The next time I see you

The 2012 new year brought with it hope and opportunities.  It also delivered an unexpected sorrow.

I was wondering why I could not reach a dear older lady friend by telephone before and during the Christmas holidays.  I knew she would leave her tiny downtown apartment during the day to get in some exercise, fresh air and visit a local women's centre.  Due to family, work and volunteer obligations, I forgot to call during the times when I knew she would, she should be home.  

Communication options were limited.  She did not have email or an Internet service.  My friend was from a different time.  She did not have a cell phone (as far as I know) nor did she have an answering service on her home land line.  When I remembered to call her during the Christmas holidays, the phone would just ring and ring…  Maybe she was out, I thought.  Maybe she was visiting family.  Various obligations pulled at my attention once again.

It was through a shared friend's Facebook direct message weeks ago that I learned she had recently passed away.  A wave of sadness washed over me.  I could not concentrate. I paused during the day to recall our first encounter through a volunteer organization almost 25 years ago, how we would meet on a weekly basis.  She was a hard working immigrant who needed help with reading and writing. I also helped her study for her citizenship test - mostly by illustrations and memorization.  She was successful.  

We lost touch during the years I was married, helping to raise a young family and working full time.

The last time we got in a visit was when I took my sweet lady friend out for a birthday dinner in the heat of last summer.  I remember her sitting in the cool restaurant, wearing a lovely hat and smiling as she squinted to read the card I gave her.  I also gifted her with a printed copy of my novel and hoped secretly that she would be able to read it.  I refrained from asking if she had continued with her literacy tutoring.   It just didn't seem like the time or place to ask.

 

I remember her giggles when the Restaurant Joy staff brought out a small serving of deep-fried banana with a single birthday candle planted in it.  She sat in gracious silence while we sang Happy Birthday in her honour. She was still coy about revealing her age. 

Similar to our outing last December but at an opposite weather extreme, our walks were slow.  I carried her tote bag.  I paced my steps to hers as she shuffled down the middle of the sidewalk, avoiding the risk of falling off the curb.  I paused when she paused to say hello to acquaintances on the street.  We visited Tim Horton's to enjoy their air conditioned setting, to chat over a refreshing drink.

The last time we connected on the phone was in the autumn, around Thanksgiving.  During our last telephone conversation, I suggested she think of a place where she would like to go for lunch or dinner for our next outing.  Planning for these outings was a chore because I had to perform research, to call places ahead of time confirming if they were accessible.  Aside:  I wish more art galleries, community centres and restaurants would post this very important requirement on their web sites!  During our last conversation and as usual, I asked how she was feeling.  I knew she had some health concerns and difficulty getting around but I did not know she was concealing the fact that her aging body was being consumed by Cancer. 

Last weekend, I took two busses downtown to attend one of the visitations at the funeral home.  I delivered my card of condolences.  I obtained a memorial card with her photograph on the cover and a prayer inside. There was no shortage of attendees from her women's centre and the various churches she frequented. 

I found a seat near the front of the room, close enough to the open casket containing my friend's mortal body.  I could not bring myself to approach the front.  This was not how I wanted to remember her.  The floodgates opened.  I cried and cried.  I retreated to the ladies room.  My energy was sapped.  I pulled myself together long enough to talk with her family members and a pastor then ... made a quiet exit.

Recalling again our last phone conversation during which we exchanged our interest in each other's lives and learning what was new.  She acknowledged my busy schedule and was understanding of the challenges of taking public transit downtown on weekends from my family's new home.  She extended her greetings for my children, to give them a hug and to "Tell them I love them."  

My friend is traveling back to her country of origin to a final burial place.  I will never see her again except for the photographs in my albums and the lovely photograph on her memorial card. 

I will miss her sweet voice, her smiling face and positive outlook on life.  

I miss my friend. 

What do Cats Think About?

So… I'm taking a break from some serious reading and mundane domestic matters.  


One of my children asked the other day as we observed the resident felines, "Do you think cats think and know that we know that they are thinking."  Or something along that line… It was early.


My groggy response was, "I don't know."


I won't get too deep into wasting time and pixels on my own research but I suspect that our cats plan and scheme. Snuggles often wanders around the apartment, back and forth between rooms and gives out a pathetic whine until he settles on a place to nap.  We have documented, video proof that Geneva isn't all that bright at times.  That was shortly after I documented her ability to plan.  One could say that I was projecting >^..^<  and creatively distracted. 

Other humans have asked the question if cats think so I'm going to save time by linking to their blog postings here and here.  Whether they are truly scientific, I don't know.  It's fun to read comments from their followers.   Then there are copious books on the subject.   One of my cat writer lady friends partnered with her furry business partner from many years ago on a publication cleverly titled "Mewsings/Musings".

What was interesting that curious morning was that they were just sitting quietly, as if they were waiting... Either that or they were meditating.  I suspect they were waiting for me to leave for my afternoon meeting.  


When I returned home in the early evening and flicked on the light in my room, I noticed some furry lumps on my bed.  

Ah, yes.  The loveable, annoying male had also made himself a nest right near my pillows.  It's kind of cute how he does that.  Good thing I'm not allergic to cat fur.  

Too bad I had to relocate him when I finally prepared myself for bed and curled up for a winter's night sleep.  Since I had forgotten to secure the door shut, he was back in the early hours, prodding me to get up and serve breakfast.  


Mornings could start in a much worse way.  I give my thanks for these >^..^<  small annoyances.


- - - 


Thank you for reading this far.  If you like my writing style, you may enjoy reading The Year of the Rabbit, a novel about fate, family and forgiveness.  Sample some excerpts and enjoy feedback from people who read the earlier print version.  Download a free sample of the ebook from Smashwords.  No trees were harmed ;o)

What is Time...

New Year's Eve is upon us.  It's still morning in Ottawa yet some places in our wonderful world are already celebrating 2012's arrival.


One part of me appreciates the human need to measure and track things like distance, space and time in set increments.  I can also appreciate and respect the measurement of time in natural cycles.  

Years ago, I came across in interesting quote about time by a lady named Sarah Ban Breathnach:  


"Chronos is clocks, deadlines, watches, calendars, agendas, planners, schedules, beepers. Chronos is time at her worst. Chronos keeps track. ...Chronos is the world's time. Kairos is transcendence, infinity, reverence, joy, passion, love, the Sacred. Kairos is intimacy with the Real. Kairos is time at her best. ...Kairos is Spirit's time. We exist in chronos. We long for kairos. That's our duality. Chronos requires speed so that it won't be wasted. Kairos requires space so that it might be savored. We do in chronos. In kairos we're allowed to be ... It takes only a moment to cross over from chronos into kairos, but it does take a moment. All that kairos asks is our willingness to stop running long enough to hear the music of the spheres."  


Deep and far out. Sarah is the author of a book called "The Simple Abundance Daybook" and has a web site: www.simpleabundance.com  


Once again and since I don't function well in large, noisy crowds, I will be ringing in the new year at home with family and felines.  We will celebrate with music, colourful Christmas lights, tasty treats and a bottle of Ice Cuvée VQA.  


I will let my structured and creative sides merge long enough to explore New Year mandalas. I'm willing to try just about anything once.  


Another celebration will be upon us in less than a month.  The quiet, creative and brave Year of the Rabbit will make way for the Water Dragon.  With the Year of the Rabbit novel behind me, I look forward to exploring new projects and realms in 2012 and beyond.


Wishing a Happy, Healthy New Year to family, friends and kindred spirits.  


One problem is... I may not be able to help finish that bottle of bubbly for very long after midnight.  We may have to open it sooner.  Besides, it's already New Years somewhere in the world ;o) 

T

Tis the Season

Yes, giftmas is upon us.  


Family and friends gather to share in good cheer, attempting to brighten up the long, dark winter days.  Some exchange gifts during their visits.  I think wine and chocolate are the safest and most-popular.  


People are scrambling for deals in the retail stores or online.  Good-hearted individuals and groups are making efforts to ensure the less-fortunate will have a good Christmas.  I am sure that we all feel for the children and adults who are struggling financially and emotionally this time of year - and beyond.  


As a single parent, I agree.  


Soon I will have to venture out into the malls to pick up a few items requested by my offspring.  One has a birthday just after Christmas and convinced me that only one present will bring happiness although it happens to be one of those expensive electronic distractions.  Since this child is working on a masters degree (insert gush of pride here), I will bite my tongue and strive to accommodate that request.  


We tried the pared-down gifting approach a couple of years ago.  I don't think it went over well. Now that we are in smaller living quarters, they are not impressed that we do not have room for our artificial tree. We'll work something out to decorate this petit apartment with festive colour and cheer.  It will be the first Christmas here and hard to measure up to our previous, spacious abode.  Even the cats  >^..^<  agree that there isn't as much room here to roam, lurk and express their own creativity. 


And lets not forget the significance of this time of celebration.  The gifting represents the gifts of the Magi who were delayed in arriving at the stable.  Their only GPS reference was the bright, guiding star.  They also didn't stop to ask for directions.  (pause for feminist quips)


The birth of the child represents hope for a troubled empire.  If one were to wax poetic and philosophical, the birth can represent a rebirth within ourselves to see our world again as one full of hope and joy, putting aside resentments and conflicts.  This is why we make those silly New Year's resolutions. Kudos to those who want to quit smoking and other vices.  Respects to those who want to conquer harmful habits and thoughts. 


We are an interesting mix of individuals but with some effort and collaboration, we can be unified in our goal to cure humanity of its ailments.  Two of the worst are fear and greed.  Hopefully the occupy movement and efforts by a few super-rich individuals helped give some consciences a stir.  Although some people can be shamed into change by positive peer pressure, I think the actions have to be fully their own choice.  Else, there will be a lingering resentment.  


It puzzles my pretty blonde head how people who have so much don't want to part with just a bit that would improve the lives of many others.  I challenge fortune and welcome the opportunity to be put in that position :o)  


In my novel, The Year of the Rabbit, the birth of a child also represented hope and joy.  Although baby Harry was the product of a shameful teen pregnancy, his arrival brought joy into many people's lives - especially that of lonely, young Sera.  


Coming full circle with the gifting theme, I will end this post with a discount offer for those who wish to purchase the Ebook version of The Year of the Rabbit, A Novel about Fate, Family and Forgiveness.  If you ventured out or online to purchase an EReader for a loved one, why not add this bittersweet tale to the list of books too? It's available in many supported formats. While considering, scroll down my Smashwords ebook page to watch a funny video of Geneva Tabby cat, my meuws, inspiration and distraction.  


If you have gathered any wisdom from this pensive post, it's that the world needs more love, compassion and... funny cat videos.  If you are not YET convinced about the novel, check out the comments from readers of the first print edition.   


Thanks for dropping by.  Next time, bring wine or chocolate :o) 


T