Just a thought… Happiness, not in another place but this place…not for another hour, but this hour. [Walt Whitman]
Typing this as I sit at the side of a neighbourhood diamond in Nepean near Ottawa…the music’s playing, the coffee in my traveller mug is cooling in the gentle noonday air, and kids are out having fun, running, catching, playing. A perfect spring day.
In the distance, a cardinal chee-chee-chees, perched high enough in a tree not to be seen, but definitely to be heard and appreciated by someone who doesn’t experience them in BC. That’s okay, though; since we’ve been here my phone has been pinging with sightings back home of orcas, gray and humpback whales near our cabin.
The job is to be here now, in the arms of family and taking in the moments that can only happen once. Playing on the swings with my granddaughter. Cheering both Colin and Jane at their respective baseball games. Spending time watching the Jays, while wishing we had a team worth watching together in the Stanley Cup.
So on we go. We play ourselves out with our beloved not-so-little ones – 11 and 6 – here in Ottawa, take in all the games we can, put together Jane’s new bicycle and hope to have ALL the fun.
Rob and I have both pledged to let the happiness of seeing the kids and their folks outshine the sadness that this part of the country and the inevitable memories also bring. As always, we make the most of what we’ve got, while we’ve got it. I know Lauren would want it this way, and she’d be so proud of Colin, his sister Jane, and their folks. ‘Cause that is what this is all about.
We took advantage of a short drive with Colin yesterday to cram in some “grandparent-flavoured” wisdom. (And contrary to what that might imply, no it is not Werthers and Nicorette!)
Lately, Colin’s been experiencing what I went through at his age, and that is some bullying. While it’s not my story to tell, 63-year-old me has learned some life lessons that I truly wish I had known at his age. More importantly, I would hope I’d have been smart enough to take them in and hold on.
During our brief commute to pick up dinner, I said to Colin that I missed telling him things, but that I had something I really needed him to hear. I said, “Do you want to know the secret of life?” and of course he repeated the question, and then said yes. I told him, “Man cannot control what happens to him. The only freedom we have is to choose how we respond.” Then I repeated my paraphrased words of Viktor Frankl again, and Rob gave him some examples of what we meant.
By the time we arrived at our destination, and then again on the drive back home, we had him reciting it to us. I told him that we could have died when the worst thing that could happen to a person befell us. But instead we chose to be grateful: that our daughter left us him, a beautiful son, and that he would get a wonderful sister whom we would love just as much. We choose to say, “Wow, aren’t we lucky we have Colin and Jane! ” instead of simply giving up and not wanting to live anymore.
We can hope that the lanky boy with long hair and big, baseball-filled dreams took in those words. We’ll make sure we say them together again a few times this week. After all, I have never forgotten my grandmother’s words: “Love Many, Trust Few, and Always Paddle Your Own Canoe.” That, and “Don’t marry a man with a cleft in his chin.” I didn’t, but the one guy I did date with one turned out to be a total scoundrel. Well played, Grama!
Full moons, glorious sunsets and worn-out kids (and their parents and grandparents) are what have filled our visit thus far. As Rob’s shirt says in the picture, Life IS Good. Talk to you Thursday on Gracefully and Frankly and I’m not kidding when I tell you that you have to listen.
There was drama at home before we left that I’ll be telling you about on the podcast, and it has to do with our sweet Livi. I will just let you know that our flabbers were ALL ghasted, and our both our gobs were smacked, Rob’s and mine. DO NOT miss Episode 179. It’s a half-hour long, it’s free and it’s worth every penny LOL.