Although the annual celebration dates back to 1600’s in the US and 1872 in Canada, the tradition is observed in many countries globally to honour the harvest and give thanks for the bounty. We celebrate with food and family and friends. And give thanks for our blessings. I personally have thanksgiving everyday. I know just how lucky I am for the abundance in my life.

This weekend we enjoyed a family gathering with my parents and sister and brother in law and added our special friends Leo and Sandy. Of course Molly and Otto were in the midst too. We gathered to feast and enjoy each others company. Luckily our house can accommodate the whole bunch. I’m happiest being able to prepare goodies for my tribe to eat and drink. Laughter and discussion around a table is always delightful.

The weather lent itself to all things and we were able to partake in some of the outdoor adventures this area has to offer. The salmon are running in Thornbury and we stopped to watch their tiring courageous efforts. It’s an amazing feat they accomplish. The forest trails were vibrant with colour and serene as leaves gently tumbled to the ground. The beach was breezy and bright reminding us that summer has waned and colder days lie ahead.

The house has heated floors and the system is new to us. Having my folks around means cranking the heat. We misjudged the effect of radiant heat and the result was a very warm atmosphere. Great for the elderly. Not so much for the menopausal or Molly. Yikes. With a bit of tweaking it’s better now. At one point my sister actually dabbed my brow and upper lip. I was sporting a sweat stash.

Sitting around the fire table is awesome. Our deck overlooks the Bay and the accompanying whispers of the surf are mesmerizing. Fire, water, booze and laughter. That’s the perfect combo. That and my sister commandeering my phone to snap a few pics. ❤️ she’s good like that.

I realize that my folks are getting old. Seems the transformation is moving more quickly these days. They love the get togethers and enjoy the banter. But I sense their tiredness and am grateful for their efforts. Mom knows when to hit the hay. But dad won’t let a card game slip away. He’s in there like flint! It’s easy to see where our competitive nature comes from.

My cup runneth over. I’m eternally thankful.

In grade 11 our physics teacher, Mr Creech (creecher behind his back) was teaching us about Isaac Newton’s theory: stationary objects tend to remain stationary. He held a ketchup bottle up horizontally to demonstrate his point. In order to get the ketchup out of the bottle you could a) listen to Carly Simon and wait in “anticipation “for it to ooze once inverted or b) bang the bottom of the bottle or c) the point of the demo, hold the bottle horizontally and bang the lid with your palm thereby driving the bottle back and the contents remaining stationary the result is ketchup “moving” to the neck of the bottle. Ingenious! A great way to demonstrate physics and impact young minds thinking about french fries at lunch. With ketchup.

I think the same theory is true of life. Like the saying “if you want something done, ask a busy person to do it”; that used to be me. A few weeks ago, mom got a magnifying tool from our neighbour. After a few days I asked how it was working out. Dad said they hadn’t really tried it yet (meaning it was exactly where they they left it after bringing it home). He said they were too busy. I ask: busy doing what? His response: busy doing nothing. OMG. I get it. I used to have super scheduled days: up early, dog out, make breakfast, answer a few emails, load of wash, defrost dinner, make lunches and race out the door. Commute for at least an hour and plow through the day: meetings, complaints, blow smoke, fire prevention, fire extinguishing, bob and weave. Back on the road with every other angry and frustrated driver. Home: dogs out, dinner, possible fitness class, bed. Repeat. Ugh.

I’m liberated now. I’m busy doing nothing. Not really. I’m busy doing the things I enjoy and feel like: reading, cooking, strolling, soaking, exploring, yogaing …

but in the back of my mind (and not always in the back) is the notion that not scurrying like a rat is unproductive. Lazy. Useless. Mostly the notion is fleeting. But were it to settle in and permeate would my retired blissful state of mind be in jeopardy? Like the people who don’t transition well and become despondent and reclusive?

My mom has a laundry list of things she was planning to do with infinite time in retirement. Things like painting and knitting and volunteering. But when her retirement happened none of those other things did. Her routine was shattered and her retirement dreams too. I’m trying to grasp the reason(s) – I have asked her , but the response is fuzzy and unhelpful. Like asking her about menopause issues: how long did your hot flashes last? Etc. The answer an uninformative: I don’t think I had menopause. Right. Ok.

So I’m wading into the retirement abyss with Rudy and making it up as we go along. Yesterday we were “stationary objects”. A long leisurely walk in the arboretum (after a wonderful sleep in and late breakfast) followed by a blissful soak in the hot tub. Another walk (thank god for Molly). An early dinner at 5 with conversation about life. Then the political debate on tv.

For rat race types, is the life of leisure equal to being stationary? And can stationary lifestyles be meaningful and fulfilling?

That’s the question of the day. I’m going to get up now and think about it.

Carpe diem!

One thing leads to another. At the Alzheimer’s workshop the facilitator, Pam, talks about other programs and classes. There’s cooking and painting and a weekly gathering at The Local. Every Wednesday.

Wednesday is a free day for mom. There’s no exercise classes on Wednesday or Friday. So I’m curious to find out more.

The Local is a community hub in the former Co-op building. We used to get bird food and other garden supplies there. It was mostly for farmers. Now it’s been repurposed to include a large dining area with a piano and other entertainment stuff (a microphone) and commercial kitchen. There’s also gardens in the greenhouses. It’s a community gathering place.

On Wednesday they host the seniors and feature gentle exercise followed by lunch and social (either a guest speaker or bingo etc). Pam tells us it starts at 11:30 am. Sounds great. I switch my schedule around and plan to take mom. Hopefully dad will take her to the legion on Thursday. I drive by with dad so he sees exactly where he needs to go.

Mom and I arrive at The Local. It’s pouring rain so I drive mom to the door. It’s 11:20 am and the lot is jam packed. I’m impressed. When we get inside I check in at the door. The exercise class started at 10:30 (not 11:30 as we were told). Oh well. We join another table of ladies. Lunch will be served at 11:30 am

I can see the hustle and bustle in the open kitchen. They (about 8 or so volunteers) are plating. I notice there’s a couple of “servers” so I tell mom I’m going to pitch in. She’s already talking to the others at our table. I head over to the kitchen and offer my services. There’s about 80 people ready to eat and they are waiting to be served. It takes a few minutes and everyone is eating. One of the servers approaches me. Are you a Mikler? Yes. Do I know you? Yes. I’m Bev Mason. Oh wow. Former neighbours. Her daughter Heather was my brothers prom date in grade 8. I permed her hair for the occasion. I tell her mom is here and less her over to the table.

They get reacquainted but mom is confused. It takes a bit longer for her to make the connections in her brain. She thinks about it and it clicks later on.

We eat lunch which is a kale salad with peaches and raspberry vinaigrette and goats cheese alongside a fall veggie stir fry on rice. Mom cleans her plate. I offer to get everyone coffee. Then another lady approaches our table and says hello to mom. Mom looks at me confused. I ask the lady to tell mom her name. It’s Angus MacDermids sister Sally. She worked at FAG. They have a nice chat.

Since there’s no social today (the lady who runs it didn’t show up) we get ready to leave. It’s still raining so I dash for the car. We drive home and dad is waiting for us inside. He asks where we are going for lunch. Oh dear. I’ve reminded him every day on our phone call that today was a new thing. He didn’t want to come. I brought him soup to eat. He didn’t. He forgot.

He’s more concerned about the soccer matches. His team played yesterday but he couldn’t watch it. I ask if he tried the DAZN channel. He said it wasn’t on You Tube. Oh no. He doesn’t know how to access the sports channel. So we Ho into his “office” and he shows me how to get to the channels. He finds You Tube. Somehow he’s locked into You Tube and didn’t realize the other. Then it occurs to me that my brother set it up this summer while dad had cataract surgery. It didn’t sink in.

We go through the routine and find the right channel. There’s a great game on. It’s not Bayern but it’s Dortmund another German team. He’s stoked. Better yet his brother calls (he watches the games on his computer and tells dad the score). Dad excitedly tells him he gets it on his tv. He should come over and watch. Yes. Next time.

Dad can’t decide if he’d rather watch tv or play cards. He decides he can do both. He’s probably hungry. Then I notice the cookies I brought have been sampled. At least he ate something. Mom in the mean time has been trying to tell dad about everyone she met at lunch. He’s a bit distracted but listens and comments. Suddenly mom gets a paper (it’s her homework from last week) she flips to the blank side and takes my pen. “Tell me the name of the place we went today. I think Hilde would like it”. I tell her and she writes it down. Wow. I seize the moment and say “while you’re at it you can do your homework “. Meh. Dad pipes up: I did mine. Do you want to check it?? OMG. He gleefully produces his sheet. It’s on the side table with the dictionary he used. Too cute.

After cards I think he’s wishing he stuck to tv. He wasn’t as lucky as the German soccer team. I made him a shaming sign. His ass is grass.

Remember, dad, you have to take mom to the legion tomorrow at 10 am. Ja. Ok. What time is that? 10 am. Ok.

Why is it so easy, it seems, to let the negative prevail and Astro-glide over the good stuff? Perhaps it’s news in general. Bad or shockingly horrific news sells. Dr Phil and his ilk thrive on people’s despair. My mom has been sucked into the negative cycle and it’s a challenge to get her out.

Earlier this year I took her to the Alzheimer’s society for an intake assessment. I was less than tickled with their approach but I’ve learned from experience that you can’t throw in the towel. I think my moms ability to do things without my dad is a good thing for them both. So a few weeks ago we started attending “Minds in Motion” at the Legion. I thought I had dad convinced to go with us (they said it’s good for participants to have some help and especially mom with her vision impairment) but on the day of, when I got to their place to pick them up, dad advised that he couldn’t come with us because he had to pick up his favourite bread from the bakery. Yup, a flimsy excuse but I got it. He likes a break from mom and she, in some ways, is better on her own too. Independence is taken for granted until yours is gone. Ask any prisoner.

Off we go. Not knowing what to expect I try to tell mom to keep an open mind. No. She’s not having it. Luckily the drive there is only 1 minute. Reality is better than “what iffing “. We are greeted at the door by Terry; he’s a volunteer. All the volunteers are wearing blue T-shirts. We walk into the room (which is the banquet room being repurposed) and there’s a circle of chairs set up. Another volunteer gets us a name badge. We take a seat. Mom is next to a man named Brian on her other side and I’m next to Jean. The circle starts to fill in and the last to arrive is a hunched over man being helped by his wife. He becomes the distraction of the group.

It’s a two hour session that begins with some gentle exercises and stretches. The facilitator, Pam, is a cheerful and bubbly younger woman who puts on her Bluetooth speaker with a little Steve Miller to get our toes tapping. (It was more of a Glen Miller crowd but a beat is a beat). For the next hour we engage in a series of motions that everyone does at their own pace. It was like watching little kids. Everyone was doing a variation with brains and mobility working not so harmoniously. However it was the latecomer gentleman who was almost immobile and his wife was beside him helping out. For her efforts he shouted at her “I can do it! I can do it!” He was loud and angry sounding. The shouting turned into foul language. Typical angry demented outbursts. Luckily everyone was more focused on their own movement.

But once we sat down for the ball exercise portion, the yelling was profound. Suddenly my mom tells him out loud to “shut up”. I bend over to her and say that he can’t help it. I notice that Brian next to mom is shocked at her outburst. He looks afraid. Then another string of shouted profanity from across the room “you’re an asshole! I’ll do it myself!” (The sane two or three phrases over and over) Now my mom is laughing. I can see her shoulders shaking up and down; it’s an inappropriate response but I can’t help smiling weakly and glancing at Pam. She gives me a sympathetic nod.

Once the exercise portion is complete the yeller is escorted out of the room by his wife. A volunteer hands out a granola bar while the others rearrange the room to have us at a giant u-shaped table. We are starting the “minds” portion.

Pam has created a few ice breakers and games to get us engaged and conversing. The theme is getting to know each other. She hands out a slip of paper to each of us (my mom tries to decline due to her vision but we ignore her). Everyone is to write down one thing about themselves that others wouldn’t know. While the papers and pens are being distributed my mom starts to chat with Terry the volunteer. I let mom know I’ve written down “I speak German” on her slip. But she’s busy chatting and that’s more important as far as I’m concerned.

Pam calls order to the group and starts st one end of the u. Everyone says their one thing. It gets to mom. She announces loudly that she can’t see and I’m her caregiver; she then adds that she’s forgotten what I wrote down (a few chuckles from the others) I whisper to her. Oh yes (as though everyone heard my whisper) she says, we came to Canada in 1959 and we lived in Manus Road …. she continues on oblivious that the rest followed instructions to say “one thing”. Everyone listens politely and finally she’s done and Pam moves on. The process takes an hour. Mom wants to keep chatting with Terry.

Week one is done. Mom liked it. But I didn’t know how much until we picked dad up and went for lunch. She wanted to tell dad all about it. He was going along with it until she said there was other men there and he should come too. The end.

For week two it was the same routine. But Yeller was absent and a few new faces were there. Name tags on we get our seats and the music starts. The theme of the “minds” session is “back to school”. I’m in! Pam hands out a slip and tells us that we need to write down a memory. Easy. I love cleaning chalk brushes and smelling the gestetner ink at Avon school. It’s moms turn. “I can’t remember anything”, she says. I say tell them what you just mentioned about the stick. That was all she needed. She’s gets on a roll about her class after the war. There was over 60 kids in the class seated in rows. She was in the back row with the gifted kids (I didn’t know mom knew the term “gifted”). When the teacher (an angry war veteran ) asked her question and she didn’t know the answer he struck her knuckles with a stick. It was odd to me that most of the memories were negative and involved corporal punishment.

We are out of time so Pam gives everyone a sheet for “homework”. Mom wants to decline but I tell her she can work on it later with dad. Shrug. Ok.

We call dad to tell him we are on our way. It would give him a minute to walk down to the parking lot. But there’s no answer. Dad is ready for us; he’s He’s frustrated. He forgot what time we were going to call. Then he fell asleep and woke up worried that he’d missed the call. He checked the phone. It was dead. He raced down to the parking lot and waited. For more than 30 minutes. He’d forgotten the time. Moms usual exercise class is 9:30 to 10:30. This new one is 10 to noon. When he got in the car he was angry. I had a few flashbacks to my childhood. Dad was angry and frustrated a lot from work. As young kids we couldn’t escape. As high schoolers I joined every club and activity to keep busy (and out of sight). Mad at himself he shouted about the impeachment debacle unfolding on tv. He wanted to argue and shout about the drama in the US.

Mom tried to change the subject. “Where are you taking us for lunch?” I say Boston Pizza. “No way. I don’t want pizza” she says. Dad shouts from the back seat: they have more than pizza. Mom is skeptical. When we arrive and get seated she is assuaged.

Dad orders a beer and mom a glass of wine. Whew. The edge is off. Mom gets to tell about her workshop. When she tells dad about her memory from school, he looks up from his salad and says with incredulity: “you told that story in public???”

Then he jumps in to talk about his day at the factory where he worked. They had an open house and he went with my uncle. This line of discussion gets him back on an even keel. Or maybe it was the beer. He had two. Mom enjoyed her wrap with rice. Better than pizza.

Every year my brother,sister and I along with our spouses and my nephew get together for a weekend of camaraderie and football. This year we chose Texas as our destination. My nephew is an exuberant fan so he suggested we do a college game Saturday followed by an NFL game on Sunday.

We leave Molly at home knowing that our friend Sandy would be arriving to stay with her and Otto. At the airport I realize that I’ve left my phone in the car. Could I survive the weekend without my appendage?? It would be a definite challenge.

I’ve never been to Texas and I was surprised at the heat. 99F and sunny. By all accounts better beach than football weather but it was game on. My brother organized a huge SUV and was our dedicated designated driver all weekend. He did airport shuttles and all. We all arrived at the rental house my brother procured which we dubbed the tree house. It was a cute multi-level home with 4 bedrooms nestled amongst the trees in the hillside around Austin. Surrounded by multimillion dollar homes this place was just rustic enough to be charming and modern enough to have AC. Luckily. It was hot.

On Friday night we decided to venture out on the town. My nephew chose a dueling piano bar in town called Pete’s and when we arrived the place was starting to fill up. There was about 3 or 4 bridal showers celebrating in the mixed crowd of young student types and more mature guests intermingled around the two back to back grand pianos. There was a long bar and tables and a set of bleachers on the main floor and a balcony mezzanine with tables overlooking the stage. That’s where we sat for the night. The entertainment was excellent! The pianists were talented musicians with wicked senses of humour. Their banter and joking made the night. And the people watching was bar none. The young bridezillas were on fire drinking up a storm and dancing drunkenly on stage. I wonder if any of them made it to the alter the next day? Yikes!

We left the bar and had to navigate the snaking line up outside of people waiting to get in to Pete’s. The streets are blocked off by police and only pedestrians and scooters are allowed after 8 pm. So it was basically a street party. Tons of people moving around amongst the various bars and eateries. A really neat vibe. Rudy and my sister went to get pizza. We we starving after drinking and singing and laughing. We load into the vehicle with our pizza in the back. My sister and I are in the third (back) row with our nephew. He’s handing out pizza. We can’t wait to get to the treehouse. We need food stat! As we gobble my nephew notices that our thighs are fused by sweat. The observation is so hilarious that our row begins to giggle. The giggles turn into laughing fits that has the rest of our group laughing along. If laughter is the best medicine I’m cured! Once we get back to the treehouse we are beat. It’s bed time. As the senior members of our group we scored the master bedroom and en-suite. It was perfect.

Next day we got up leisurely and popped out for vittles without the kids. We end up at a lakeside bistro serving aromatic coffee brews and a variety of pastries and sandwiches. We enjoy our selections outside on the deck overlooking the water. It’s a lovely spot. But it’s hot! A lot of patrons are noshing and reading and several have brought their dogs. Sigh. I miss my girl. Rudy is quick to remind me that she’s having fun at home where it’s much cooler. As Rudy is assuaging my angst he receives a text from Molly (Sandy) saying “I’m fine but I miss you …”. How wonderful.

We pick up the kids and head to the university for the Texas Longhorns game versus Oklahoma. The university is vast. I mentioned scooters earlier. This is the preferred mode of transport around town and campus. These scooters are stand up electric models with handle bars (skateboard style). You tap the ignition with your credit card and the unit unlocks. You can scoot manually or electrically. These things are everywhere and used by the masses. Very innovative and cool. Of course there’s no “winter” in Austin.

The campus is buzzing with action in anticipation of the game. It’s an evening game which is a blessing due to heat. We wander around and end up at a Bavarian style beer hall with food options from the outdoor food trucks. We are grateful to be inside and cool off. The place is packed but somehow Frank and my brother score a huge table to accommodate us all. We load up the table with food to nibble and beers to quench. Yum!!

As we head back outside into the heat we realize we are going to sweat at the game. Sun or no sun, it was hot. Our seats are beauties in the end zone and the huge stadium is electric with excitement. The marching band is lining up and the “spirit teams” (PC for cheerleaders) are hopping and dancing around the sidelines. Suddenly “Freefallin” (TomPetty) is blasting and our attention is riveted on the sky as two skydivers cascade into the stadium as they wave the Longhorns flag. Wow. The band is in formation and is a perfectly synchronized group as they maneuver into words and images visible from above. We enjoy the aerial view from the huge screen. Simply amazing. It’s my first ever US college game and it does not disappoint. All the boxes are checked from my imagination of the experience. The stadium is packed. Not a single empty seat. We are wedged into tight sweaty spaces on the metal stands. Most of the game is spent on our feet cheering. There’s a couple of young men in front of us. They are using side towels to mop off their sweat. I nudge my sister and tell her I’m going to ask if we can borrow the towels for our faces. I’m kidding of course but my sisters face contorts into a seasick grimace as she imagines the thought. Big yuck.

There was an unexpected highlight to the game courtesy of Matthew McConaughey who is a professor at the university and a big football fan. He was at the game in a box seat and every now and then the cameras would focus on him cheering and dancing. Nice additional touch.

After the game (which is by far the longest football game I’ve ever been to ) we join the other 100K plus fans (yes. Austin has the largest stadium in the Big 12 conference) who are trudging to their rides in the heat. Amazing. My sister clocks us at over 12,000 steps. In the heat.

We collapse into our beds knowing that we are wheels up at 9 am for the car-ride to Dallas. Since we aren’t coming back to the treehouse our luggage is coming with. 8 adults and baggage. One huge Ford Expedition loaded to the gills. And we are off. My brother at the helm. The GPS figured it was a 3.5 hour trek. But they didn’t account for my brothers lead foot at 90+ mph. Mario Andretti look out. The impressive thing was the vehicle and how it handled. Gas mileage not so much.

The Dallas AT&T stadium is spectacular. Seeing it in person has been a definite “must do ” on my bucket list. It’s a 10 out of 10. We have amazing seats again and since it’s an indoor stadium we aren’t sweating. The feel is of an outdoor venue because the architecture manipulated the light and space. Unlike Skydome which is cavelike when the roof is closed. The game is predictably one sided as the Cowboys are playing the Dolphins (who suck). But the atmosphere makes up for it. And so do the cheerleaders. There’s no question. They are cheerleaders. Yowza!!

After the game we head to a neat resto called Whiskey Cakes. The menu is very hip and the cocktails (referred to as “elixirs”) are fresh and innovative. We sit at a high top table and devour a board appetizer followed by interesting entrees. Dessert is whiskey cakes served with fresh whipped cream and smothered in bourbon butter sauce. Totally yummy.

Back at the hotel (our accommodation for the night) we rendezvous for our last drink together of the weekend. We are all travelling our separate ways the next morning. It was a whirlwind of epic proportions. We hug. It’s a solid group hug of siblings. A connection for life that will stand the test of time. How lucky are we?

Love me a good fam jam. Love. My. Sibs.

Living in a tourism Mecca means that you can have a revolving door of guests. I like it. It’s great to see friends and spend time catching up, eating great meals and just chilling in the sun. Good company is good for the soul.

This past weekend is one great example of that. Our dear friends from Windsor dropped in on their summer getaway. Ottawa to Windsor via Collingwood is a nice route. And to add more fun into the mix another great couple joined in for a wonderful afternoon and evening. Short and sweet.

Good friends are like a favourite shirt. They are comfortable and familiar and always feel good. This was a great treat for Molly too. They brought along their dog. Molly was a good hostess (it helped that her new pal let her be the boss!) and she had a marvellous time. So did we. The guys golfed. We lounged. Gathered together for awesome dinners. (I have to mention the tomahawk steaks …. wow!!) The walks were awesome as well. Such a blessing to have mother nature’s beauty at our doorstep.

One of my favourite things is the conversation. Getting different perspectives and opinions is refreshing. It’s eye opening to hear what others think about current events and hot topics. It’s challenging (in a good way) to debate about issues. And, as someone astutely pointed out, it’s okay to agree to disagree. So true. No hard feelings no name calling no anything. Just a good old fashioned discussion.

Like your favourite shirt the comfortable feeling is heartwarming; no matter how much time has passed, it still feels good to connect.

When guests leave it’s bittersweet. You say so long for another stretch of time not knowing when (or if – god forbid) you’ll see each other again. Grateful for time well spent and deep friendships rekindled. Then you realize you’re in good company everyday. We like each other and our routines. It’s the best old shirt we wear each day. We also like alone time.

Time to regroup and recharge. More company’s coming. Let the good times roll. 💗

The moon has been a prominent conversation piece lately. It’s huge and bright and fully round. It casts a beam that illuminates the night (very useful for harvesting hence the name). It’s romantic and spooky and mesmerizing all at the same time. I like to think that no matter where you are on the planet, the moon is the same. We all see the same wonderful glowing orb.

Except for my neighbour. He’s going blind. He’s in his 50’s and starting losing his vision about 10 years ago. I can’t imagine the emotions that come with that life sentence. Anger? Sadness? So I stood on our deck last night and while ogling the moon thought of how I would describe it to my neighbour. I realized that words were inadequate. Some things are just visual.

Earlier in the evening we attended a community meeting. There was a guest speaker talking about his NGO. An education based group helping the marginalized both here and abroad. He talked about youth at risk and homeless in our community. It’s hard to believe that in a place of so much wealth and abundance that there’s a hidden underbelly of despair.

I think about the ironies of life: a harvest moon that shines spectacularly evoking positive emotions for some and for others dread and fear. Are we really our brothers keeper? And to what extent?

As we went to bed last night Rudy mentioned that our blind neighbour and his housemate were sitting on the back deck. Watching the moon. Playing music. It occurred to me that perhaps the housemate was describing the moon and then realized it was the music which was likely helping him remember what the moon looked like.

I’m realizing a lot more these days. Reflections of life choices and how fortunate I’ve been. But I never considered losing one of my senses and what fate or Mother Nature intervention can be. Gratitude is the new emotion in my life. It has replaced stress and hurrying and anxiety. I don’t think I paused regularly to ponder the moon. Payroll maybe.

Carpe diem.

When you’re retired a Monday is great. You realize happily on Sunday that you aren’t going to work. The weekend never ends. It’s great!

This past weekend we had visitors for the Wasaga Blues Festival. The weather didn’t cooperate for an outdoor music event. But it didn’t really matter. Our dear friends showed up loaded for bear!! Their car rolled in packed to the hilt with culinary goodies and happy campers.

Happy positive people are my kind of tribe. They unloaded their gear and immediately started to mix martinis and create a charcuterie board. They bustled in the kitchen and buzzed onto the deck. Lots of good vibes and chatter.

But the very best thing was a phone call from Rita’s daughter. The test results showed no sign of cancer. No spread. No trace. The disease was gone. What better way to start a weekend to celebrate friendship? I can’t think of any.

Make mine a double. Let’s cheer to that.

Here’s the thing that gave me pause at the end of the weekend. You know how you review and replay the weekends vignettes in your mind … analyzing bits and pieces. Three beautiful women came to chill. They are beautiful inside and out; professional and funny and kind and gorgeous. They are all single!! What gives??

We discussed it some but there was no definitive theory. No rhyme. No reason. It makes me wonder: is there really a lid for every pot?

And then I had a thought. Had these lovelies had “the one” and nothing else compares? Or was love still on the horizon? I think that with so much love to give there is someone deserving that will step forward. The stars will align.

We watched the full moon over the weekend. It was a harvest moon; the kind songs are made of.

Another double please. Make it dirty.

After spending 5 days and 4 nights with my folks I’m grateful.

Grateful for the alone time driving and chatting with them. No distractions. It’s amazing and curious the random topics they come up with. It’s like their minds are a mix up of dates, names, morals, experiences, hopes and reality. The result is a conversation that’s hard to follow at times but a reel of your life rolled into a run on sentence.

Grateful for their mobility. Since starting an exercise program last year mom is considerably more mobile. Still unsteady and unsure of her steps she can motor quite nicely. Dad has been using the steps at their apartment so he’s still pretty good. They had to sleep on the second floor and they managed very well. We walked Molly in a different locale everyday and the adventures were fun.

Grateful for their appetites. I enjoy cooking and they enjoy eating. I’m convinced that when an elderly person loses their appetite that they are winding down. We discovered this with Rudy Sr. His appetite left and so did his spirit. My dad savours his meals and it’s a pleasure to watch him enjoy it.

Grateful for their serenity. They enjoy the simple things. A chat watching the sunrise. A coffee and snack. A game of cards. Quietly taking in the sounds of the waves. There’s no mad rush for a new adventure or activity. Life is slow and peaceful. I asked dad if he would polish the silverware and I gave him the tools to do it. He did a few pieces and said he would take it home. He didn’t want to spend his visiting time on something he could do anytime.

Grateful for their togetherness. It’s simply astonishing how they’ve become one person. They have managed to maximize their strengths and diminish each others shortcomings. They are two halves of a whole. Dad is so watchful and aware of mom’s physical well-being and mom is the foreman. Dad has to complete most of the tasks while mom dictates the plan. Moms cognitive functions are not intact at all times. There are spells. They work around it. The dynamic is inspiring. It’s easy to see how longtime couples cease to function when one half isn’t there anymore.

Grateful for their independence. While wonderful to spend time it’s also a blessing they live independently on their own. Everyone needs space. There’s no doubt we would make an adjustment if required. But they are just fine on their own. Two halves making it work. Yin and yang. Peas in a pod.

As we drive home dad proclaims that he’s going to drive himself at thanksgiving when we rendezvous again. He thinks me driving back and forth is nuts. Hmmmm. Okay. I agree out loud while thinking “no way” to myself. He’s adamant at the moment so I go with the flow. Back in Stratford I take mom to her appointment. It requires a follow up in 4 weeks. We book it for the Friday morning of the thanksgiving weekend. Mom says to me: you’re dad won’t like it. Why? I say. She says, coyly, “I know what you’re doing”. Yup. Just doing my thing.

When dad asks how the doctor visit went mom says fine. I tell dad there’s a follow up and I will be back. Mom has forgotten when it is.

I’m grateful for that.

I’m looking forward to hosting my folks at our house this weekend. Like for anything I’m planning, I try to visualize. I used to do this a lot more when I was working. I would visualize a meeting for example: participants arriving and having a refreshment, being greeted by me (what would I be wearing?), welcome and introductions, the agenda, breaks, lunch, discussions etc etc. I could run through the entire meeting in fast forward speed and use the visual to create the check list (another thing I rely on daily).

But meetings and trips and interviews are a piece of cake compared to dealing with my folks for several days in a strange (to them) environment. I keep hearing my mother-in-law tell me to go with the flow but I see so many pitfalls in my visualization that I try to shut it off. The thing is, I’ve seen my dad in action. His brain is 18 years old. His physical ability is 87. He wants to do things and he’s stubborn. So do I become the shrieking nagging helicopter minder or just let things unfold and hope that his own inner voice of reason kicks in.

Let’s start with the drive to get to our place. It’s about a 2 hour jaunt on secondary highways (single lanes) that zigzags cross country. My dad wants to drive himself. A few years ago (the last time they came) it took them hours longer than necessary because dad decided to take the coastal route. Mom is not a good traveller so by the time they arrived dad was pooped and frustrated and mom was frazzled. I offered to pick them up. After discussions (serious negotiations with my stubborn dad) we agree that I will pick up mom and dad will follow in his car. Whew.

I’m going to use veer off topic …

on my daily call this week with dad he tells me that he got a phone call from a doctor telling him his surgery is in September. He has no surgery set for September. But he does have a second cataract operation on the horizon for next year. He’s frustrated with the delay and my sister was looking into why it was so long between the second eye; she was going to find a possible shorter avenue in another region. This possibility excited dad and has (clearly) lodged in his CPU. So when he got the call he didn’t get the basic info such as name of the doctor (or anything helpful details) he simply hung up knowing he would ask me later. So I phoned all the possible doctors on their list. Nada. No surgery; no calls – a total mystery. Ok. Digression complete.

Once they arrive at our place they have to use stairs. Our bedrooms are 2nd level. Dad assures me that one flight is no problem and he refuses to even consider the main floor pullout. Ok no problem; second floor it is. There are three bathrooms on the second floor. Two are en-suites with walk-in showers. One is in our room so that’s not happening for my dad. He needs a private washroom. The other one is Ottos litter box. Problematic. The third has a tub/shower combo and that’s a nonstarter. Climbing into a tub to shower with no handrails is not happening. I think the solution is the main floor bathroom. It has s nice walk-in shower with a bench inside (it’s also a steam sauna). But dad will decide. If we have to juggle cat litter so be it.

What I’m hoping is that dad will be reasonable. He mostly is but sometimes he overreaches or is impatient. My sister can write a book about travelling with them. Some of the stories are hilarious but others are downright frightening. I’m hopeful that she can pop in this weekend. Frank takes it all in stride; his favourite phrase is “gong!”

It will be interesting….. stay tuned.