Wolf

     As a girl who grew up in the suburbs, moving to the country with my husband took a bit of getting used to. Coyotes howling, hunters shooting and rodents running around were not aspects of life that I was familiar with. I made our first years together miserable at times by worrying about every strange car in the driveway; I did not feel safe, especially when my husband was not around. Over the years then we had a number of larger dogs that we had good lives with--- dogs are a natural country door bell. They let you know that someone is around and they let the visitor know that they know!
     Our biggest and most ferocious looking dog was Wolf. As a Belgian Shepherd he was completely black except for several white hairs on his chest and lately, a grey chin. His bark was a low, loud rumble that let coyotes know that they were not welcome on our property. He was also the sweetest and most likable of dogs; to know him was to love him. Wolf was afraid of loud noises and hated lawn mowers, weed whippers and leaf blowers. He did love the sound of a police motorcycle though and once led me up our street to a "Cops for Cancer" event at a local preschool purely based on what his ears had heard.
     For many years my husband took him to work in his truck. It was wonderful to see Wolf's large black head sticking out of the window, taking in the sounds and scents. He loved to go for car rides with anyone though and would sometimes be brought home by some kind person who had just stopped their car on our street and found Wolf ready to jump in with them.
     Wolf's only fault was being a runaway. He had a habit of going places, usually on his own. However he once led our other dog across a very busy street to a spot blocks and blocks away. He also crossed the border a couple of times and made folks believe that he was a sniffer dog, albeit without a handler. He liked to be on the move.
     Towards the end though, Wolf stopped moving, drinking or eating. Today he came to the close of his many years on earth, about 14 of them we think. As he was in life, he was patient, loyal and loving. He will never be forgotten and will be sorely missed by all of us....

Thanks

     An English cousin whom I had never met before recently completed an across Canada trip in six weeks ending up on the West Coast. We had the pleasure of his company for a few days and I realized how much I regretted not spending more time in England. All my relatives with the exception of my immediate family live there and I see them almost never. It is the fate of most immigrants I suspect and one that makes me sad. However I do have the blessing of much family here: parents, siblings and their children and their children too now. And not to be taken for granted is the blessing of my husband's family, now my family too: many siblings with many children and their many children too....
     Of course there are no Thanksgiving dinners served in Britain and that is too bad. Turkey dinner is my very favourite meal accompanied of course by very un-British cranberry sauce (the more the better) and whatever else may be served as long as there is gravy (again, the more the better). And while this post seems to be about food, it really isn't.
     It is in fact about what I am grateful for and though the list seems short it is wide. I am thankful for family, health, the freedom to vote and worship and travel where we want...life is good here.  And while my English cousin has a great life in his home country I think we have it even better here. I am not talking about turkey dinner now but the beauty and abundance of our nation; the sheer size of it, the diversity of its people and its various landscapes defy description, at least by me. When my parents left England over 60 years ago, I am sure they did not know what lay ahead of them except perhaps something more. And that something more is exactly what I am so thankful for today.

"Calm, Cushion, Call" Part 2

"Calm, Cushion, Call" Part 1

     An athlete at one of the Special Olympic sports our eldest participates in had a seizure tonight. It was short and apparently not unusual. The circumstances of this person's health issue is quite different from our daughter's; this athlete has non-epileptic seizures brought on by a cardiac condition. The result however is the same. Like any seizure, some degree of first-aid knowledge was needed, care had to be taken, play need to be temporarily diverted and timing had to happen. And like a well-oiled machine, the Special Olympics coaching staff took care of it. Everyone had a role to play and they played it. I ended up attending as well just because I was close by. My experience with our daughter's epilepsy has left me aware of how seizures can affect those around them. I really was not needed but I stayed close, if only to witness the superb organization of the coaching staff and to learn yet again that seizures are common, even non-epileptic ones, if we pay attention.
     The most important piece though is knowing what to do if someone is having a seizure. London bus driver Vic Hamilton is part of the "Calm, cushion and call" campaign currently running in the U.K. If you can remember nothing else these three C's will help you to take care of someone who is having a seizure:
1. Stay CALM and you will be helpful.
2. CUSHION the person's head to keep them safe.
3. For any seizure over five minutes, CALL 9-1-1.
Thank you!

Theatre

     Live theatre can be an amazing experience. The right play with talented actors and a gifted director can be life changing. This was the case when I saw "Our Town" the other night, presented in the new Black Box Theatre of Peninsula Productions. A simple stage, a few props, an intimate venue, wise words: it was magical.
     "Our Town" is a classic play about a few lives over different periods of time in the town of Grover's Corners, New Hampshire. And although the play was set over a hundred years ago in an American town, its message is timeless. Do any of us recognize the value of our lives and the people in it every day? Do we always take a breath and see others, really see them and feel their import in our world? The simple truths of Thornton Wilder's beautiful play are even truer now than they were then. Do any of us take the time to really look around us and appreciate the ordinary days? And there are other elements too: love, family, community and of course grief. When the Stage Manager is asked if anyone ever recognizes the value of life while living they reply "No. The saints and poets, maybe--- they do some."
     I am always amazed by how affecting live theatre can be but this was a special night that I will never forget. Wilder's play and the performance of these incredible actors made me laugh and cry. I highly recommend you see it. And meanwhile, please take time to smell the heliotrope....

Camp 2

     For several years our eldest daughter has had the privilege of attending Zajac Ranch for Children. For those of you who don't know, it is an amazing place where kids of any age, with any disability or any medical issue are cared for and welcome. Having a daughter with epilepsy has been stressful but we have never worried about her at Zajac Ranch. In fact it was one of the few places where our daughter could be without us and we would feel confident. The camp counsellors, the nursing and administrative staff are all so in tune with children who need extra care. And while there the kids can swim, kayak, climb high ropes, ride horses, do crafts and archery, sing, dance and just be kids at camp. What a special place!
     We have been extra blessed by having the kind folks at The Center for Epilepsy and Seizure Education in B.C. help with our daughter's camp fees. Not only have these nice people given us encouragement to participate in Purple Day events, giving us seizure information brochures and other educational items to hand out but they have made it financially possible for our daughter to attend camp. We are so appreciative!
    As you can imagine there are not many benefits to having epilepsy but getting to know the generous people at Zajac Ranch and ESEBC are definite advantages. They are caring, compassionate folks who love children and want to see disabled kids have all the fun that typical kids do. They now have opened the camp to young adults with disabilities. And so our daughter arrived home today, tired but happy and full of stories of all the fun she had and the new people she met this week. It is a gift that she will carry with her always: happy memories of summer camp.... Thank you!

Photo Credit: Camp Zajac

Pray

     Religion and politics, two of the three topics we don't discuss because things will get heated or awkward or both and then what? However I would like to tell you that I am a big believer in the power of prayer. Of course prayer is different things to different people. Depending on your religion it can mean meditation, contemplation, supplication or hymns. There is empirical evidence which shows that a positive attitude, an uplifted focus on what you want, a release of that desire into the universe is more likely to be realised than a negative, unspoken or hidden one. Prayer can assist with mental and physical health as well. Clay Routledge wrote at length about this topic in the National Review published in April of last year.
     Part of the reason I believe in prayer is that my most fervent prayers have been answered. From the times when I was in trouble as a teenager to anaphylaxis and near death as a young adult, to the times I grieved multiple miscarriages and then for my daughters to be born and in good health my prayers have been granted. Since then for almost two decades I have daily prayed for the health and safety of our daughters, one of whom has epilepsy but who is now about two and a half years seizure free. My prayers for them and others have not stopped and probably never will. Prayer increases a sense of hope in my life and hope is a substance in short supply some days.
     Don't get me wrong, not all my prayers have been answered. All I know is that the big ones have been. And for that I am truly and perpetually grateful. And that is the other reason I pray: to express thanks for all the blessings in my life which have been so many!

"Prayer is, at root, simply paying attention to God." Dr. Ralph Martin

https://www.nationalreview.com/2018/04/what-prayer-is-good-for-and-the-evidence-for-it/

Drive

    Every once in a while I am ashamed of my species. Actually that happens quite often but that's a rant for another day. One of our daughters is learning to drive which means that my husband and I are being driven around our neighbourhood as often as possible by a new but enthusiastic and careful driver. I am saddened to report the number of times that she has been tailgated and/or sworn at for doing the speed limit. We have an L on our car which means that a learning driver is operating the vehicle. We live in a rural area which is close to a busy suburb but relatively quiet. The speed limit is 60 km per hour and she is going 60 or slightly over. Did I mention that we have an L on our car? I am shocked that people would take the time to pull around the vehicle, roll down the window and yell "F#&k you!" to a teenager while she is attempting this new, difficult and potentially dangerous task. I really am appalled.
    The driving courtesy that we experienced in places like Australia and Scotland was so exceptional. My husband felt like a new driver, driving an unfamiliar car on new roads, on the opposite side of the street in the seemingly wrong side of the car. But people were kind, courteous and patient, no matter how many times that we went around the roundabout. Why does it seem as if Canadian drivers are getting ruder and more impatient? Maybe our city is getting more crowded and our roads busier. Or perhaps I am just getting to be an old lady, one embarrassed by human beings who are giving the rest of us a bad name....

Confidence

     One of the regrets I have is that we did not know about Special Olympics or Challenger Baseball until our daughter was well into high school. These programs have been such a boost to our daughter's well-being: improved motor skills, fresh air and exercise, expanded social circles and the confidence acquired by learning to play sports such as baseball and basketball. I had no idea that the Special Olympics program included such a wide variety of sports and that they welcomed athletes of such varying abilities. These include bowling, swimming, gymnastics and power lifting to name just a few. The only prerequisite is a desire to play and a disability, whatever that may be. The wide age range of athletes in both programs allows my daughter to be friends with people older and younger than herself. She has the opportunity to improve her skills in a safe and caring environment without judgement. For example, seizures are common amongst athletes in both these programs and are handled with care for the health and dignity of the person.
     Volunteers make these programs what they are. The coaches are usually parents and these dads and mums are incredible. They give generously of their time and talents to encourage, teach and foster respect amongst all the athletes and coaches. The young people who volunteer in these programs are sometimes siblings of the various team-mates, sometimes not, and they too are amazing. They also give of their time and energy to assist either on an individual basis or as team helpers. This experience also adds to their skill set and looks great on their resume. And they have fun. We all have fun!
     I regret not knowing about these wonderful programs for kids with intellectual and/or physical disabilities sooner. As a parent I am hugely grateful for them and know that our daughter's life has been immeasurably positively impacted by them. Thank you all!

Move

     It's a chilly, cold night tonight and the yip-yipping of the coyotes, the smell and orange glow of the fire pit and the jewel-like sparkle of a million stars overhead belie the fact that I am in my own back yard. Ten minutes away is downtown White Rock. Not a bustling metropolis by any means but a nice place to live with beaches, fish and chip shops, parks and beautiful places to walk.
     Our property is a disorganized sprawl of five acres with giant evergreens and sporadic beds of our favourite perennials. Our home was once a barn and it's an interesting octagonal building of three stories with a salmon stream running out back and a couple of well-used ponds. Ducks love this spot. We have built raised beds for vegetables and we have our very own orchard with cherry and apple trees out front. Our taxes are kept down by raising chickens and selling their eggs. We have lived here for over fifteen years and they have been happy ones. Our children have played here, ridden horses here and had some wonderful birthday parties here. More recently our eldest ran her own sunflower stand all summer long. And my carpenter husband's love of wood in all it's many forms is here for all to see. Yes, there is wood everywhere. Everywhere.
     As much as we love this place, we might be looking at making a move. Our girls are at the age when it is important to develop some independence. Out here in the country there are no buses running and that can be isolating. Of course there's Mama's Taxi but that doesn't run always. Anyway, we are ready to see which way the wind blows: happy to stay, happy to go....either way, we'll make it work.

Legacy

      Almost six months after their beloved son was killed, his parents were successful in their pledge to change the intersection where the accident occurred. The vote by the Council of Government in San Luis Obispo was unanimous! For the most difficult six months of this family's life, they have worked tirelessly, endlessly, courageously to make sure that another son or daughter did not die where their cherished child died. This involved untold hours of flights back and forth, meetings, petitions, posts, phone calls and letters, with broken hearts and nights unslept, to try to fix an intersection in another state, fifteen hundred miles away. The passion and energy this must have taken cannot be imagined, at least by me. At a time when most people would want to stay in the safety of their homes mourning their loss, this family was out there making sure their voices were heard, that their son was remembered. I am in awe of them. Most people could not rouse the strength let alone the courage that this undertaking would require. But this is their son's legacy: love for family, for friends, for community, for humanity. Jordan's legacy is love.

Today is Purple Day!

Joy

     Spring cleaning is what they call it, when you go through every drawer, every cupboard, every shelf. What precipitated this was my coming across a program on Netflix called  "Tidying Up with Marie Kondo". Tidying up is nowhere near what happens on this show. People who have let their stuff get the better of them end up piling all their clothes on their bed and picking up each item of clothing and asking themselves the question: "Does it spark joy?" If "yes", then it is kept, if the answer is "no", then it is thanked for its service and recycled. And that is just their clothing. Similar actions happen to all their possessions until order is restored.
     I did something like that while my husband and daughter were away. And everywhere I went I found photos of our nephew who was killed last Thanksgiving. In piles of paper to be filed, in packages of photos to be organized, in cards and letters read but not put away, in drawers and behind magnets he was there, a testament to the faithfulness of his mother who mailed these photos of their son and daughter every time a new one was taken. They usually spent time on our fridge until a replacement arrived. These pictures were mailed from across the country with a parent's pride and with love to all of us who know them well, who call them family.
     Finding these photos was particularly poignant as our nephew would have just celebrated his nineteenth birthday this month. The actual day was marked by a birthday party at his graveside complete with red and black balloons with notes written on them, released to the heavens. There were tears, laughter and singing: "...Happy Birthday dear Jordan....".  It is a testament to the generosity of his family that they have worked tirelessly to close the intersection, that is in another state over fifteen hundred miles away, where their son was killed. It is a testament to their faithfulness that they continue to celebrate their boy, honouring him and his life by making new memories and remembering him with joy.

Two

    

     Now that our daughter is officially over two years seizure free, we settle into a more relaxed routine, epilepsy wise anyway. I know that there are no guarantees in life; the death of our beloved nephew last fall has bitterly reminded us all of that. I suppose that she could have a seizure tomorrow. The brain is unknowable in so many ways. Marcelo Gleiser recently wrote, "The fact that the workings of the brain remain mysterious is not due to some immaterial entity but to our own difficulty of understanding its complexity." 

     An interesting development in our daughter's diagnosis is that through genetic testing she was found to have a genetic mutation in her GABA (gamma-amino butyric acid) signalling, which is the principal inhibitory mechanism in the central nervous system. This mutation is more commonly found in childhood epilepsy which gives us reason to hope that our daughter has grown out of her epileptic seizures. Her father and I are undergoing the same testing to see if we have any similar differences.

     We are typical I guess in our need to have answers to the question "why". Nothing is changed by having this knowledge but I do believe that information is power and can help us claim some degree of control in a seemingly uncontrollable situation. Surprisingly, some of the advances made in science make us more aware of what we don't know. Maybe that's what keeps it all so exciting!?

     Anyway our daughter's smile says it all: two years without injury, fear, trips to the hospital by ambulance; two years without headaches, bruises, embarrassment. Instead: two years of hope, independence, confidence, growth and of course, grief; two years of living.

Proud

     I am so proud of the steps our daughter has taken towards independence this past year. As she is a young adult with epilepsy and Non-verbal Learning Disorder, I think that they are note-worthy particularly as they all occurred in a relatively short span of time. Here's what I've seen:
- Becoming seizure free. Our prayers were answered or our daughter outgrew her epilepsy or the medications started to work but none of that would be possible without our daughter looking after herself, taking her meds, getting lots of sleep, eating right and staying away from drugs and alcohol.
- Finding her passion. Our daughter tried hard in her over-year to work out what she wanted to do with her time. Figuring that out is not easy, ask any young person, typical or not. It can be a struggle. For her it seemed to be a result of letting herself be open to possibilities.
- Following through. Once she realized that she wanted to work with plants and flowers, she worked hard in our garden to sow, weed and water an amazing array of sunflowers that blew a lot of us away. They were astonishing! The sun, rich soil and lots of water did their share too of course but the results were incredible.
- More follow through. As many folks know it is difficult for disabled people to find work. A partnership with WorkBC helped her immensely. With their assistance with resume, job hunting and interview skills she was able to find the perfect employment. The greenhouse that she works at is friendly, inclusive, encouraging, right around the corner and she loves it!
- Looking around. While we were in a big box store, I was glad to see that our daughter had found the product she wanted, navigated through the aisles, got in line and paid for it herself, without my input, direction or support while I stood in a seemingly interminable lineup in Customer Service (a contradiction in terms if ever there was one). In an environment that can be overwhelming for her, I was thoroughly impressed.
- Leaning in. I noticed our daughter giving a hug and some words of encouragement to a fellow Special Olympics team member whose dad had died two days before Christmas. I was proud to see her as a positive role model to other disabled athletes, prouder still as a mother to witness her empathy and compassion, qualities that do not always come easy.
     More than anything, I have seen our daughter become more mature, more willing to try and to learn, more open to change and the possibilities that change presents. She has always been my hero but now I also see her as an adult person, admirable and able. Doors are opening and she is saying yes!