yes).

We went to the florist and then to the cemetery which was crowded..always is on Mother’s Day…I must go back alone on my mom’s birithday in June so we can have a nice quiet conversation…

It was cute to see Lara…I told her it was a park for older folks, not a play park but it was very pretty and peaceful. It really is a nice place…there is nice pond with flowers and shrubs and benches around the pond. I especially love the weeping willows. I have written a few poems sitting there and even made some greeting cards from the photos (without saying where the beautiful image is from…some people cringe at the word ‘cemetery’).

We taught Lara to not walk on the plaques on the ground with words on it, so she would ask me to read some of them all the way to my mom’s spot.

three generations
honouring their matriarch
Mother`s Day field-trip

I remember my kids telling me when they would stay at my mom’s for a few days, she would have a picnic at the cemetery where several departed family members were resting. I only heard about this when I saw some photos from my mom’s album when she passed.

Mom had a way of visiting her dad and siblings and later her mom and made it a fun day…a visit rather than a sad day. I like that. At the time I did not see it as positive but a bit gruesome. I get it now especially seeing Lara’s smiling face. Yes, I think if she spends time here I may take the bus with her to go there…taking the bus is a treat too for little ones who are used to being driven everywhere. My grandson loved our trips to the city by bus and Métro.

We went back to their home for a fun visit at the park and then a nice dinner.

hear the music
squeals and giggles
toddlers on the swing

After dinner Lara sat next to me with a book she wanted me to read and Gabriel sat on the other side. I had never read it before and it was so cool. As I read, I could feel both children huddle closer to me and looking up at my face as I acted out a lot of the words. Their mom laughed saying I looked as excited as the children were reading it. I actually was…I love discovering new children’s stories. I also like making up children’s stories.

I had such a lovely day and slept like a baby last night.

Tomorrow I will be having a belated Mother’s Day dinner with my daughter. What a full week filled with love.

My heart is swelling so much I feel it against my chest…

Thanks for listening, Emma.

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Dear Emma – 2024-05-07

I had the nicest visit this passed Saturday. My amazing grandson came for a visit and brunch. I love family meals but oh, how I embrace those intimate visits!! I feel privileged that a 19 year old still goes out of his way to drive to come and visit his old Nana. [big goofy smijle]

He started working over a month ago part time but he had not mentioned that in his texts. I was so excited for him. It is seasonal work and he talked to me about his plan in the next year. Long term is tough as he is still not sure what he wants to major in post secondary studies so taking some courses independently in the iterim is a great way to try and figure that out. He knows that his grandfather went back to get his high school diploma after we were married at 22. It’s not easy to figure out and he knows I changed career and went back to school at 35 so I hope that gives him an idea that there are no one size fits all solutions.

Anyway he does seem more upbeat…the work is landscaping and the outdoors is an excellent job for the spring to fall and the fact that he is working for a friend who started up his own business is pretty cool.

I took advantage of having a young technical savvy person around to set up my pet monitor/camera I purchased for when I go out for a day or two for my bff’s (best feline friends). It looks like R2-D2 …so cool!

seeing that look
filled with light and hope
warms Nana's heart
feels like an early gift
for Mother's Day.

(c) Oliana 2024-05-07

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Dear Emma, 2024-04-28

Dear Emma,

A text from T woke me up at 7:25 …a response to a text I sent him a week ago. I figured he was on his way to sleep since he often stays up all night….. I worry so much about him. I wish I could counsel and/or mentor him more. I am not his parent and I don’t want to nag, lecture or push him a way but I so worry about him. Since 2020 his mental health has taken a dive and I think the pandemic was the tip of the iceberg. His learning differences caught years too late may have put him in a place of defeat. I feel he has little confidence in himself.

I wonder sometimes if he would have been the only child if that would have changed…the drama of the blended family with one child who caused lots of trauma…or was it comparing himself to step siblings…something he never had to do when he was a little guy…but after 9 years of being just his mom and himself, he suddenly became a family of 5…there were huge adjustments, lots of adjustments; I wonder how he has processed all of this. It used to be him and his mom against the whole world…counting on his grandfather and sometimes me. But in all of this, I still feel he knows he can count on me and his grandfather. I know he can tell his mom when his emotional health gets close to defeat but still…he is stuck.

It is not unusual at 19 to question where you are going in life especially today but still…he does not have a job to lean on, adult activities like work and responsibility to get a taste of life…instead I feel he is too discouraged and has no ambition because he knows not what he wants in life…wish I could gently nudge him into an area where he could find a glimmer of hope…see there are moments of happiness in life …how our youths are struggling today! How I love this little guy who is now becoming a young man.

What is Happiness?


you cannot chase it
you cannot look for it
you need to be content
with what the universe brings you
to be open to flares...moments of joy
that lift the corners of  that frown…

my cats made me smile today,
the sunshine brought me joy
new blossoms on a plant
on my bedroom windowsill,
sipping my morning java makes me sigh…

feeling warm water
in the shower eases the pain
from aching joints
see the pain run down the drain
gone for a moment or two
moments I embrace…


***

today is a lovely day
sun rays on my windowsill
hear my plants sigh

Thanks for listening, Emma,

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Dear Emma

Today is my last day of a brief vacation…a staycation I just learned that word from a friend in Ontario. In Quebec we say “Balconville” meaning we aren’t going anywhere. Well, whatever you call it, I have “stayed” put for 4 years and in the past I longed to travel and missed seeing old friends and even new faraway friends…but this year, I just take it as it comes.

I realize that some of my hesitation to travel is no longer fear of sickness but leaving my cats. Since I work remotely they are not used to seeing me leave. Heck, when I get ready to go out for the day (shopping, walking etc.) Kali (the younger one…my beautiful silky long haired black cat) follows me like a puppy and sits on my bag. Bette, beautiful exotic Siberian mix and trusted older BFF (best feline friend) gets nervous and wobbles to me to be petted. She is almost 15 …so about 80 in our years. It is not the age that has hit her. It is the move here 4 years ago…she does not like change. I rescued her when she was 3 from her owner who had a terminal illness. It took months before she came out of hiding to stay near me. Anyway, I do believe the stress of the move, the constant buzzing of Amazon parcels arriving during the pandemic, aged her. For over 2 years she ran under the couch every time she heard that buzzer.

My adult children live 20 mins away but they also work, have children and so much going on in their lives that I cannot ask them to drop in when I travel like the old days when my son was single and had a simpler life.

I did hint around with 2 new neighbours in my block and I have 2 who offered to come keep the girls, Kali and Bette company an hour each day when I am gone. I feel the presence is more important than the food …but of course I have 2 automatic feeders and purchased a 3rd litter box so they don’t have to deal with that if I am away just 3 days. Longer than that, I am not quite ready yet….baby steps.

In May I have a staff development meeting for 3 days in Ontario and have accepted. I so look forwarad to seeing my old colleagues and friends. I will not have time to visit family…more than 3 days, I am not quite ready.

Now back to my last day of vacation today. I woke up having dreamed the oddest dream. I had to replay it in my head a few times to see if it was actually a dream, lucid dream or my mind wandering as I snoozed an extra hour this morning.

This is the gist of it: I am noticing how hot it is outside …I mention out loud, “Oh my, it is about 45C today and should go up to 50C…boy those AC’s are going to be overworking like crazy!” [that is 115F to 122F) Then out of the blue, my daughter is next to me and says, “We will no longer need air conditioners, Mom. This is what life is going to be now.”

I gasped, thinking that if it continues to get hotter and hotter here in Quebec, the wild fires that have already started a month ago and the heat will kill so many. I woke up and wondered if I would even make it to 80. I know that from June to September I hibernate in my air conditioned condo because I really cannot take heat…my migraines get really bad, and my asthma acts up. I am such a miserable person in humid heat like we get summers. I am not social and you would not want to be around my unhappy self those days either.

Thoughts kept racing in my ADD brain…why am I working so hard to pay off my mortgage? Why am I so worried I won’t have enought $ in the last years of my retirement? Why do I keep thinking of tomorrow as if it is 10 to 20 yrs away of planning when tomorrow may be much closer?

Thank goodness 6 months ago I got back into Mindfulness meditation and Yoga. No, I do not practice it daily but I do try to be more consistent. Also, I do have several key phrases I tell myself when my brain won’t “SHUT UP”. Many of these strategies actually help my clients as well…so, it’s a win win. I learn to grow and learn to teach. Hmmm, I wonder if anyone has ever coined that phrase? Should I copyright it? [chuckles]

I checked my emails and received a recording of a webinar on Traumatic Brain Injury and Intimate Partner Violence. So I watched that and took a few notes. I thought it might depress me to watch this given my state of mind, but on the contrary, it allowed me to step outside of myself and learn something and acquire some strategies for future clients on our hotline.

I am going to try 30 mins of yoga now and then go out for a brief walk…it is a glorious sunny day at 4C (39F) so may as well take advantage of this nice cool spring weather.

Thanks for listening,Emma.

Life in the slow lane
HONK!  boost of reality
time to overthink
such wasted space filled with angst
look outside...the grass is green!

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Dear Emma ~ Apr. 5/24 (haibun)

It’s been a while…I have been rereading The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron these past few months and am now nearing Week 12. I did morning journals each morning but my experience different from the late 1990’s was that I actually did the morning journals and most of the tasks in each chapter. Of course I am not the same person I was 30 yrs ago either [smiles].

Since the pandemic, I felt uninspired to write…not sure if it was “blocked” per se but for some odd reason I had more time to write being isolated for 2 years and yet writing felt like being too much in touch with soul. I may have waved my muse away and settled to keeping busy cleaning, working, reading, numbing myself on the tele…worrying. I had just moved into a new condo one month before the lockdowns and there were lots to do…that was my excuse.

I remember journaling one reflection these past few weeks, “writing would take up too much of my Worrying time”. hmmm 🤔 I am a worry wart…I prefer that term to struggling with generalized anxiety…it sounds less serious. It sounds like a character trait and not a diagnosis. However, I do worry and ruminate a lot. If ruminating was calculated in jogging time, I would be 40 lbs lighter and able to run the Boston Marathon!

I woke up one morning after spending a few weeks worried about a family issue and once that was resolved I felt relieved when I went to sleep that night but when I woke, I stared at the ceiling and thought to myself, “NOW, what am I going to worry about?” I felt lost!! That shocked me to hear my mind say this to me. It told me that I actually have a choice…to let some things go or not.

Oh for sure, I know what I should do…I counsel my clients on this but I am the shoemaker with holes in my shoes and leather falling apart. Yep, that’s me!

Let’s backtrack to 2020 and under all the stress and lockdowns, tragic news reports…crying every time the news came on..worrying about my children and grandchildrens’ future! I discovered something about myself that has helped me.

I am quite clumsy…have fallen often since I was a kid…it is as if don’t look where I am walking…I also forget why I am going to get something in my bedroom and come back to the kitchen and OH there it is and it has comes back to me. ( Yes I know that is not unusual especially post menopause.) But again, these have been happening to me for decades when I was in my 20’s! Still…I worry about dementia…my mom and her mom both ended their lives with this unforgiving disease. And as I am aging, I do think about that.

I had recently tripped on a piece of ice one January in 2021, on my way to the bus to get my Covid vaccine. The next day my son kept asking me what was wrong with me that I fall all the time…was there perhaps something wrong with my brain…not those words exactly but on video chat he had this patronizing look on his face as if I were losing my mind and I just said, very bluntly, “I don’t know!!” and ended the call. [I so missed the old land lines and phones that you could just hang up with a BANG at that moment…grrr. Anyway, I started doing some research about being clumsy, tripping, falling, forgetting, jumping from one topic to another …and there it was ADHD/ADD. I felt relieved!! Here I was thinking it referred ONLY to difficulty focussing and daydreaming because I did not have the hyperactivity component.

In 2020 and 2021, I had been taking more webinars with work to help our clients (5 to 30 yrs olf) and getting more informed on neurodiversity encompassing various conditions.

I always knew I had ADD but thought it was just being a day dreamer…had to read chapters over 2 to 3 times especially in university [I returned to university in my mid 30’s] Heck, I would record myself reading chapters and drive around listening to myself before an exam especially in psychology because there is so much theory to memorize.

But now I could start applying some of this information on myself. What a wonderful way to experience some coping strategies and seeing what works well and what may not work so well.

I looked over my notes from work, subscribed to several newsletters such as healthline.com to get weekly articles; have joined multiple podcasts I listen to on my walks and when doing housework.

I was learning to see myself more clearly…brain fog was not just my Fibromyalgia or dementia…getting frustrated when I had deadlines or too many tasks all at once made me get very impatient and stressed…more disorganized. And so then I started applying many of the strategies I had been telling clients to “myself”.

I have a To Do notebook I write things down daily since then and what did not get done, transfer over the next day but the fact that I can tick off some things really feels good. I know I had suggested this for years to my clients but now I was actually reaping the benefits!

I have grown to appreciate and laugh at myself sometimes…our workplace is much more informed now on neurodiversity and many staff members are coming out and proudly sharing what works for them and what does not. It is such a more welcoming and inclusive workplace now since 2020!!

So maybe my writing slowed down a lot duirng a time I needed to get to know ME or more importantly, accept me…embrace who I am.

I did still write a poem here and there but mostly to encourage friends who were isolated like most of the world…sending out snail mail homemade cards with a poem included on heavy paper to use as a bookmark. Snail mail was my gift to my friends and family. I purchase 100 stamps at a time to always have some handy. Walking to the mailbox which is 1 km from my home was also another incentive to go out for a walk especially when we were all afraid to.

After rereading Julia Cameron’s book, I realize that I am the person blocking myself. There are many exercises on self-reflection into our past. I always had encouragement as a child …my mom would patiently listen to this 6 year old make up stories and she always looked so interested widening her eyes at the right time too!!! [bless my mom for being such an attentive and patient mom].

I did get people who blocked me in pursing my studies…going back to uni and getting my degree but not writing…I always wrote out my feelings, especially anger because I never wanted my kids to see me show this towards their dad. Still I think I have life, responsibilities, self-worth or lack thereof that blocked me.

In my early 30’s I did attempt taking a writing course for children’s books but realized that would not pay and the family was in need of money at that time. So I suppose life happened as well which may have locked me. I realize I do not want to make money though…when I am writing for a competition or if work asks me to write something, it feels forced. I have to do it out of pure enjoyment…many times especially writing poetry (more specifically Waka) it is a moment I am meditating mindfully…a specific moment and I focus only on that moment.

In 2013 I started blogging and it was this amazing WordPress community…so many wonderful people reading me, and I learned so much from many bloggers as well…I grew, I got better by “writing each day” and in time, it became a “need”.

During the pandemic for some reason, it was not a need…perhaps I needed to get to know ME more with my atypical quirks and respect who I am. I certainly don’t think I have dementia each time I get flustered or lose my train of thought now.

Eleven weeks of writing 3 pages each morning by hand was really helpful to get the juices running again. I am not sure I can continue writing by hand as much…the arthritis in my wrists and fingers just cannot handle it …so I may write just a page and write more often here to you, dearest Emma.

Typing can usually keep up with my running thoughts but writing is always two or three sentences behind and it is hard to catch up. I have to literally stop writing and tell my mind to STOP. It’s like trying to keep up with a dance class and I am always 5 steps behind breathlessly shouting “Hey, wait for me!”

I will be visiting you more often, Emma. However, I do see the purpose of ruminating in some cases when the thoughts bring me joy…I remember seeing a video of my 3 yr old grand-daughter opening a Valentine card I mailed her and she takes her time trying not to tear the card inside, seeing it as a gift to her and once she opens it she shouts, “It’s a HOLIDAY! Thank you, Nana!”

pen to paper
that brief moment
put into words

pen to paper
recalling that joy
freezing an image
alas! the moment has passed!
like a butterfly in flight

(c) Oliana 2024/04/05

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Dear Emma – Sept. 9, 2023 (haibun)

Sept 9, 2023

Dear Emma,

It’s 2 :50 am and I cannot sleep. Okay, well, I was watching a movie with Hugh Grant who is a screenplay writer and had to take a teaching job. Halfway through it my mind kept wandering back to my grandson and I kept crying. So what ails the soul, a cuppa tea should soothe, right? So I made myself a cuppa tea and so many memories and thoughts are swimming in my mind…I don’t know where to start. Regrets, fears, worries and more regrets.

This afternoon I had a long telephone talk with a dear friend…we talked about a lot of things…deep, heavy and emotional stuff. I love and embrace the friendship we have.

I was talking about writing a letter to my children for them to read when I die. I was going to say “pass” but I find that so very conservative and trite. It is not who I am. We die. We all die. We are born and we end up dead some day…that’s life. We start off in life when we are “born” and then we end up “dead”. For some reason in Western culture, the latter seems to almost be a 4-letter word. Well, it is just a word. The end of the life cycle. So here are important 4-letter words: born, life, live, love, hope, kiss, shit, piss, feed, grow, good, evil, work, play, talk, sing, walk, they and the list goes on. But I digress…we are born, we live, we work so we can live and play. I think if I were to choose only a few 4-letter words that encompasses life is born, live, work, play, love, weep, care, hurt and dead. There that includes most of life, right?

“ The Official Scrabble Player’s Dictionary states that there are 3,996 legal words that can be used in that specific word game.” and there are roughly 150,000 4-letter words in the English language according to the Free dictionary. https://www.thefreedictionary.com/4-letter-words.htm

Anyway, back to death and why our society cannot use the word dead to describe a person who is no longer living. We say we want to protect the children or not seem crude to say, “my mom is dead” …we say we don’t want to make people uncomfortable and mostly WE don’t want to feel uncomfortable. But why does death have to be the end? It is only the end of the life of a body but the soul still lives. That spirit we all have. That soul that took up life in a body when we were born but what if that soul was recycled? You know when we were very little we had memories of perhaps a past life…I wonder about that sometimes. Listen to 3 to 5 years olds talk about life and the stories they come up with. We think they have an imagination but what if it is not?

What about these geniuses who started playing a musical instrument at 2 or 3? What about those young persons who started reading very young or writing or dancing etc.? did they remember some things from another life. We call them “gifted”. Gift, there is another 4-letter word.

I do believe there is another life in another dimension we are not privy to. Some call it heaven…and maybe it is. I do believe we connect with some people and they try to communicate with us after they die. Some of them do. I felt my mother for the first 6 months after her death. And once in a while she visits me in a dream and I am in the greatest mood the next day. I have never dreamed of my father though and yet, I have sensed his presence several times but he does not communicate…it feels like he is just checking up on me, or is he afraid to? that could very well be for the life he led, for the suffering he caused so many people. I only wanted one thing from him. After 30 years of not speaking to him or seeing him…his last 5 years I was present in his life. Looked out for him when I could but in all the years after he left us…then after he molested me…all I wanted to hear from him, just ONCE, was “I’m sorry”. And yet it was too hard for him to say. I still loved him despite everything…or maybe it was a longing for a father to be a real dad to me that I longed. Saying I’m sorry, is admitting you did something and I suppose he was too ashamed or didn’t give a damn…I hope he was ashamed and that allows me to forgive him for the pain he put us all through. Shame makes him more humane.

Tonight I was thinking of my grandson…I worry so much about him and his mental health. I worry about his future. I replay scenarios I have heard him and his mom play and it just breaks my heart. I keep silent because it is not my place to criticize the parent who is raising him. But then I have regrets that are too familiar. I wonder if it would help him if I did say something. I don’t think so. I remember how tough it was when my kids were teens and young adults. They were growing into adulthood and taking their place but they were also angry with me for the divorce and it confused them as well as made their life less stable.

For now, I have told my grandson, I am here if he needs me without criticizing anyone. But as a grandparent, I can be the buffer to ease the pain…I can be a safe place to run to or safe space to talk about what is troubling him. So for that I embrace that role and love him so damn much.

I love my daughter, his mom, and know how life has been such a struggle for her…I admire all that she has done to get where she is…all that she has done to raise her son and 2 step sons. She is such a giving and generous person. I don’t think I could have partnered with another person who had young children especially if their own mom was in the picture and causing grief…drama to the family. But she stuck it out…helped them get through difficult times, taught them how to behave, have manners and gave so much of herself selflessly to them and loved them as her own. But since the past 3 years the pandemic and family dramas did not spare her. It has been difficult on her, her partner, her kids…and all are going through their own phases in life and living under the same roof! I get that.

I just want my grandson to know he can count on me when he needs a break or just a listening ear. My grandmother gave me that and I am stronger for it today.

I thought I could not sleep because my muse was helping me write but I think I just needed to diffuse and get the words out of my mind. No poetry this time, Emma…just ramblings of an old woman who loves her kids and grands so very very much.

Thanks for listening…as always, good night.

tik tok tik tok
thoughts run on the hamster wheel
time never stops

(c) Oliana whispering insights Sept 9, 2023

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Dear Emma, first snow fall (haibun)

Looking out the window this morning I smiled…our first snow covering the ground and STILL snowing gently. Kali, my black cat, looked out mesmerized by that white stuff on the ground. The tree branches were starting to get covered and I saw a squirrel scurry up quickly that same tree. I always feel magic at that first snowfall. My mind quickly regresses back to my childhood…walking to school and sticking my tongue out to catch a flake or two, cooling my tongue.

Last night I watched a bit of news with mixed feelings hearing about the Poland…now what? Feeling fear, anxiety, I started crying, so turned the tv off and turned to my John Grisham novel which always helps to switch my brain off worry for awhile. A few hours later I turned on the tv to hear local news…well, I suppose our southern neighbours is local as well and heard that other person will be running for president again. I decided to turn in early and read my book until my eyes closed from sheer exhaustion….it has a long day at work and a condo AGM in the evening…a day of tension.

That lovely snow put another perspective on life this morning…I texted my son to wish him a great day and asked if my 2 yr old grand-daughter was excited this morning. I love travelling back in time and remembering how “I thought” as a young child this time of year…I can’t wait to play in the snow with my princess when I get to visit. She has a new baby brother as of last Thursday…I look forward to welcome him into our world as well and smell the sweet scent of a newborn. [Too bad that scent cannot be bottled!]

I scanned the news on my laptop and noticed one article from the Guardian, a title that made me smile speaking about a former politician “Oh how DT has fallen” and did not want to read further. I don’t care to know about politics, conspiracy theories and all the commotion that draws confusion and a I am trying very hard not to read or listen too much about what is going on in Eastern Europe right now…just writing about this makes me weep and it makes it difficult to do my shifts if I KNOW too much…but tonight I had to listen to the new…Wednesday evenings I had made a mental agreement with myself to listen to news ONLY on my 4 days off…tomorrow I don’t work. It appears the missile was not targeted towards Poland…does that make me relieved? or do I mourn the two lives lost? It saddens me and I am not relieved because I feel I am too far to know the 5 W’s and H journalist use to report the “truth”…what, why, when, where, who, and how.

If only prayers and communication were enough! If only communication and compassion for LIFE and our youths/future were the focus…if only…


snowflakes
carpets forming
spreading joy

snowflakes
adorning
bare branches

white carpets forming
like white sheets on a stick
spreading peace

spreading joy
peace
no wars!

(c) Tournesol '2022-11-16 Originally posted at TournesolDansUnJardin

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Dear Emma, (haibun – daily moments)

Watching an old episode of Cold Case, siblings were comforting each other when their mom died…I could not help but “fast-forward” and wonder if that could be my son and daughter. Death can bring families together but often grief can separate them. If only they knew that the sadness, the anger, the guilt, all pent up emotions are part and parcel of a “process”…but many families don’t realize that part of that anger is part of their grief but not necessarily a reason to cut ties. Of course I am not talking about some toxic relationships…but I kept looking at the young man and woman hugging each other and it makes me hopeful for my kids…later in their lives and by the end of mine.

Will you be there 
to hold each other
when I'm gone?

Will you be together 
...even 
for a brief time?

Don't dwell on the sadness
when I go...please please
listen to my playlist

Each song, I hope
will bring you back in time...

what you were doing
when you first heard some?
what I was doing?

Oh! mimic me 
dancing with the vacuum hose
lip singing off key...

dance!
like nobody's watching
just dance!

Listen to the song
 R & B, Motown and Folk
on my special  Playlist

Listen to that song
saying how much I love you
-More Than Words.

(c) Oliana 2022-10-09

I know it is Canadian Thanksgiving this weekend and some are celebrating. There are many who are not as it is a time of mourning for Indigenous people...grieving the lost childhood of those who were forced to go to Residential schools and mourning the children who never returned.

With the economy and the reality of so many people who have arrived in Canada seeking safety, this weekend may be just another weekend...trying to get enough food for their families...missing those they have lost and hoping they will return to their homes some day.  For the Atlantic provinces, many are having to rebuilt their homes a due to the fierce ravage of Fiona and perhaps they may be thankful for the compassionate community the Maritime people.

So maybe this is a weekend to reminisce on the past year and think of what you may be blessed with however small.

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Dear Emma – 9/12/2022

Dear Emma, September 12, 2022

When does parenting feel light and easy? I know, I know, it IS a blessing, and no one knows better than me. It took five years of trying and doctors before we had our first born. I treasured every moment…well notwithstanding those hours of labour [smiles] but hey, I guess it was still tolerable and we had a second child two years later. I remember with my first how inexperienced, exhausted and in pain I was. Nursing may be a natural thing but inexperienced, fair skinned mamas do have to learn a few tricks to avoid the first months of pain, but I digress.

I have always told parents when I worked on a Parent Helpline that parenting is the most difficult and important job an adult will ever do but it is also the most rewarding…no, a blessing. It is a privilege to be a parent, not a right. I say that because I have been working on a youth helpline for over two decades and hear such sad stories sometimes. But, that is another story for another time.

Well, what brought these thoughts to mind this morning was thinking about an issue with my two adult children…it is an issue they have to sort out between themselves but as a parent, as a mom who hates to see their kids struggle and feel hurt, it is just so hard. I remember telling my mom when I was 50 that I now understood how she felt and why she worried about us when we left home to go on with our lives. Now I got it. Once you are a parent, you never ever end that role…EVER. I had not realized that until then.

I have always tried my best to let my children once they were adults to respect their choices and learn from them as well. That is like watching your toddler struggle to walk and not being able to stop their fall [you can still be there to encourage them to get up] but it is also a way for them to become independent. After all, is that not the role of a parent…to help them become self-sufficient and not dependent on us? When I had my second child, I was given a gift with a card from a group I belonged to which were moms supporting moms with newborns. In the card they wrote something in French that is a translation of this:

“Your children are not your children …
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
You may house their bodies but not their souls…
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.”
Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

I admit, I did give them my love but did try to influence them in the “thinking” area when they were very young. I think I did model to be compassionate and treat everyone equal. Where I may have pushed a bit was when they were preteens and watching music videos and would sit with them and tell them what I thought of images of women being disrespected in every sense of the word, of sexist marketing for jeans and I would boycott them (My kids still laugh at that one) and I would encourage them to stay in school to get a trade, skill or career but that was one they understood seeing their mom go back to university for 9 years part time to get a degree.

There are topics I may avoid because their life experiences have brought them in different directions on some issues but the most important ones, family, work ethics and helping friends and family are still strong. And it comes from their core…I have nothing to do with that. But I am still so proud of them.

Right now they are struggling with hurt and bitter feelings between each other that I cannot fix. That is the hard part. I know whatever they do someone is going to feel hurt and you know what that means. A mother is as happy as her unhappiest child.

This morning I was reading and looked up at my entrance that I have put off fixing a wall that has holes to be patched for a few months. My son built a lovely shelf with hooks and when he removed the wall fireplace that was there, I was left with 5 holes. I just strategically placed decorative shopping bags on the hooks until I find the time to do it.

For a few days I was worried about my children’s issue that I cannot/will not meddle in and for a brief moment when I looked up at the wall I felt the worry lifted and the energy and motivation to fix those holes. It was a brief moment but one that I held in my heart…you know the feeling you feel when you are worried about a loved one driving through a snow storm (or rain storm) and how wonderful it feels when that worry is lifted? Well, that feeling…that lightheartedness is what I am feeling right now.

I thought to myself, “How can I keep that feeling going?” I thought about how parenting is a lifelong deal and everyone who is a parent lives it and finds ways to move forward with their lives. Fortunately I have good friends who are amazing listeners and two of them are retired counsellors and former colleagues, so they challenge me sometimes which helps me. I also talk with the children’s dad more since this pandemic so we can talk about our shared concerns. That is one thing I have always kept open…communication since we are still parents and although we no longer are together, I still consider him my life long friend since we were teenagers.

I think what really helps me is the joy I feel when I look at my grandchildren. My grandson has now graduated high school and drives. What a feeling to see him drive here for lunch which does not happen often enough, since he is working and doing ‘his own thing’. Then my granddaughter who turned 2 last month…what a treasure. I still remember my grandson at that age. And meditating helps too…I use an image that brings me joy and sit with that for as long as I can…that is my new mindful meditation…feeling the joy. I have an image of my granddaughter and another one of my grandson at the same age and I can bring them up anytime now and it fills my whole being with a warm fuzzy feeling. Of course if I am really worried or upset, praying or changing my mantra is best.

So I guess, Emma, you have not solved anything that needed to be solved. I just need to continue doing what I am doing and not let the “tough moments” take control over me. It is like the Serenity Prayer…that prayer hung in our kitchen since I was 7 years old and I have it in my office now. I just have to ask myself, “What part of this do you really have control over?”

I admit that since last Thursday I am also very sad since the death of Queen Elizabeth II. No, I am not a royalist in the least and am on the fence of being in the Commonwealth as a Canadian, but she represented such a constant in so many lives. My mom was born the same year and although she passed 8 years ago, I guess I saw the Queen as that last constant in my life. I am 70…and yes, she has been queen all those 70 years. That is phenomenal!

In April 2020 she gave a speech at the start of the pandemic reassuring people and that speech gave me hope. The last few lines of that speech kept me going when we were in lockdown. I had just moved into my new condo, a new neighbourhood…alone. Could not see my family…video chatted a lot with one but my other child was so zoomed out with her work that we texted now and then. Working remotely made phone calls off workhours not always so inviting. I hated zoom meetings so darn much!

“…Today, once again, many of us will feel a painful separation from their loved ones.
But now as then, we know deep down that it is the right thing to do.
While we have faced challenges before, this one is different.
We joint with all nations across the globe in a common endeavour
using the great advances of science and our instinctive compassion to heal.
We will succeed and that success will belong to every one of us.
We should take comfort that while we may have moe still to endure,
Better days will return.
We will be with our friends again,
We will be with our families again,
We will meet again
But for now I send my thanks and warmest good wishes to you all.”
Queen Elizabeth II, April 2020
https://youtu.be/2klmuggOElE

I have two friends who also live alone who are retired. We keep in touch a lot with regular emails a few times a week, but I don’t talk on the phone much with them. I had problems with my voice during the pandemic, probably due to high volume of crisis calls so talking with friends was limited. I saved the few moments to chit chat with my kids.

These days, I hear many people saying, “it’s over, get on with your life already!” I find myself processing the passed two plus years. The other day a doctor from Public Health came on the tv screen and I burst out crying…memories of those first few months when we were eating up each word struggling with the unknown. So I have limited news to twice a week since March…I have to otherwise I find myself burning out and not being able to do my counselling job 3 days a week which I love…it gives me purpose as well. If I was forced to retire, I would just find a volunteer position doing the same thing…there are many out there but for now I am blessed to still be able to do what I love. And yes, I would do it for much less or for free. That saying is so true, “Find a job that you love and you will never work a day in your life.” It took me longer because of changing career but oh boy, was it worth it!

As usual, Emma, you have been a good listener…my best because you never interrupt. I know I have been all over the place in this post, so thank you for trying to follow along. It is part and parcel of my neurodiversity (ADHD).

Best,

Oliana

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Seeing through a different lens (Journal Entries)

Journal Entry I – Originally posted on my new page: Seeing through a different lens – new beginnings https://tracesofthesoul.wordpress.com/seeing-through-a-different-lens-new-beginnings/

July 4, 2022

It’s time, she decides to book a trip. Yes, indeed, after 28 months of lockdowns, isolation, five plus months of curfews…it is time. It is July 2022 and she feels it is safe. She feels ready to start with a small trip to visit a very special aunt who is turning 93 next month. Covid-19 is no longer a huge threat to the world!

Kim starts by confirming vacation she had requested way back in March for the summer and autumn months. She is relieved she has a week in July and another week in August. With her four days off that could combine time to rest and then a brief vacation out of town or province. She does not feel ready to go out of the country just yet. Toronto will be just fine for starters.

Renting a car is out of the question…what used to be $50 a day in peak seasons is now $130 a day plus taxes and fuel has increased so much it made more sense to pay for a cheap train fare of $250 return trip. She is shocked with the prices when she had traveled the same trip in 2019 for $120 return trip. Oh well, petrol is so high it would probably be more expensive to drive alone there, and it is such a long, hypnotic trip on the same flat highway for 5 plus hours.

Okay, she has accepted the travel prices. Now her friend just messaged her from Brazil hoping to catch up with her in Toronto. She thinks, maybe she can stay two days in an AirBnB in Oakville (to visit her aunt) for 2 days and then one or two nights in Toronto to see some friends and the national office where she worked for before moving back home to Quebec.

No AirBnB available under $100 and none close to her aunt’s home. She thought she would just take a taxi to visit her and bring her shopping and have a nice meal at a restaurant together. She really wanted to take her aunt out who has been stuck in her home for 28 months grieving the loss of her husband. “Alright then”, Kim says out loud to her sleeping cats, “I’ll just have to see what hotels cost nearby.”

She is surprised to see the hotels about 1 km from her aunt’s home are cheaper than Airbnb’s…perfect! Now what about 2 days in Toronto…another problem…from $300 to $500 a DAY! for accommodations. Then she finds B&B Canada and there is a listing for a lovely place downtown…she loves the area and the quaint Victorian building at only $125 a night. She sends an email and gives 2 alternate dates to see if they have any vacancy. She is feeling hopeful for her trip.

July 5, 2022

Kim starts her work shift a bit groggy since she had not slept well; she’d been tossing and turning all night. She really must stop sleeping in so late on her days off, making it almost impossible to get to sleep early enough to get a good night’s sleep. She does love her work though, helping youths and young adults. She feels so fortunate to be working at a job she loves during these unprecedented times.

At lunchtime, she checks her personal emails, and the B &B just wrote, “Please call to book a room”. She calls and voice mail answers. The male voice spoke very slowly and a bit slurred. “Don’t leave a message, please call back to make a reservation at your convenience.”

Kim is shocked! How can one run a business like that? And to say to call back at “my convenience” is absurd because she did call at her convenience and the reservation desk did not answer. Maybe it does not have call waiting…whatever! What kind of place is it anyway? Should she take a chance to book at a place that sounds so unprofessional? Would she feel safe sharing a bathroom with a stranger…a woman all alone. Who cares how old she is!!

July 6, 2022

Kim thought about what she would do with her plants and flowers on the balcony…she must water them twice a day. Then her two cats…well, they can be alone 2 to 3 days with their automatic feeders but still. For 28 months due to the pandemic, she has been working from home in a condo she moved into a month before the lockdowns. She can’t really ask her son…he and his wife have a toddler and, another baby is on the way. She does have a new friend in the building, she could ask if she could come by for an hour every other day and just sit and watch tv . Kim thinks of her elliptical exerciser in her bedroom that she could put in the living room as she knows this friend religiously exercises every day on her own for 60 minutes. (No wonder she is so skinny!) Yeah, that way she might not mind coming over to see the girls aka female felines.

Then she thinks about her plants…she can’t ask her friend to water them…that is really asking too much. She sits in her mom’s old rocker and plays out different scenarios in her mind. She could ask her grandson to live here for the days she is away…he would love to get way on his own. Of course, it is not close to his friends and fuel is expensive. She could pay him as well as fill the freezer with home cooked meals he loves. But, would Kim’s daughter approve of this. He is not quite 18 yet and struggling emotionally a lot lately. Is it a good idea for him to be completely alone here? Hmmm, probably not.

Her oldest cat, Bette, a Siberian mix, sits on the bench next to her and lifts her paw touching her mistress to pet her. Kim enjoys stroking the thick, soft fur. Bette stretches out on her back with the front pays folded as if in prayer. If you could her the thoughts in her feline mind, you might hear, “This is heaven, Awwww!” Kim smiles at her and Kali her young black long haired cat jumps on her lap and turns in a circle until she settles her body across Kim’s chest with her head on her shoulder. Kim rocks gently and thinks to herself, “You know, this is kind of nice.” For two years she has been grieving trips she could have taken…travelling to South America and India to teach English as a foreign language. After all, she got her TEFOL certificate 3 yrs. ago just for that. She figured, she could travel a bit while she is still able to get around and in good health and the teaching would pay part of her expenses. Maybe when she retires, she could continue to teach online.

But as much as she wished she could travel, she is seeing how expensive this is and does she really want to spend her hard earned money. She likes to travel on brief trips but to go to those places it would be months away. Who would take care of her cats? And if she did not have her cats, what a bore her life would be living alone and not having their company.

July 7 8:00

Today is her day off and she had set her alarm for 10am. It is late for many folks, but she has been so tired rolling out of bed at 7:30 am for work that she felt it might be nice and also necessary to rest her body. She had a dentist appointment at two in the afternoon to pick up her mouthguard at $850…another expense. She is trying to get all the things she needs before she retires …then she will have to live only on the government pension which is barely enough to survive but if you don’t have debts, you are rich, right? At 8:15 she gets a text from her son thanking her for the gifts she had delivered to him for her grand-daughter. Kim debates, “Should I send a reply or wait and make him think I am still asleep”. She fires of a brief text and ten minutes later the phone plays a loud music indicating it IS her son; it is a video chat coming in. She is still in bed and wanted to get back to sleep…she presses, “cancel”. But despite her tired body, her mind is wide awake, so she shuffles or limps towards the shower; her left foot is hurting her more than usual…plantar fasciitis has been flaring up the past month despite her walking very little.

She showers and dresses and texts her son “I’m decent now…you can call me when you can.” Seconds later, she sees the image of her son with the blue sky as the background…he is working on his 50,000 sq ft property. Such a lovely place. She is reminded on how much work having a house is. She remembers all the chores she and his dad had to do when the children were little plus working and carpooling the kids here and there. How she found the energy plus going to university evenings…yes, she understands how busy he must be with another baby along the way as well. The phone call ended soon as he had another one coming in. She was fine with that. Talking too much puts a strain on her vocal cords lately.

Kim wonders if she should send a “memo” to all her children and grandchildren that “It is okay to call Mom/Nana for only 10 mins. Just say, I have to go now…and hang up.” Time moves differently when you are Kim’s age…a senior. She remembers when she was younger and busy with the children and her grandmother would call and talk and talk and talk and she would walk to the front door with her handsfree phone in her hand and ring the doorbell. Then she would tell her grandmother she had to go, there was someone at the door. She did not have the heart to not give a good reason…she knew her grandmother was lonely. How she loved her grandmother too. She had raised her…taken her sister and mother from the streets and made a home for them when their deadbeat dad left. Her grandmother represented love, compassion, determination, and strength. She was a woman way ahead of her time…a feminist in disguise. That’s what women, in those days, did. They hid in the shadows of their husbands making important decisions that allowed families to survive the Great Depression and two World Wars. She had so much to learn from her grandmother and also to be grateful.

July 7 14:00

Kim’s dentist was waiting for her patiently…everyone in the office still masked. She felt safe coming here. The mask mandates lifted June 18^th in her province…much later than the rest of the country but she still wore hers on public transit, stores, and malls.

Her dentist did not even have to adjust the mouthguard, it has been done so perfectly…she gave her instructions on how to put it on and how to clean it. Kim mentioned to her how expensive it was to travel and it was discouraging her. Her dentist looked at her and said, “It is still too soon to travel.” And for some reason, she just needed to hear this from someone else…a wise person that she admires. She had a dentist at the corner of her street from her new condo but she just could not change even if it was a 25 mins bus ride away. She trusted her and knew she tried to save her money and not perform needless expensive work on her teeth. A healthy mouth was just fine!

When she got home, she changed into more comfortable running shoes and brought her grocery buggy along and walked to the grocery store. The pain in her foot and back was getting so strong, she wondered if she would have to take a taxi back home.

It was nice to be in the store when hardly anyone was there. She chose early supper time…so people were traveling home from work or cooking supper. Hardly anyone wore masks except for a few seniors like herself. Walking home was slow…the buggy was heavy and she stopped often to switch hands. She decided to choose a podcast to listen to and found a very funny local comedian. Now, instead of listening to her body moan with pain, she could hear jokes that made her literally laugh out loud. Good thing she listened with earbuds so passerby’s would think she was talking on the phone rather than assume, “that crazy old lady is laughing to herself”. But then again, would it be so bad to laugh at the thoughts in one’s mind? What is wrong with being lighthearted? And at her age, who the F….cares what people think? They just did not hear the joke…too bad for them!

By the time she got home, she made herself a cuppa tea and realized with excruciating foot pain, it just might be a few months before she gets better so, why on earth would she want to spend almost a thousand dollars to come back more tired and probably in more pain?

Kim sat in her rocker and Bette lay on her bench sleeping soundly, Kali jumped on her lap and snuggled up to her neck and she could feel the cat’s weight on her chest feeling quite content. She thought to herself, “Life is pretty good here actually. I don’t need to feel I am missing out when I have everything that I need right here. I can travel virtually like I did at the start of the pandemic, and it felt so real.” Hmmm, she turns on the news and listens to the first announcement, “Quebec is now in its 7^th wave. 1540 people hospitalized and over 50 people died this week.” A decision was made for her but this time it felt like a choice to her.

She starts using a practise of RICE for her foot (Rest – Ice – Compression – Elevate) and found a bit of peace accepting that she will not travel this summer. She does miss friends and family further away, but video chats have helped, phone visits and writing letters. That is not so bad after all. It took her two years to realize that this change is not so bad after all…she kept looking at what she was missing out on rather than embracing all the blessings she had right here.

July 8 14:00

Kim decides to clear out a basket she keeps near the counter with things she needs regularly and a dollar coin fell from the basket. She looks at the shiny coin and flips it over to see the date…2013. Yes, that was the year she started her first blog …that was the year she started writing. During this pandemic she has written less than her usual daily posts and maybe this is a sign to find this coin…she will save it and think of a way to honour this date…perhaps find a poem she wrote in 2013 and frame it with the coin…yes, there are certainly lots of projects to look forward to and she is in no hurry.

The beginning…

Written listening to musice from https://youtu.be/zZe0qTo2DrY

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Dear Emma – haibun

Dear Emma,

It’s been a long time, I know. I have not been on WordPress in a long time. Occasionally I might notice a post pop up on Twitter or Facebook and I will read it…but most times, I don’t. Twitter is a place where I skim very quickly because there is too much news. It’s a bit cat and mouse situation for me with news. I want to know what is going on, yet I cannot always handle it.

Last week we had a debriefing at my work with a special consultant who started a therapy many years ago, called One at A Time (or Single Session Therapy) and he supports us once a month. I always give my name to be part of this group discussion because it is so helpful to have someone with so much clinical experience but who does not work at our place. He gives a fresh perspective and like any good debriefing, he comes from a place of curiosity and compassion asking questions about what we may be struggling with and THAT is so needed, helpful and appreciated. Anyway, he moved to southern US years ago, and we have Zoom meetings every month with him.

We usually share a call we may have struggled with and look for more direction. This time, I talked about how I have been feeling fragile and raw these days…traumatized by the news and then getting traumatic calls in counselling leaves me often feeling helpless and I feel I have slipped into a puddle. It was a good topic because many of my colleagues were feeling the same way and we shared what has been working for each other. I decided to practice what I preach to so many callers. I refuse to watch the news 4 days a week. I never watch weekends which is 2 days before I start my week so I my heart is open to hold my callers’ stories. It has been a pretty good week. Now to tame conversations with friends and family [sigh]. I think my son is the toughest because as a teacher and father of a toddler, he needs to vent…so I try to listen but not add on too much so that the conversation does not dwell on negative stuff. I don’t have a heart to tell him to stop because I know he is doing so much to keep things together…teaching all day under pressure and the drastic changes in his homelife and the financial crunch these days.

Sunday, I slept so late in the day (3pm… yikes) because I was not well so that Sunday night, naturally I was not sleepy enough to sleep…so I got about 15 mins sleep but boy did I sleep like a baby Monday. And last night I kept catching up on REM sleep…one dream I drove to Toronto…parked my car at my old condo and then put my suitcase in my old empty unit… (dreams don’t make sense) …then drove back downtown to see my old friends/colleagues at the national office. I saw one who just gave birth (for real) …I was her mentor when she did her placemen. Anyway, I remember only her …the other colleagues I could not distinguish their faces. But there was no baby…guess in the dream she was back at work because it was summertime. Anyway, it was a weird dream…then I kept trying to figure out how to get back to Montreal in time for my shift since the office was still not open in Toronto for counsellors due to Covid…then the alarm went on when I dreamt, I was by the river in my hometown….so weird. I was walking along the water across from our church, facing the water and the footbridge I used to take to walk to school…walked about 2 km (one way) every day but spring and fall I biked and came home for lunch. Boy, when I think of some kids today who always get driven or bussed, but we didn’t have a bus and my mom didn’t have a car, my dad left for work at 6am. Ah the good old days. I sound like those old shows on tv where grandparents would say, “When I was a child, I had to walk 10 miles…haha” …not quite, 2km is about 1 mile.

I look forward to warmer weather…I think some people have stopped heating in my building or my neighbour downstairs has gone down south…for the first time in 2 yrs., it’s colder than usual. I am surrounded by units being on the 2^nd floor of a 3floor building and I rarely put my heat on…the sun is so strong heating my living room and bedrooms all morning and part of the afternoon. So even if it is -10C these days I usually do not have to put the heat on. Well, I did for a few hours last night. It’s not the cold that gets you, it’s the humidity.

I have been writing regularly to one friend…I used to work with her, and she retired a few years ago and her health declined since. We encourage each other. She says she is made of Teflon, and I can tell her anything…she lived for three decades in another province, so she had to adapt, like me, to coming back home. Naturally we whine about politics especially being bilingual in culture but identify as English even though our loyalty is still towards both. I always say that I’m on the fence…one side is my mom (French) and the other side my dad (English) and having been educated all my life in English I do identify as the latter. My kids were raised the same and they too identify as English but are fluent in French. The two official languages in this country are French and English but depending on where you live anywhere in the country, many people feel they are often deprived of their rights. Of course, in this province, the only official language is French because we are considered a “distinct society” …so we are slowly losing every other election, we are losing. It’s kind of like if there was a state in America, let’s say California and they had 2 official languages there. I could be wrong, but I think our government adopted some ideas from that state to protect the French language like California did to protect the English language. I guess that’s not a good example because we, in Quebec were the first here…well, technically, the first settlers were in Newfoundland but there were already lots of people in North American say before…Indigenous people were here for centuries…and come to think about it, I should not even be complaining since they were robbed of their lands, culture and language. So, I take that all back, Emma. I was just defusing.

That is one thing that is so important…to defuse…in writing, journaling, talking to a good friend but talking to a friend can go just so far. Let’s face it…we are ALL under a lot of stress these past years, so we don’t need to dump on another person either. That’s why I stick to one friend and ask her if it is a good time. I have another friend who sends me little tid bits…short emails…instead of direct messaging from Skype or another platform, she uses email and sometimes they can be quite explosive …I may not always agree with some comments, but she needs to vent…so on a day I feel too fragile to hear negative stuff, I scan the tough stuff and may read it a few days later. I know she needs to get it off her chest and I truly care for her…like me, she lives alone…but unlike me…no family are nearby and not many friends are around. We need people…even if it is just for a few mins in the day…we need to connect on some level. Heck, just going to dump my trash in the bin outside I feel so lucky if I can see a resident to say Hi to…I see their smiles, but they don’t mine because I still wear a mask. I have not sacrificed over 2 yrs to let my guard down…yet. But I do respect anyone who does not want to just as I hope they will respect me when I wear mine. I had started wearing a mask anyway during flu season before the pandemic because I travel on public transit a lot and malls, stores and public transit are gigantic petri dishes…haha…I was just tired of catching colds all the time that turned into pneumonia since I have a chronic respiratory condition.

I have literally dumped on you, this morning, Emma, and have no profound, existential thoughts to share today. I miss writing every day though but like I said earlier, it is a cat and mice situation. I start to write and then I get too close to uncomfortable stuff. I live too much in my head so writing can help but it can also open the flood gates which I don’t need right now.

I am so saddened and disappointed with the world, and I see how divided we have become…more so now than ever. On the flip side, there are so many who are coming together since the pandemic and even now with this tragedy in the Ukraine. So, I try to balance what I see…search for beauty and stories of acts of kindness…I watch some shows like Ellen, on my day off on Thursday and Friday if I can and I cry with joy when I hear of humanitarian stories.

Because of restrictions I have not seen my kids and grandchildren as often as I would like but they are all busy too. I have a new granddaughter born in 2020 who is thriving…I look at her photos and I smile…she knows only video chat visits…to her a phone is a place where people come to visit and talk to her. My grandson is now driving, and his stepbrother will get his license soon too…so I might make a deal with my grandson and ask if he wants to be my personal Uber now and then. With the gas hikes, I think he might accept but then again, he is not in the greatest of moods…this pandemic has crushed so many dreams for young people. I think that’s why I feel so bad…I cry for youths, for young adults going to college and hear their stories about confusion for the future and feeling lost. I cry for young families and their worries and basically I cry for anyone younger than me. [ I am a bit of a cry baby…I cry when I am happy AND when I am sad]

I have lived a life without all the fears we are having now. I try not to think too much of my quashed dreams because I feel selfish when I do. I do acknowledge them…but feel fortunate to have lived a life I do have. Even struggles I have endured in my life, did make me grow (sorry if that sounds so cliché). I know that I would not be the person I am or the counsellor I am without those experiences.

Thanks for listening, Emma. Hope we can connect again real soon.

don’t cry little one
the sun is shining today
hear the geese honk

April rains  may wash your pain
the sun will dry your cheeks


chin up little one
 skipping rope and chanting rhymes
oh! sweet merriment


(c) tournesol'2022-03-30

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vulnerablity ~ Troiku (daily moments Sept 3, 2021)

I was pleased my muse visited me yesterday with this troiku:

Tournesol dans un Jardin

Yellow lines forming
leaves of the elm tree
autumn’s warning

yellow lines forming
open to a new season
falling leaves

leaves of the elm tree
shading my living room
holding my secrets

autumn’s warning
bare branches will soon
colour me naked

(Troiku is a new form of haiku created by Chevrefeuille at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai)

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Dear Emma,

Dear Emma September 4 2021

My baby turned 40 last week. I think that’s why I have been thinking so much of our past. I keep dreaming and getting flashes of memories of when my husband and I separated in 1993 and all that went on up to 1999. I am getting lucid dreams too and when I wake up I don’t know if it was a dream or if I was daydreaming.

Oh well, I trust the Universe has a purpose for putting me through this. Naturally I feel tremendous guilt on what my children, who were teenagers had to go through. It has more to do than just trying to “forgive myself” but that I keep putting myself in their shoes…what it must have been like for them and especially my daughter for she missed out the most for 2 to 3 years, not having me there day by day.

It is true that my daughter did miss out…when I was there my son, driving him around at 3 am from friends’ places…I was not there to do the same for her. I tried to make up for the little times we did have together but the day to day…checking on her school work, listening to her when she needed to talk about a friend, school or a bf…nope, I was not there. I will never forget a phone call in the middle of the night I received when I was living 350 miles away and I did not hear the phone…I could hear the voice message and she was crying and so unhappy during the ice storm in Quebec; she learned her bf had cheated on her. Even if I called her back hours later, it was not what she needed at that time. I listened to that message for months on my phone. I still am trying to forgive myself for that one. She never thought of calling the anonymous youth line where I currently work…I don’t think many youths were aware of that service the at that time either and I was not familiar with it to recommend it to both my son and daughter.

My only consolation is that even if I tried to do my best for my daughter, is that, she moved in with me at 18 and all the stuff a younger teen does when they rebel and act out, she put it on hold until she moved back in with me. [smiles] and despite the anger she had, she knew I loved her and was there for her. Sharing this last bit with you, Emma, helps me realize I think I did my best…at that time. I hope I can eventually be at peace with this…Just thinking about it impacts on my body.

On my 4 days off I tend to live too much in my head. Today, I decided to clean the condo listening to podcasts. Listening to news and podcasts with my headset also keeps my mind busy when I am vacuuming and washing the floors.

Pre-pandemic times, I used to like to walk or clean and my thoughts would accompany me but since now, I tend to avoid it. I think it may be a good idea to get back to musing like I used to do…that’s when I created my best poems and short stories. I used to chant my mantras 10 x 108 going to work, walking and on the bus and Metro. Now I try to carry my mala beads walking …I want to get back into this routine more. I feel so much better afterwards.

I am slowly accepting that life as we know it will never be the same and this virus will be a threat for a few more years. I want to start “doing” rather than just distracting myself…exploring, discovering. I have grieved my dreams for travelling and now I want to build a new today and a new tomorrow. Oh, I am saying that today but you know what they say about change and transitions. Until I step onto the other side, I am still balancing myself with one foot on each side…but I am more aware now. I can’t kid myself anymore.

With this acceptance comes acknowledging the health of loved ones and more importantly friends my age group. I am so blessed with friends I can talk to either on the phone or writing…he only thing I miss the most is hugging them.

Now off to cooking a recipe I have not tried yet …Chicken Tikka Masala but without the chicken…alternating with tofu and basmati rice with green peas and corn and of course my cucumber Raita. Chopping and cooking with my feet on my new anti-fatigue carpet makes it so pleasurable standing for long periods at a time.

Thanks for listening, Emma. Happy Labour Day to those who are off tomorrow although I will be working.

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Dear Emma,(warning- may be triggering)

Due to the state of our world and being bombarded with so much trauma, I decided to put a warning when I am literally spilling my heart and soul. This is one. I need to get it out of my head and release some of my thoughts…so at any time, please DO take care of yourself and stop reading if you find it triggering.

It’s day 1 of my 4 days off. Thursdays are always tough for me since this pandemic. Nowhere to go. I don’t feel like taking the bus even though it is great that it is usually almost empty but Tuesday I came back from returning an item at the hardware store at 15:15 and I was almost home, then the bus stopped in front of the high school…I saw all those young teens with masks waiting to get on the bus. There was another bus in front of ours…and then I realized there must be a new protocol…the busses only took on about 6 students. Must be a number system the drivers see and they just add a whole bunch of busses at rush hour which is 15:00 to 18:00. I let out a sigh of relief and two stops later I was home. I find it so depressing seeing students with masks…when I go to a mall as well, I am too bombarded with the reality we are living and I just feel better at home.

But today is Day 4 of back to school for kids here so it may be wise to just stay put. I keep crying thinking of all the stuff going on in the world. I’m saddened of what I hear what goes on south of our border with laws rolling back the the last century for women. And I’m lonely…I miss going out to meet a friend on my day off for a cuppa or travelling to the next town or province to see another friend. I have always embraced the fact that I can still drive, I am healthy and when I feel like getting away, I can rent a car and just go.

However, I cannot visit anyone…friends or extended family, I mean. I work remotely so I have one less stress to worry about at least travelling on public transit and all. And I still do love my work and know it is even more essential these passed two years. I am relieved our organization extended the age limit to 29 yrs old too!! So now I can get a crisis call from anyone from 5 to 29. Of course parents call and say it is their right because they are calling in the name of their child…and I still give them time and try to help but we have not had a parent help line since 2006 here. How I loved to work on that line but it was difficult to get funding. I went back to the youth line that starts at 5…and in my heart I always felt we were reaching out to the children under 5 who were so helpless in getting support…it’s not until they are in school that abuse can be recognized if the child is not going to daycare…and helping a parent explore alternative ways to parent without judging them…was the perfect balance in helping both the parent and the child.

At least we are there for young adults now as well…their future is so daunting. And this is the first time in my life where our clients are going through some things we counsellors are living as well…the uncertainty, the grief and loss, the dreams shattered and mostly the social connection. I know that I love my solitude…I love writing and reading and spending days cocooning. But since this pandemic I write less and yet, I have more time…I read sporadically…I can read 5 or 6 books like a hungry hippo then my focus is all over the place for a few more weeks.

Last year I tried painting furniture, water colours and card making…well the card making is still goiing strong. I feel that sending a personal card to a friend is like getting a gift in the mail, a toy with a Happy Meal. You know what I mean, right? Whenever I get a card or letter, I bring it to my home, set it on the table, make myself a cuppa tea and then I open it and drink it all up. There is nothing better than getting snail mail once in a while.

When I was a teenager, I would write to my friends 10 plus pages in one letter! I haven’t changed my style of writing much since then…I write like I am literally talking to a friend.

Lately I have been emailing every other day a good friend. We were colleagues, counselling youths and she’s retired now. Now and then my voice gets strained and I have to watch the time spent talking so I can do my job which is phone counselling. So rather than not stay in touch, we write…writing to her is like a Dear Emma letter. I can tell her just about anything it is uncensored …well almost. This blog is the 100% uncensored and I don’t feel I have to take care of anyone…well, the note at the top is new for me to highlight since readers who know my Dear Emma posts…these posts are shedding my heart and soul sometimes. This is one of those times.

Like I mentioned earlier, Emma, my first day off I usually feel a bit off. Emotionally I can be drained and I did get a wopper of a shift yesterday but lots of support. I was sitting, reading through some tweets on Twitter because some news can be cool and informative and I found one shared video on Afghan recipes and each person watching it will raise funding donated to three organizations supporting the people of Afghanistan. I really enjoyed the recipes and will walk to the grocery store later to pick up a few items I am missing. It is perfect for me since I have been cooking mostly Indian dishes all summer and now I will learn more flavourful recipes…minus those peppers…my body just does not digest them and yet the powdered spices of peppers I can…oh well.

Here is the video for those who may be interested in mouth watering meals that seem pretty easy….I may cheat and get the taco bread though…flour and me fight a lot.

After watching this, I was mentally making a list of items I needed to pick up and then the itching started again…I suffer from hives intermitently for the past 20+ yrs but since 2019 it has been daily. Today I just lost it…it is frustrating and I got up and got some lotion and an ice pack and waited for it to subside…it did for a while.

This week like most weeks I get spurts of crying spells, releasing the pent up tension and sadness of our world…then I move on. Today I am not busy enough to NOT dwell, I guess. My body is aching due to chronic pain (arthritic etc.) and I know I need to rest today and tomorrow I will be able to do more. But the itching was just too much and I was ready to explode. I had also read a few comments about the new law in Texas infinging on the rights of women’s bodies, spent weeks watching the slow motion rescues of our country and America for the people of Afghanistan…feeling such shame in our country for taking too long…renaging on their promises to help those who had helped Canadian and American soldiers for 20 years. It is just too much sometimes. What kind of world do we live in?

These past 20 months have been so hard for the world…I’m lucky, I am sitting comfortably in my mom’s old rocker writing this …I have food, electricity, internet, the right to watch the news all over the world…I can walk out my door and not have to duck and hide to stay safe. I know it sounds foolish and selfish for feeling frustrated and sad about my own dreams of aging and wishing I could travel a bit to a few modest places before I get too old…that’s why I got my certificate 2 yrs ago to teach English abroad to help pay my expenses to visit other countries. Oh dear, I sound like a spoiled brat…I have so much and life is still okay here in my province.

I just get fed up sometimes.

I have anohter friend who sends me short explosive emails venting on news about racism, our Indigenous people, our upcoming Canadian elections, local politics and I have had to ask her to try and not watch the news so much so she can take care of herself because it worries me to hear her sometimes. She lives alone as I do but she is retired. I find my work grounds me.

I am bombarded with all this news from work so we can also be advocates and help many causes and support our youths and young adults all across our country…so outside traumatic news, for me is a bit too much these days. I have to take things in safe doses.

My grandmother was 18 when the Spanish flu hit us. She was married and pregnant for her 2nd child by 1920. She caught the deadly virus and used to tell us how she was sure she would die…her fever was so high, she lost all her hair. (it did grow back). I think of how it must have been for her at that time with a husband, 2 babies and sterilizing everything…she was a midwife as well. Imagine washing all the clothes by hand, no tv. no radio…not able to know what is going on in the world until days after an event. Wow!

I think of Grandmaman often and my mom and pray to them. Whenever I get brainfog and am looking for something and then find it, I thank them. I used to ask Saint Anthony but I figure they have the direct line to him now. [smiles]

My friend who sends me sad and explosive emails is depressed, I know that. She says things I am thinking and to hear it scares me becasue I don’t want to give in to those thoughts. I am not suicidal…could never do that to my loved ones. Honestly, life is getting harder to want to go on…but I will. I have my children and grands. A beautiful baby who turned one two weeks ago…the greatest joy in our family during this damdemic. I love my work and feel so fortunate to have a purpose while I am stuck here and fortunate I can do it in the comfort of my home. My grandson’s high school is around the corner from my new condo…hopoefully it will be safe for him to come over for a homecooked lunch sometime.

You see…talking it out to you, Emma, frankly helps and I feel so much better…well, the icepack on my chest helped too. Thanks for listening, as always, Emma.

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Dear Emma,

The link below and artwork is what inspired me to talk to you, Emma. I am going to contemplate on those heartbreaking images and hopefully my muse will give at least one image justice…later on my poetry blog.

I can’t help but think of all the hours I have been drawn to media. I try NOT to watch the news too much. When the pandemic started I did not have TV reception (no cable) …so I was streaming news and stories on YouTube every day. I took a break by binging on Netflix and Prime Video. I read most of the books I had purchased (saving for my retiring years) because the local library was closed) and purchased a lot of ebooks and paperbacks online.

And then in the spring I purchased a simple indoor antenna you place near or on a window. Wow! Now I had about 13 channels – 4 Quebec French channels, 4 Canadian English, 4 American channels (mystery and movies) and 1 CBS stationed in Vermont which is closest to me. Now I could watch the news LIVE. But I quickly learned they repeat 3 to 4 times a day. Now I try to watch French news at least twice a week because there are some issues not reported on English channels.

Okay, Emma, all this to say I was becoming more informed…soemthing I had avoided since 9/11 because the news depressed me. But now I was getting 10 times more calls from youths and young adults stressed with life and current events. Yep, I had to know a bit more.

The positive about being cooped up indoors (working remotely) was I and the entire world were watching…American politics, atrocities happening in Eastern Europe, the science of this deadly pandemic and now looking in our own backyard on the injusticies and trauma happening to Black, Indigenous and People of colour BIPOC. Notice I am saying “happening” not “happened”.

Usually when we hear about any racist motivated murders or injuries on the news, a few groups of people will protest, advocate and eventually it loses its impact…people move on to their jobs outside the home, go shopping or whatever …getting as far away from their/our discomfort as possible and nothing changes! But it has and still does again and again and again.

Now we can’t hide from the truth (oh sure, some can if they want) and more and more are educating themselves and learning how to be a true ally. Companies and organizations are having more meetings on Diversity but this time, BIPOC are running them in many cases. Staff are encouraged to talk about what they have experienced and what would make their lives easier in the workplace.

It is time for non BIPOC people to find ways to act…not just nod with empathy at a Zoom meeting. I say this thinking of a particular webinar hosted by one of our staff who is manger, indigenous initiates. We are offered so many opportunities to learn but also self-reflect on our own biases, have important discussions with friends and family.

I remember a family member once sharing how we English speaking people in Quebec have experienced racism too and I agree but I added, “Yes, but I can walk into any store and as long as I don’t open my mouth to speak English…I am never treated differently.”

When George Floyd was murdered, the world was watching and I do believe many people are starting to learn…but it starts with self…our guilt of being silent bystanders and/or accomplices is up to us to work through and learn how some innocent behaviour (to us) can perpetuate the ongoing oppression. Reading White Fragility was not easy…at first, I kept thinking, Oh this just happens in the US…but I stopped that after the first chapter so I could see what I need to do. Not point fingers at others…it starts at home like that old saying goes.

Today I am sharing beautiful art work and will not say more because each painting tells many stories…so many

Indigenous art show explores role of kinship in culture while works convey pain, hope, beauty

CBC Muriel Draaisma · CBC News · Posted: Aug 12, 2021 7:50 AM ET | Last Updated: August 12

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/indigenous-art-show-wisdom-of-kinship-leslie-grove-gallery-1.6138343

A description of this painting reads: ‘Unmarked depicts the loss of culture, language and of course children through the historical implementation of the Residential School system in Canada. It was created as a reflection of my own feelings of sadness resulting from this loss and has become a timely harbinger of what is currently occurring with the increased discovery of children’s Unmarked graves on the grounds of Canadian Residential Schools.’ (D. Ahsén:nase Douglas)

This photograph by Lisa MacIntosh, Water First, is one of 29 artworks by 12 Indigenous artists at a new exhibition at a Toronto art gallery. It features Lucy Paibomsai from Whitefish River First Nation. (Lisa MacIntosh)

A description of this painting reads: ‘Resilience depicts the continuing and seemingly endless supply of courage, strength and will power that our Indigenous youth are able to muster in the wake of continued social injustice. It is a battle cry of sorts in which the young will be tasked with continuing the fight for equity and sovereignty of culture within colonial Turtle Island.’ (D. Ahsén:nase Douglas )

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Dear Emma,

Dear Emma,

I have not written in quite awhile and frankly I still don’t know what to write about. Time is moving fast and yet slow; does that make sense? I think I may have had the most energy in March to May 2020. Keeping busy in my condo was my way of ducking depression, compassion fatigue and anxiety. And it worked for a few months. Sure, the anxiety had its dips and peaks streaming YouTube to get the news. I worried like the rest of the world for my children and grandchildren.

At that time my son and his wife were expecting a baby so I worried for their health and safety. Then I worried my son would not be allowed to assist in the delivery. I was sympathetic (not empathetic) to his pain on not being able to attend doctor’s visits and ultrasounds and hearing first hand those heartbeats.

I remember so vividly how overjoyed I was hearing that and it broke my heart to see what he and his wife were going through. When you’re pregnant, you love to visit family and friends. Heck, it is probably the only time you get so much attention and support…people tell you to sit down and relax. Friends and family are overjoyed to see you glowing and baby getting bigger every week!

Well, she sure did not have that attention. Sure, her parents and family and I video chatted with her regularly but it was not the same. My son was teaching and worried all the time he would infect his wife. Schools, teachers, parents, and children were 50/50 on wearing masks and taking this pandemic seriously. And the government were masters in playing with their frigging Yo-yo and telling the public one thing then changing guidelines the following week. And when their baby girl was born, we were all overjoyed but still could not go there to help her. All new moms need at least their mom or best friend to spend some time with her. This was not in the cards for her and my son. I worried about postpartum blues but I have to say, she is an amazing woman and found strength to get through this. My son is fortunate to have such an amazing woman in his life.

I worried about my daughter and her partner who were both working from home with stressful jobs with their three teenaged boys. Oh boy! Of course, my daughter was so inundated with Zoom meetings that there was no way we could face time and I missed seeing her face.

I moved into my new condo in February 2020 and my daughter never saw the outside of the building until Mother’s day in MAY 2020 when she brought me a beautiful huge plant to put on my balcony. In fact she never came inside my condo until 2021! Living alone I was fortunate to have the right to visit one bubble and of course we wore masks indoors and eventually social distanced indoors…my daughter put two dining tables together to make extra space.

I know I spoke a bit about this at the beginning of the pandemic, so yes, I am repeating myself. I have hardly ever written a poem or haiku in months that this “regurgitation” is really a warming up exercise to stir the juices and write again. I miss writing. I miss the routine of taking an hour or so before going to work, during my lunch break and evenings before going to bed. Granted I probably went through a period of writing in long stretches when I first started in 2013, working my evening shifts so I did not start writing until midnight when I got home. And weekends and days off I would go through 6 hour periods of being logged on to write and also read other blogs and connecting with several. To this day, I still embrace those moments and feel blessed. I consider these friends very special to me and who contributed in my spiritual and writing growth. Most of all, I found blogging has allowed me to have a glimpse of what the world looks like through these writers’ lenses rather than mainstream media and news.

In the past few months, I have attempted writing several times; on several occasions I have written my thoughts…thinking out loud for a few pages and then I would get up and do something and come back and delete it all. Writing it out was still therapeutic even if I did not post it. I have been sending long emails to a few friends as well. I know I could phone many friends since I have unlimited calls anywhere in Canada but I had a problem with my voice last October that lasted several months and is still a problem although I can work my three days but I refrain from talking too much after work until Friday to Sunday. I think I have had this recurring problem for years but I just thought it was due to my chronic sinus problems and asthma. Oh well, like the song goes for my generation, “I will survive”.

You would think I would write MORE with so much time on my hands. I crocheted, knit, painted (not very good at that one), coloured, refurbished two pieces of furniture and in the past 6 or 7 months, I’ve been making my own greeting cards and sending out brief poems and updates to friends via snail mail.

Hmm, come to think of it, I guess I have been writing a little then but the old fashion way and not on my blog. I felt many of my friends who are about my age also need to get something in the mail that is not an Amazon delivery but something personal just for them. That was my way of saying, “You are special to me and I hope that opening this envelope puts a smile on your face.” Well, I guess I was giving to my friends what I LOVE to receive, myself. Whenever I get a card or letter from a friend, I am so excited. I make myself a cuppa tea or coffee and wait until I can sit down and read the words on paper…it truly makes my day.

But I still miss writing every day like I used to write on my three blogs. Now, I’m lucky if I can manage something on one blog every three or four months. It’s as if I have hit rock bottom on so many levels…emotionally, intellectually and physically. Many of my callers when I work on the crisis line are much older since we speak to youths from 5 to 29! With so many people forced to isolate themselves, and those already struggling with their mental health, may call just to get motivated to face the day. Often, just exploring what they can do for the next few hours…a “to do list” in a way. I think I need to start doing that as well. I need to practice more and more what I am recommending to people who use our service.

I hate the feeling of living in a bubble much longer. I get my 2^nd dose of the vaccine June 25^th. I am thankful especially for so many people who do not have air conditioning during the upcoming hot and muggy days ahead. We get so many extremes here in Montreal with our seasons. But with many getting their 2^nd dose in the next few weeks, they will feel safer to spend part of their days in air-conditioned malls.

I think Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday (SoCS) is the only blog since March 2020 that sparks my interest in writing. Every time I see her blog on Friday or Saturday, I think to myself, “Oh, hell, why not give it a go?”. Thank you, Linda, for being there week after week!

Oliana, June 19, 2021

Written for The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS, June 29, 2021

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Tapestry of life (troiku)

Originally submitted at Tournesol dans un Jardin

Today as my colleague was describing a counselling process, I was visualizing a collaborative partnership…like creating a tapestry. Each yarn, unique in its texture and colour; each row adding to the complexity forming; client holds bits and pieces of yarn, varried textures from thin to soft, soft to thick and coarse of so many colours; counsellor holds the loom and together a new story unfolds.

Wrapping yarn
Bulky, soft and unique
around each nail

wrapping yarn
attentive and respectful
to each detail

bulky, soft and unique
weaving each new syllable
tapestry of life

around each nail
exploring – discovering
options unfold

Daily moments Feb 9 2021 tapestry of life (Troiku)

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changed forever (senryû)

like losing a limb
over the years, she still limps
  mourning her lost son

(c) Tournesol '24/01.2021

Daily Moments - changed forever Jan 24 2021

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Dear Emma,

January 20 2021

Dear Emma

TGIFW

For decades TGIF meant so much to me…it meant the end of the week, the weekend would commence and sleeping in for two days! When the children got a bit older, they referred to TGIF to two straight hours of half hour comedy shows on ABC and we would cuddle up on the comfy couch together.

About five years ago I started reducing my hours and worked 4 days a week and my last day was Thursday…so TGIT [smiles] and in the passed two years it is three days a week, hence the TGIW…thank goodness it’s Wednesday. But is it really? Since the end of March 2020, I have often thought 4 days off in a row was driving me stark raving mad being stuck inside and not able to travel. Heck, forget travel, not visiting friends and family nearby!

I had kept busy up until last summer and then I got into reading and knitting which were more passive…not sure they helped but now I am trying to have a few projects on the go. I do not particularly like routines and repeating the same thing over and over. The only thing I repeat over and over is my mantra and that grounds me or puts me to sleep at night [another smile]. I lose interest very easily, so rather than look at my umpteen unfinished projects as mayhem, I am starting to see it as “work in progress” and try to make room in my small condo so I don’t trip over things.

Although I am working until 4:30, on my breaks my tv is tuned to CBS and the sun is finally coming out here, so it is a good sign…it is a fine day today in North America and blessed day in America. Let’s pray for positive energy and that any violent nature will be neutralized by the antidote of love and compassion.

TGIW and today is an opportunity for a new start…building rather than destroying, hope overcoming despair, kindness will win over malice, love over hate, wisdom over ignorance.

Thanks for listening, Emma.

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Dear Emma – January 16, 2021

Dear Emma

January 16 2021 (Ooops, just noticed I kept this as a draft rather than published)

One week in our Lockdown and 8pm curfew. I am not sure why the curfew unless it really is preventing people from socializing, then I suppose this makes sense. I don’t go out anyway and when I do go for a walk it is during daylight which is before 4pm. Groceries are still delivered and grocery day I always feel a bit antsy. I feel a jumpy and even irritated washing, wiping down and making sure I did not forget something. Did I touch that box and forget to wash my hands? Did I forget to disinfect the door handle?

Our premier tells us to continue being careful and the health minister says the reason it is spreading more is that there are probably many without symptoms spreading the virus within the community. That makes sense. Also they say that many are no longer being as careful as they were last March…that is probably a huge factor. Some people are getting complacent and just so fed up but this second wave is not funny…we can’t put our guard down!!

Actually I do think ever since our Canadian Thanksgiving in October it has been going up and our premier allowing Christmas shopping (of course to help the economy) and schools still open and then at the last minute he says, “Oh, we change our minds. Even if you quarantine for 7 to 10 days before receiving one family for Christmas, we no longer allow it and you will be fined if you do it.” Well, I am pretty sure most people still did a little visit here and a little visit there. We are allowed to visit an older person, like me [smiles nervously] but only one person at a time. So my guest are my delivery persons which I tell them to leave everything at the front door on the main floor. For one, it allows me to get some exercise and two, I don’t want a delivery person who has been visiting multiple places walking around on the floors to protect my neighbours as well. The only delivery person who does come up to my door but stays in the hallway is the grocery and he always wears a mask, as I do. I set up 4 rubbermaid bins in the hallway and tell him to, ‘dump all the bags there’ and I drag them in and one by one by one, I wash everything. I even have spare egg cartons that I transfer my eggs into them and the older one I can recycle or place in another room where paper and cartons can remain untouched for 24 hours…I really don’t know if they have changed it to 4 hours now but better safe than sorry. I feel I am a good candidate to marry Mr. Monk the obsessive and compulsive detective [smiles]. I watched the series over again at the start of the pandemic and did not find him so extreme in his behaviour [wink wink].

I also feel that people who have to work and more marginalized families living with more people in their homes are unfairly targeted by this dangerous virus. Of course the health care system is dangerously maxed but so are essential workers like those working at minimum wage at grocery stores (our government actually gave them a 4$ an hour raise last year because they ARE essential), pharmacy employees, food companies, meat companies…any service that WE are fortunate to have put food on our tables are essential. And if I were younger and had to work to feed my family, and had to work outside my home, I am not sure I would want to get tested…I really don’t know. The risks are too high, you can lose your job or go home for two weeks unpaid…not much of an incentive.

In January there will be a quick test that will be distributed to two schools in Montreal so students can test themselves as a pilot project and if that works, they will be distributing to more schools. It always feels like we are playing catch up, eh?

What do I have to complain about? I look at our southern neighbours and I cannot imagine the stress and fear they are living right now. It is not enough to be ravaged by a deadly virus but add political chaos to the mix and not having government financial support or free healthcare [huge sigh], I feel for my neighbours and pray next week will go well with little violence at the inauguration.

Yesterday the protocols are being put in place in our hospitals as we are near capacity already and changes will have to be made in triage. In the event a person regardless of their age has less chance of surviving with emergency ICU services, they will choose another patient who has a better chance of surviving. They will be looking at the medical history of each patient and a group of 3 persons (not clear if they are nurses or doctors) will make that decision. I pray we do not get to that point but they had to put a protocol in place and I truly feel for them and US.

I can’t help but feel overwhelmed this week…I know we are in the worse months for depression and suicide and I know that my work on the crisis line will get more intense. What is different this year is that so many are overtired and stressed. I watch children walk to take the bus dressed up in their snow suits wearing a mask and it breaks my heart to see their childhood impacted like that.

My voice is slowly getting better but it is slow…I am now taking four hours of counselling calls per shift and working on research the rest of my work day but on day three, I can hardly speak . Talking to my doctor last week, she said this problem has been in the making for years and that is why it will take time to get better…I guess but it is annoying because I really want to stay on the phones to work rather than do clinical research. Older people are reaching out and I can see how more callers from 16 to 25 are truly feeling the long term impact. Their futures are at a standstill and their dreams are being questioned.

My 5 month grand-daughter is starting to sit now and she is so darn sociable…always smiling. I love speaking to her on Google Duo…I talk silly and make funny faces and she just laughs. What joy!!! She is the only one who does not see all this life we are living as so bad. She speaks to her maternal grandparents and uncle every day and I speak to her a few times a week and I think for her it is just NORMAL to see Abuela and Nana on a flat screen. [chuckles]

I have slowly started getting into water colours…looking at lots of videos first of course. And I started making greeting cards. It’s a good thing I have started too! On Sunday I went to the drug store to pick up my ginger and lemon lozenges and noticed the only section corded off as NON ESSENTIAL products were the greeting cards. The whole row of Valentine chocolates were fine, along with the junk food. Go figure!

Groceries stores and convenience stores all have to close at 7:30pm to give a chance for employees there to get home before curfew. Lots and lots of tickets were given out on the weekend. Fines are from $1,500 to $6,000. You are allowed , however, to take out your dog within a 1 km radius…well, that’s good for those who have dogs.

I couldn’t sleep last night…I woke up at 3am and just could not get back to sleep so I thought, maybe I could go out for a walk and the fresh air might help to get back to sleep. Then I realized that curfew ends at 5am…ah, just as well, the air was foggy and later I received a smog alert until this afternoon on my phone. Anyone with respiratory problems to not go out. I did go out later and the sun was shining, and it was so mild…only minus 2 C…it felt like spring!

Since I tend to stay in and not go out for regular walks lately, I decided I am going to spread out my letter and greeting card mailing. It will give me an excuse to walk to the mail box which is almost 1km away and once I’m out there, well, I may walk a bit more. Wearing a mask is an advantage in the cooler air though and I have a sore tooth, so the mask protects it from breathing in that cool air…ouch!

I really need to write more often just to get this s&** off my chest…I feels so much better now, Emma, and will read a bit until my eyes close.

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9 months later (troiku) Daily Moments Dec 18 2020

hearing the murmur
interrupt my worry mind
from my laptop

hearing the murmur
soft moans sounding like snores
my big fat cat

interrupt my worry mind
blare of the condo buzzer
Amazon delivery

from my laptop
sixty faces staring into space
another Zoom meeting

Originally posted at Tournesol dans un Jardin

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DEAR EMMA, FRIDAY 13TH NOV 2020

Originally posted at Tournesol dans un Jardin

Dear Emma,

It has been months since I have written on a regular basis. Many respond to sudden changes in their lives to comments like “Life happened” with all the busyness one may be exposed to. But like the entire world, my only excuse is “Covid-19 happened” and it just took me a little longer to react.

Sure I was stressed and scared in the beginning but I was so busy putting out fires working on the crisis line three days a week, I would take four days to stay busy…distracted with still settling in my new condo since February…and yet every midday there was a press conference and I would freak out in my own little home.

I would rarely show my concerns with family or friends because they had enough to deal with. At that time I was worried for my future and the unknown but like I said, I was also busy trying to reassure, comfort and listen to those calling our youth line that, that kept me focussed. It reminded me a bit of a mom who is trying to tend to the family when they have an illness that is contagious. Chicken Pox comes to mind as I had to stay quarantined for three weeks with my son and THEN on the third week, my daughter caught it…so six weeks quarantined. Wow! I thought that was pretty tough then! How naïve I was!!

In March and April and early May I was still counting the days since our lockdown and now, I have given up counting. What used to be days, has turned to weeks and now turned to months. Actually now the thought of counting any amount of time has a bad ring to it…yep, when you start hearing that things will get back to normal…or sort of normal in 3 to 4 years…I dread even thinking about that…my future is much shorter than my clients and my peers, working in an environment where the average age is 25. So yeah, I’m probably the age of their grandparents. I wonder how my last decades will be. I had hoped to travel the first three to five years, while I was healthy enough and still working to afford the expense…now I don’t know anymore.

In the beginning I mourned the future of youths and anyone 20 years younger than me; I felt so bad for them. I was worried about my son and his wife and wondered if my son would be allowed to assist in the birth of his baby due in mid September. I worried about his return to teaching elementary school and putting his family at risk. I worried for my daughter and her three boys who were 12, 14 and 16, living in dullsville and wishing they could be with at least ONE friend other than each other. I worried about the sanity of my daughter and her partner working from home with extremely stressful jobs that has increased since the pandemic.

In May, George Floyd’s murder hit me more than Covid-19…one was a virus and difficult to contain, the other was an act of malice that could have been prevented. And so I mourned for his family and friends, I mourned for past, present and future people who have died maliciously. It took George Floyd’s death to finally have the entire world acknowledge and listen to people protesting in the streets about systemic racism for black , racially marginalized and indigenous people ALL over the world. The finger was first pointed at America and finally we all looked humbly in our own back yards at the injustices that have been going on for decades if not centuries. White privilege is finally being understood slowly…systemic racism is being acknowledged and recognized…notwithstanding our stubborn premier here in Quebec who will NOT use the word systemic racism pretending NOT to understand what it means…even if many have explained it perfectly in French for any bozo who pretends not to know. If one does not acknowledge it, they can give that as their excuse to NOT begin to resolve the problem.

Mid-May, I finally bought an inexpensive home antenna and caught the news on several American, Canadian English and French channels…so now I could watch a summary rather than the whole press conferences that I was getting to dread. I dreaded Zoom meetings and the echoey sound it had and would rarely attend to work meetings and rather chose to stay on the crisis lines. I am still not able to watch for long periods of time, shows that have Zoom…it just reminds me of a new world I dread.

I worried I would never be able to hold the newborn baby when my grandchild would be born and then July came and I had my very first outing with the family…we were allowed to meet with our 2 bubbles…so my son, his pregnant wife, and my daughter’s family, celebrating my grandson’s 16^th birthday and finally saw everyone. We had not been together since Christmas 2019.

I was still scared walking outdoors and was not familiar with my surroundings. There is a beautiful gigantic park 5 minutes from my condo with an artificial lake that runs a mile and a half long. I was too scared to go but in August I decided to check it out. I hated walking alone all the time and not having a goal or destination, so I started talking to a friend in Toronto on my walks. I tried to go for a walk during my lunch time as well to get away from watching the news on YouTube, not having cable, I was stuck with only streaming information.

On August 20^th, the Great Spirit answered all our prayers and my grand daughter was born three weeks early! My son was permitted to stay with his wife the three days in hospital and I even spent three days the week after helping mama and baby Lara with this new transition. I treasure those days I was blessed to hold Lara in my arms, soothe her and help her sleep. The week after school started, I had to stay away from family….AGAIN.

And then the lows hit me. It felt like I was buried alive sometimes. I hardly went out for walks, would binge on mystery channels and Netflix and had a hard time to concentrate on reading…someone who used to read 3 to 4 books a week…my mind seemed to be slipping.

Work was getting heavier…calls were abundant and intense and although I was relieved youths and young adults were reaching out, once off the phones, I was back in that dark hole.

I tried anti-depressants for three months and nothing seemed to change and then it was increased and after two days of that awful feeling, I called my pharmacist to ask if I could quit cold turkey…it happened to be a medication that had little to no side effects if stopped suddenly. That was the same day I heard from a dear friend who was caring for her son who had a terminal illness…I think that is what woke me up. Life is still going on…cancer, heart attacks, strokes and other debilitating diseases are still around…in fact, it is even harder for them with all the restrictions and precautions due to this pandemic. No, that was like a slap in the face for me…I wanted to try something else to get out of my dark hole. It was time to start practicing what I preached to so many of my callers.

But two weeks ago I lost my voice. Well, you cannot answer calls on a crisis line with no voice and even if this week it is raspy, my vocal chords still need a lot of healing due to a couple of reasons. Reflux was the main culprit as that damages vocal chords a lot! My doctor gave me a three month treatment and warned me it would take time. And so here I am, trying to write again. Today, I was admiring some of the posts my colleagues submitted on our internal Slack showing their hobbies. That reminded me how much I had changed.

In March and April I was writing a little more, refurbishing furniture and getting into artsy things like water colouring, colouring and considering oil painting. I was plugged into YouTube so many hours a day learning new DIY’s from makeover rooms to arts and crafts and then summer came, and I stopped.

I picked up knitting but within a few weeks my arthritis warned me painfully not to overdo it and so I picked up crocheting and with the help of YouTube learned new stitches or how to improve what little I did know. I just finished crocheting a shawl for my daughter in law, almost finished knitting a throw and almost finished knitting a long, long scarf. In the summer I had purchased over $100 worth of yarn for a baby blanket but every time I start knitting something, it takes too long and hurts my achy body and I get discouraged and take it apart. I knit a bit, then crochet a bit….that way I don’t overuse my body.

Oh, and in August, I slipped down the stairs of my condo on wet steps the idiot janitor did not put a sign it was wet and there I flew right into a wall. The only thing that still hurts is my left wrist which does not help with crocheting or knitting. But then again, those are things that may be soothing but they are passive…not helping with my dark moods.

Today, I logged onto WordPress and checked in my Reader to see who I was following and the first post that caught my attention was Linda’s. Gee thanks, kiddo!

So here I am trying to get back into writing. Oh, I have written similar posts like this one before but after an hour or so I would just delete them. This time around, I am hoping on this Friday the 13^th, it will bring me good fortune and back to my old passion that has always been so therapeutic…writing.

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Nov. 14/2020 – Ring

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Dear Emma ~ Day 119

Dear Emma,

DAY 119

We are amidst a heatwave again…feels like 45C even if it is 35C. So this morning I woke up early and was tired of the intrusive roar of the A/C so I turned it off and increased the speed of the ceiling fan and tried to get an hour or so more sleep since I had fallen asleep at dawn! That happens when I want to read until my eyes drop.

I notice that when I sleep later in the morning, I don’t get into a deep sleep but seem to stay in REM sleep. Oh my! the silliest short videos that were flashing in my mind and then I saw an old grey monitor…like the computers of the early 90’s…small and thick. I did not see an image but heard my mom’s voice echo…kinda like the voices we hear in a bad video chat connection or cell phone connection. You know that sound like the person is talking under water? And she just said, “Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Well, gee!! I suddenly realized Mom was also living in the heatwave and not able to spend the day at the mall like so many seniors do to find cooler air. But with the pandemic (this must be my lucid dream part) I realized that she may be stuck somewhere. I knew she never had a computer…so I asked her where she was, “Are you at the police station?” I asked her if she was at the RCMP which is our federal police force known as the Mounties here in Canada. I don’t know why I asked her that…we never see them around here …maybe at the airport but not a small town like where my mom lived. I think I must have been influenced with the bad media on how the mounties (notice I don’t even want to grace them with a capital letter now?) have abused their power on indigenous people. Of course I knew that has been going on for years but now, thanks to witnesses, we have videos so the world can see the “truth”. Finally all police forces are being watched!! It is sad that too many do NOT understand what Defund the Police means. They are so afraid of their jobs and even leaders and premiers do not get it…well, some do but the ones in Quebec and Ontario. I remember hearing a chief of police in another province saying tht 90% of their calls are for wellness issues. Well defunding just means transferring some funds to have a mental health worker go with one police officer rather than now there are 2 and sometimes 8! that show up for a wellness check. Hello!! how stupid is that? Of course the person is going to freak out and rather than KNOW how to deescalate, they just beat them or some just shoot them. Enough is enough!! Oh, sorry, Emma, I got off topic there but I have to say these issues are upsetting me more than the pandemic really.

When I woke up this morning, I kept hearing Mom’s voice and it was just like her to always start a conversation on the telephone when I lived far away, “Don’t worry, I’m fine.” And she would always end it with “Don’t forget to say your 3 Hail Mary’s and Act of Confession before you go to bed.”

Mom knew me so well. She knew when I was worried or unhappy about something too. That’s why every time I did see her, I always made sure to dress especially nice and put make up on and fix my hair. I learned all of this from her actually…. we like to hide our pain…even when we see the doctor. I know that sounds weird. Years ago, when mom was admitted to hospital for repetitive angina attacks, the on call cardiologist recognized her and warned staff, “Don’t go by her looks…IF she is here, she IS really not feeling well.”

Remember how our mothers always told us growing up(I am talking to baby boomers mostly) to ensure you had clean underwear on? Well, mom at 75+ would ensure to wear her fanciest “bikini” panties if she went to hospital!

Anyway, my day started off so well since it is my day off, and hearing mom’s voice just kept putting a big goofy smile on my face. How I love her and miss her each day! However, I also am thankful she is not here during this pandemic for she would have been alone, scared and confused with her dementia that no one was visiting her. There is that, I suppose, I can be thankful for, right?

Yesterday was my official start date at my place of work on a national youth helpline…twenty years ago. (about 33,000 hours). Yep, I started on July 9^th, 2000. I call it my millennium job and last job. I did not think it would ever be my last but each year I got more and more attached to my work as well as my peers. Working here has allowed me to grow as well. Listening to difficult calls about child abuse is not easy but it allowed me to get support and process any leftover stuff I had as well. Like that old cliché, “you get so much more back when helping others.”

Our clinical director wrote such a nice email congratulating me on this milestone…and two days ago I had a Zoom celebration with my peers from across the country.

Hello all!

As many of you are already aware, Oliana has been with ******** for TWENTY YEARS. A gathering to celebrate this accomplishment was held earlier in the week but today marks the official anniversary.

At the celebration earlier in the week, I asked for a show of hands for who in the group received support from Oliana during their initial days as a ******** counsellor. There were a LOT of hands raised. J

I have always appreciated how generous Oliana is with her knowledge and experience as new counsellors join the team. I remember myself that when I started, Oliana was always there with a warm welcome, a check in and a wiliness to share her wisdom.

One of the things I know about Oliana is how much this amazing work that we do runs through her veins. She brings her heart to work, every single day. The value she holds for the young people who reach out to us runs to her core. She has always pushed herself to grow in her practice and her self care to ensure that she is fully present with each person she speaks to. In twenty years I can only imagine how many young people (and parents!) Oliana touched.

I cannot say how much this warmed my heart to hear what some said about me. I never realized how I come across to people…it is like that the JOHARI Window…parts of our self we may not know, and we learn from others sharing what they see. I just noticed Joseph Luft, one of the co-founders of this technique died in 2014…the same year my mom passed. I guess she was telling me to revisit this technique. There are no such things as coincidences but G-d sending us messages [smiles]…that comforts me because since I heard Mom’s voice this morning that she is okay, might mean she has entered those pearly gates already and she is still looking out for us here. I don’t think she went there right away. I believe she stuck around to comfort those who missed her…and maybe she had a party out there with family and friends who were waiting for her…it gives me comfort to think this.

The Johari window is a technique^[1] that helps people better understand their relationship with themselves and others. It was created by psychologists Joseph Luft (1916–2014) and Harrington Ingham (1916–1995) in 1955, and is used primarily in self-help groups and corporate settings as a heuristic exercise.^[2][3] Luft and Ingham named their model “Johari” using a combination of their first names. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johari_window

Luft, J.; Ingham, H. (1955). “The Johari window, a graphic model of interpersonal awareness”. Proceedings of the Western Training Laboratory in Group Development. Los Angeles: University of California, Los Angeles.

https://www.wisc-online.com/learn/general-education/oral-interpersonal/oic21819/the-johari-window-screencast

I feel a bit more energized today than yesterday. Thursdays are my down time…literally, I am down as it is my first day off after 3 days of working on the helpline. I sleep in late and feel sort of moody. I cry easily thinking of my present situation with this pandemic (I had a break from it for 3 days as I was busy consoling and counselling others). Now I tend to my wounds…I feel lonesome, isolated and disappointed a bit not hearing more from my kids…just a little text saying, “Hi mom, hope you are doing ok…we are all fine here” would help. But I have mentioned to both of them that a brief message brings me joy and makes me worry less. I will not repeat this request…I refuse to be a nagging mom or put guilt on them like my grandmother did to my mom and to us. But still, I do miss them. My son argues with me that I can just pick up the phone too…but they are busy and I am always afraid to disturb them… the last few times I called on my own, they did have things to do. I have more free time, so I prefer they call when they are free.

I guess I just want them to “want” to call me. My cousin’s wife does though…every other day. She quit her job to take care of her mom after her dad died and she is quite involved in helping my aunt, her mother in law. She is a godsend and like a sister to me. We bitch together, cry together and laugh together…so I cannot really complain. I also have several friends who tell me to call them anytime. One used to be my colleague/counsellor and I often feel the need to debrief some of my work…with her, I can…she gave me permission to feel free to dump on her anytime…she knows how to deal with it. She is such a brilliant and caring professional and friend. She has been a lot of help in pushing me to assert myself more often when my kids can be a bit brusque with me.

At least the cats are vocal today…so I gave them some fresh tuna (cat tuna of course). Opening the patio window a little to check the weather…I immediately closed it to keep the cool AC air inside. I can admire my beautiful mother’s day flowers from my daughter from my living room and kitchen. That will have to do.

I ordered 2 wooden folding patio chairs the other day and was so surprised to receive them two days after the order was sent! The delivery date was July 29^th to August 10^th on the original order. So now the two boxes are in the spare room…I wait 24 hours before opening cardboard boxes but since the chairs MAY have been handled as well, I will wait at least four days (https://www.webmd.com/lung/how-long-covid-19-lives-on-surfaces) At least that way I don’t have to disinfect it. I am tired of cleaning some items that come into my home, so I have the spare room as well as 2 shelves in a cabinet in that same room to put some non-perishable grocery items. I started that three weeks ago and I cannot get over the time it has saved me but mostly the stress. You see, even if I am cleaning, washing and disinfecting, it just increases my stress reminding me of the times we are living and you know what? Sometimes I just need to NOT know for a few hours.

I went out to the grocery store for the first time since March 13^th at the beginning of June. I have gone a total of 3 times and it really still stresses me out so I will continue to order online. I don’t have a car and so walking there which is only 1km away and then walking back, I am a bit tired since I walked around at the store as well, breathing with more effort with my mask, stopping now and then to clean my hands…sheesh and then when I get home, I STILL HAVE TO WASH EVERYTHING! So I will limit my outings to going to the drug store now to get rubbing alcohol (at each visit…I’m stocking up in case there is a second wave) I picked up some wrapping paper and a baby shower card two weeks ago (have not gone out for a walk in over two weeks due to the heatwave). My son and daughter in law are having a BabyQ (baby shower and BBQ) with my family this Saturday. (They scheduled a 2^nd BabyQ with my daughter in law’s family another day). I still feel uncomfortable going…of course I want to see my children and grandsons but I am still scared of catching something. I have to depend on someone driving me there and back…so that too worries me. Oh well, we shall see how I feel tomorrow. Last night I wrapped all the presents and put all in one box…that way it will be almost 48 hours before they touch anything I have touched, and they should be just fine and 99.9999% virus free.

I really need to walk more though…but the heat affects my breathing and gives me such migraines…so I walk, dance and walk some more in my condo. If I do not go out for a walk, I average at least 3500 steps per day…so I think that’s fine, don’t you? And when it gets cooler in the evening, I can’t wait to set my new chairs on the balcony and I can read …I have purchased several books…a few written by James Baldwin (what an amazing writer) and I just finished one by Maya Angelou. In between these more serious novels, I read lots and lots of mysteries or psychological thrillers on my Kindle or Kobo…all are on my iPad and iPhone as well, so I can still read late at night outside, not requiring any light. When you think about it, I am pretty darn lucky. I have a comfortable condo, I have air conditioning, I have a part time job so I don’t have to worry about the extra costs of groceries these days and I have devices to pass my time, connect with friends and family AND connect with my readers here. Yes, I sure am blessed!! Gee, Emma, Mom sure put me in a GOOD mood today [big goofy smile]

Thanks for listening, Emma,

Best,

Oliana

Image may contain: 1 person, plant, table, flower and indoor

heart fills with love
looking fondly at such beauty
a gift from you

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Dear Emma ~ Day 62 ~May 15/2020

I decided to read up on the Spanish Flu. Why? I avoided it before because it scared me too much. I remember hearing my grandmother talk about how she was sick after she had her first child. She was sure she would die. She talked about how high her fever was and she had lost a lot of her hair…and when she recovered it grew back thicker…so she claims. I have her thick hair and so do my children, so I doubt it was due to the flu but we all liked the story thinking how she had flirted death and came back stronger even her hair!

Last night I wanted to know how many deaths in Canada during that pandemic…55,000 deaths just in Canada and over 675,000 in America. Some say the first case was somewhere in Europe (no not Spain actually, they were the only country who were neutral during the war so they were allowed to report this to the media). It is debated that the first case of the Spanish flu was in USA, Britain, France or China. Was Mother Nature trying to take over WWI? I know that sounds probably farfetched, but the outbreak was during the war.

Today, there are still wars and regardless of where you are…even if you are in a peaceful country, travel has made our world smaller. Technology has connected us and perhaps millions of lives have been saved due to this global awareness. Yet, there are some who bury their heads in the sand and say it is a hoax. There is no reason for such ignorance in the world we live. There is no room for ignorance and hatred…period! But many are hungry, scared and more concerned of dying of starvation…if that were my reality, wouldn’t my perspective be different? It might.

I try not to crank up my anger but sometimes I do. I watch the news worldwide (again, how lucky are we to be able to do that?!) I get angry watching countries such as our southern neighbours protesting and putting health care workers at risk when they are already risking their lives trying to save OUR lives. I get angry when a friend or colleague tells me they refuse to wear a mask because it infringes on their rights and liberties. Well, sure, you have the right to die if you want but you are also risking the lives of others. Of course, I don’t say that…I simply say, “I choose to wear one where I am not sure if I can respect social distancing out of respect for others. I tell myself I may have the virus and it is my duty to protect others.” I have been carrying a mask in a Ziplock bag since last October. Indeed, at first it was to protect me from the regular flu since I travel on public transit and due to some respiratory and autoimmune conditions. Now I go out always assuming I have the virus which puts me in the frame of mind of avoiding contact …not to be afraid of people but rather to protect them. (Well, okay, I do worry when deliveries arrive since they are so exposed, but I think we look at each other and we are both scared! We smile sheepishly extending our arms to take a parcel. I usually tell them to drop it on the floor and I’ll go pick it up when they have left.)

So back to masks…I don’t see why in North American we seem more prickly about the whole idea…Wake up people! It reminds me of when we were mandated to wear seat belts. My father had been wearing his a few years before because he travelled a lot and it made sense to him. And let me tell you, he was not a pushover, but he was logical and smart.

Last night as I was reading up on the flu a century ago, what struck me was the second wave. That is what actually killed more people. So reopening things now in the world needs to be done slowly and with caution…knowing that that invisible killer enemy is lingering waiting patiently for people to make a a false move…and we do because we’re human. If there is anything that I have learned in this was how many things we touch when we go out of our homes. Yeah I knew about busses and Metros and poles and how disgusting they can be. But now I am becoming more aware of grocery shopping…how many things do we touch or hold in our hand and read the ingredients and then put it back? A lot! I never thought of wiping down a box of cereal before now.

I always carry my hand sanitizer hooked onto my backpack and for example, if I blow my nose, I automatically use the hand sanitizer when I’m in a public place (transit as well) and not close to a sink to wash my hands. Now all of these little good hygiene habits are being multiplied by xxxxxxx!

Speaking with some people who admit they have OCD feel relieved to see how NOW all their habits are commonplace for them and their peers and family have to adjust…they don’t. It is a changing world. I am still at a place trying to wrap my head around being in this state of extra vigilance for a year or maybe even two. I can live with being extra careful. I can live with washing all my groceries. I can even live with wearing a mask in public but I suffer not being able to hug my children and close friends…some colleagues too. I’m a hugger. I hope I will be able to hold and rock my newborn grandchild to be in September…but I am willing to wear a mask and gloves…just have the luxury of holding her or him.

I wonder if there is such a thing as a hugging machine…

Thanks for listening, Emma…hugs but you don’t hug back so it does NOT count (sighs).

From left to right: Gladys Stephenson, Cora Stephenson, Addie McDonald, and Annie Grisdale — four telephone operators — pose outside their workplace wearing masks to protect themselves from the outbreak.
https://www.canadashistory.ca/explore/arts-culture-society/killer-flu

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Day 47 Meal break April 29 2020

During her lunch break she wanted to go out for a walk but there were too many people walking the street. Some two by two, a teen on roller blades and cyclist in shorts. Resigning to taking the garbage out, she felt she might soak up the sun for a few minutes. When she walked out her heart skipped a beat…”No, don’t close the gate yet, I need to bring mine”…standing at 5 metres from them she felt her heart swell…

finally spring
showing its warmth
sun beaming

finally spring
forced her out
a brief moment

showing its warmth
two ladies by the dumpster
excites her

sun beaming
halos circle their heads
smiling at me

She is not alone. That is what the isolation makes you feel as if you are alone feeling what feel. The women both nodded that they had good days and bad days. Yes!! It was such a relief to speak to live women close to her age …we share the love for our offspring, the worry, the longing. And even though it is a sad reality, she walked back to her unit with a lighter foot.

she’s okay
speaking to live humans in person
sighs

Originally posted at TournesolDansUnJardin

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Dear Emma ~ April 26 2020 Day 46

What is it with saying “How are you?” never really wanting to know and passing by so swiftly I hardly have time to say, “I’m well, thank you and how are you doing?” Ah but that would entail engaging…social confinement is not that hard for me actually…I can go 2, 3 even 4 months without hearing from family…friends even less often. I used to feel a bit guilty, sort of like I was cheating never calling anyone, reading book after book and enjoying my life as a caterpillar. I would even order groceries on line a few times in the winter, hating to slip and slide on icy sidewalks EVEN with cleats on my boots. Yes, I realize that this is nothing very different for me. Since February 1st when I moved in this condo, I saw one friend who helped me unpack and my son and his wife 2 or 3 times. I had not gone in the office to work more than four times since February 1st and I only went in because I felt forced to show my presence. No, this is just fine for me.

Social distancing, now that is hard for me. When I see someone I like to approach them and talk to them, look in their eyes when I speak, touch them on the shoulder sometimes even if they are not friends. I do miss walking where I want when I want and not feel wary. I miss going to a coffee shop though…a lot! I love to sit with my cappuccino or misty coffee and my tablet and letting my muse sweeten my mind.

In February, I had time to check out a Tim Horton’s in my neighbourhood but that was not quite as interesting. Even MacDonalds (their espresso is pretty good and cheap) but did not like the ambiance. I like a coffee shop where you hear murmuring, seeing people writing or reading.

I was about to check out a bakery/ coffee shop but never had a chance. My daughter in law told me about it when she brought me a cake for my birthday March 8th. They came over a day early since it was Sunday and they wanted to celebrate at the weekend and we ordered in. That was the last meal we had together. They came by the following Saturday when my son sealed my shower for me since it had leaked in my neighbour’s bathroom…a little. What a way to meet a neighbour for the first time. I am pretty sure it was just the seal but we dare NOT check that out and make a mess in her condo again. So I promised condo management I had condemned the shower and would only use my bath. However, I refused to have a professional plumber come in to investigate what other reason may have caused this because we were already on lockdown. That was the last time I saw my son and daughter in law…we had not hugged that day…they had not stayed too long either. My son was a bit concerned for two reasons: on March 12th my grandson had come over to my place for lunch and March 13th, I had gone to a grocery store and drug store and there had been a person reported positive in my area who also took a bus and a Metro that I had. And so we waited…never got sick, thank goodness.

No, it is not being at home that bothers me as much but when I need a real good fix of getting away and seeing people, I like to rent a car for a few days and go on “Nowhere trips”. Those are my favourite kind of trips. But I live further and cannot walk to the rental place…I would have to take two buses to get there. And how safe are rental cars anyway these days? Paranoia or caution or both have consumed me.

I found the first month harder ONLY because I wanted to purchase things for my new place and buy paint and just decorate it a bit. I have had to try to do what I can with what I have. Watching youtube I found recipes for homemade chalk paint with bicarbonate sodium and sampled it on a little tv table. Not sure I like it. I just received an order from Amazon for bicarbonate calcium and will try the other table and see if it is smoother to apply.

In the past two weeks, I feel I need a change. I have always had 2 or 3 sets of drapes for a change as well as three sets of chair and couch covers. (that’s what I love about Ikea and washable covers). But in my move, I had decided to give away maybe a bit too much. I should have waited to see what may still work well here. And you know what? This is so not important now. I think the fact that we are all stuck inside, decorating and moving furniture is the only way to change the scenery. So I need to just work on finishing furniture. I just finished a gateleg table…not bad. The stain is blotchy a but I just learned the hard way the maple and pine need to have a wood conditioner applied so stain is more even. Oh well, lesson learned.

What I find difficult about this lockdown and gradual opening up again is that enemy that is threatening the lives of people all over the world…and the people I love. I wish my daughter in law could be happy and giddy carrying her first child; I wish my son could have been permitted to be with her and hear the heart beat and ultrasound. I wish my grandson could come over here for lunches to get a break from high school and now with lockdown, he can’t even spend a few days here to get away for a change. I wish my daughter and son in law did not have to cope with working from home and try to keep three teenage boys mildly content without getting on each other’s nerves. Mostly, I find myself weeping when I am not busy painting, cleaning or working on the crisis line. I weep for the younger people who are looking ahead at what the future holds for them. No mother or grandmother wants to see her loved ones suffer.

No, it’s not the isolation that bugs me…it’s the enemy lurking around invisibly threatening the lives of people I love.

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Daily moments – April 21, 2017 – Quiet of day (haibun)

That time of day where words are not required…silence carries a life of its own. The homeless man whose weary feet, too heavy to continue, marks a spot to rest an hour or five. The rush hour street car groans its morning tune…his lullaby.

The heroes of the night who keep watch for those where pain and suffering visit at two in the morning..nursing homes, hospitals, police stations, helplines…winding down their long day seeing flashes of their comfy bed mingled with the trauma they just witnessed. No words…just thoughts, visions…turning into a steady hum.

Stray cats seek a dry abode, giving chirping critters the eye that says it all. Birds chant their morning praise, feeling lucky to be alive… singing melodies of joy, hoping to see that worm raise its lovely head…

Bakeries and coffee shops are already ready to help mankind jump-start the day.
Mornings are such a foreign thing to her. So, this is how the other half lives …some starting their day and others winding down. She, falls in between …feels as if she is always trying to catch up…

Hear the silent hum
Melodies
Brew at dawn

(c)Tournesol’17-04-21