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.