Erin's Journals

Just a thought… Memories warm you up from the inside. [Haruki Murakami]

Ah, Halloween: it brings us so many great recollections, but I remember most clearly (perhaps with a shudder) the year we almost didn’t have one!

We were living in England on a military base and the holiday just wasn’t a thing there; we heard we would have to wait a few days for fireworks on Guy Fawkes Day, which sounded intriguing in its way, but was missing one very important five-letter word: CANDY. (Or sweets, as they were called there.)

So, what did we long-faced Canucks and Yanks do? Thankfully, parents came to the rescue: Canadian and American kids gathered for a daytime party at the local officers’ mess, where we had candy, games and fun. So often it’s the years things kind of went sideways that stand out.

I remember walking Lauren through the leafy, rain-soaked streets of Leaside as she excitedly gathered her bounty, all the while mumbling under my breath at the news/weather guy who had sworn up and down that it wasn’t going to rain! No sirree!

(Part of my chagrin was because, of course, we’d taken his word for it – he was also our weather guy – and promised parents the same and knew they were likely muttering our names under their breath, too.)

Here in Southern Ontario on the cusp of October and November, weather always seems to play a role in Halloween memories. No matter what creative costume idea we conjured up, it was going to have the words “in a parka” added to the description.

One year I decorated a box and cut head and arm holes. What did it end up being? A Die “in a parka.” (That was the year I borrowed one of my mom’s “good” pillow cases and, because it got wet in the rain, it ended up with a big black and blue stain from a jawbreaker.)

Another year when we were posted in Ottawa, I really leaned into the weather: I donned an actual Inuit parka and handmade mukluks dad had brought home from his time in the Arctic and was the warmest kid on Heron Road.

Continuing the tradition, Lauren dressed up as a bunny “in a parka,” a kitty cat “in a parka”…well, you get it. Anyone care for Mary Poppins (umbrella and all) “in a parka” tonight? ‘Cause it looks as though, where we are, we’re going to need it.

Oh, who really cares? Sure it’s great to see creativity at your doorstep, but for a child, what it all comes down to in the end is the haul.

Tonight we’ll trot along behind, trying to keep up with Toy Story‘s Woody (Colin), his baby sister and mom and dad, who will all be in costume too. Despite a heavy rainfall warning promising 30 to 50 mm of the wet (but thankfully not white) stuff between yesterday and tomorrow, we’re all taking our favourite little guy out trick-or-treating in an Ottawa suburb and Rob and I have promised to stay out longer with him if his parents and four-week-old sister decide to call it quits after a block or two.

As Rob put it, did any kid ever look out the window and say, “Nope – too wet to go out and get free candy.” Um…probably not. Rain, sleet or snow, why wouldn’t we go?

How often are we going to be given an opportunity like this? A child’s years are fast and fleeting; the chances of us timing a visit to coincide with this big night again are fairly slim. So we’re jumping on this like a kid on a full-sized candy bar. Whoo hoo!

We’ll be here in the National Capital area just having fun with this little family for the next few days, and then this Sunday spending a few hours talking with a small group gathering at Bereaved Families of Ontario in Oshawa.

For a bigger event, Tuesday night we’re welcoming you to come hear my ED Talk (as in Erin Davis LOL) called “Reclaiming Joy.” Details for that are here, and it’s for a wonderful cause.

I’ll remind you Monday, if that’s all right – and in the meantime, you have a terrific Halloween. I hope there are memories made or recalled…and that the first weekend of November is indeed a gentle one. Got your poppy yet?

Just a thought… Life is more meaningful when our goal is fulfillment rather than gratification. [Author unknown]

I can’t even express to you how full, how VERY full, Rob’s and my hearts are today. (See? They’re so full I’ve used that word three times in the first two sentences!)

To think of everything traumatic that has happened in the past four-and-a-half years – from losing Lauren, to saying good-bye to my favourite radio partner, then leaving almost every person we knew and loved in Ontario and starting a new life outside of my beloved medium of radio – I am awestruck at just how much meaning and fulfillment have come our way. And at no time have they been more evident than in the past five days.

I hadn’t planned to write a book; on the day that I said good-bye to our radio audience at Casa Loma, had that wonderful HarperCollins exec not been in the audience of CityLine, and had she not written and suggested it, I most certainly wouldn’t have laid out our lives for a litany of publishers to reject.

But as I stood before a full ballroom yesterday at the Marriott in Muskoka, for just a moment there was a beam of light that shone down on me from above and told me I was where I was meant to be at that moment. Just as a medium we met up with after Lauren died told us she was saying, “Mom, it’s not about you anymore – it’s about them.”

It’s about them. The mothers who cried in my arms on Thursday night in Arthur, Ontario after my keynote address “Reclaiming Joy.” It was a fundraiser for #GetintouchforHutch – started by a bereaved mom whose son died by suicide – and so far these good people have raised $300,000 (in a decade) to help others who suffer, and hopefully to help prevent more deaths by suicide by getting people to talk about mental health.

It’s about the families helped by The Lighthouse for Grieving Children in Oakville at a sold-out event for 300 on Wednesday night, simply by sharing the stories of survival of widows Lisa Lisson, CEO of FedEx Canada, and Melissa Gaston who, along with her children, has been helped by Lighthouse (where she met a fellow grieving parent, soon to become her husband). Such an incredible night! That’s Lisa on the left, then Melissa, and interviewer Saphia Khambalia of The Weather Network to my left. 

It’s about the patients at Markham Stouffville Hospital who came out for a mental health day Thursday and with whom I could safely share my story of depression, addiction and grief – but with hope.

It’s about the hundreds of Rotary International members (as Rob and I are) on Saturday in Muskoka who listened to the story of incredible strength, resilience and determination of Amanda Lindhout, who wrote the New York Times bestseller about her year-and-a-half as a hostage in Somalia ten years ago. (Her talk was as gripping and touching as the book, I promise you.)

And who then heard my presentation on Sunday.

And finally, it IS about us: Rob and me.

I don’t tell you about these events to shine a light on what we’ve done, but to show you just how much this whole evolution from bereaved to blessed has meant to us. To be able to take what happened with the loss of our sweet Lauren, and maybe – just maybe – to become able to offer others a little hope has been the second-greatest gift she has given us.

The first, of course, is Colin. And this week we’re on our way to Ottawa again to spend a glorious few days with our beloved boy and his beautiful baby sister and parents.

We count our blessings every day and choose to see the light instead of the darkness. And we haven’t done any of this, not one bit, alone.

Thank you for helping us to get to where we are today, to this place of hope and deepest fulfillment. I would give my life not to have experienced what brought us here, but since this is where we are, we are choosing to take in the view and be thankful.

Talk to you here on Thursday.

Just a thought… I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become. [Carl Gustav Jung]

Well hello again, Ontario! Seems as if we were just here – it’s like they could almost have left our rental car running while we hopped home and then returned.

I’m loving this fall weather, although the winds we experienced yesterday in Halton region are certain to have taken their toll on the leaves we’ll see as we head to Markham for a speech at noon and then on to Arthur for another gathering tonight.

(See the What’s Up section here for more information if you think you can join us and I’ll post pics on my public Facebook page as well as Twitter @erindavis and Instagram @erindawndavis if you care to check in.)

I realize that for the last few weeks here, this journal seems to have been me filling you in on one event after another, and if that’s your impression, I do apologize. This was always a place just to share what’s going on behind the scenes and in our lives and, of course, the fact that Rob and I are taking such a vastly different path than we expected has changed the trajectory of my writings.

Our relationship – yours and mine – never was and is never going to be about promotion or selling. It’s not that anyone has complained but I realize if people don’t want to click here and share some time a few days a week, they just won’t. Goodness knows there’s a lot to fill your day and attract your eyes and I don’t take for granted one minute that you spend here with me.

I can promise you this: in just less than two weeks, it all changes. We settle in for a gentle winter of enjoying each other’s company and just taking every day as it comes, instead of laying out clothes, planning speeches and making sure I get to the right place at the right time.

It just happens to be a bit of a tsunami of wonderful activity right now and I am truly grateful for every single bit of it.

So how are we doing, Rob and I? Great. A little sleep-deprived, thanks to a three-hour time difference and getting to bed yesterday at 3 am here, but glad that there’s no alcohol involved to mess up the body clocks further.

I’ll tell you that flying and not drinking is probably the hardest thing for me: I used to feel that there were no rules in the sky (don’t ask me why; perhaps the vacation mode that I so often associated travel with) and couple that with a feeling of melancholy that I’ve always gotten when I’m up there in a tin tube hurtling through the blue – don’t ask me why – it just seems like a recipe to order that Caesar or white wine.

When you add to that the stress of our new calling – trying to massage my message and accompanying slides for each group, always searching for the right words and new ways to convey them – the hours in the sky are a perfect place for temptation. Luckily, I’m able to keep my eye on the prize (sobriety) and just not drink. I wish it was as easy as it sounds – and to someone who has an “off” switch, I’m sure it does – but nothing worthwhile is easy, is it?

I talk about treatment and addiction in my speech, but I don’t dwell on it a lot. It falls under the “medicate if you need to, but don’t self-medicate” part of things we’ve learned. Everywhere you turn, every TV show you watch, every ad, every everything involves booze. You really don’t notice it until it’s a challenge, just as delicious dishes are everywhere when you’re trying to diet or you’re fasting, right?

I find myself noticing the smell of alcohol on people a lot more now, too. Like the guy near us on the small plane from Victoria to Vancouver Tuesday. I think people really have no idea how it oozes from their pores….

I just tell myself they must have used hand sanitizer. I remember Michelle Butterly coming into the studio one morning at CHFI and I could swear she smelled like vodka. But there was hand-sani right outside studio door. We had a good laugh about that!

Anyway, that’s where I am. Keeping up with my counselling, getting good advice from people who’ve been there, done that and don’t anymore, and being as open as I can about struggling.

It’s all about vulnerability: no one is meant to get through this alone. We don’t have to. Like grief, addiction is so isolating. It’s simply amazing – and freeing – when you are blessed to find others who share your path so you don’t ever have to walk it alone.

Have a lovely weekend. I’ll be in Rosseau for a Rotary International gathering and then off for a few days of bliss with a dear friend. I’ll talk to you here on Monday and thank you for coming by. I promise you it’ll all get back to “normal” (whatever the heck that is) soon!

Just a thought… Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole. [Roger Caras]

Ah, Election Day. I said it before and I’ll say it again – thank goodness our campaign cycle is weeks and not years like our neighbours to the south. I’ve got to say I had a sick feeling when I read online that a crowd was chanting “Lock Him Up! Lock Him Up!” at a campaign gathering on the weekend.

Shall we add a nice Canadian “u” and spell it deplourable? Because yelling about throwing someone in jail – that’s what we do when we don’t like a political rival now? Not in Canada it isn’t. Take that MAGA BS and stick it south of the border. (The chant was later changed to “vote him out.” But still….)

I’ll stick with a theme of gratitude: for the right to vote (which was bestowed upon most – but not all – Canadian women with the declaration of “personhood” just 90 years ago last Friday), the freedom of democracy, having a strong voice and hopefully returning to some form of civility after the votes are tallied tonight. I’m not so optimistic as I once was about a movement away from anger and hatred among some Canadians after today, but…we can hope.

I’m also grateful to have seen this in the weekend Globe and Mail (free for a limited time online BTW)… 

Still hanging in for the year at #10, Mourning Has Broken, I’m told, is #4 among Canadian writers for non-fiction for 2019. To say that I’m thrilled about it is an understatement. I’d give my life not to have written it, but if our story and experiences can help others, then they lend all of this some kind of positive meaning: something in which to find that precious gratitude.

Today I’ll end with a short video of a very special fur baby in our lives. On Saturday, Molly turned 15 years old and we can’t get over how much energy and life she has in her.

A Lhasa-Apso/Japanese Chin cross, I have no idea what her life expectancy is, but when you see this video, you’ll understand if we think she’s got a lot of fuel left in the tank, despite a few health problems.

Her joints and agility are like that of a much younger dog and to that I attribute her daily Leaps and Bounds chewy treat from SierraSil, a product which I joyfully and gratefully still use and endorse (you can click the link to learn more).

Molly’s “brother” Pepper lived a full life of 17-and-a-half years, but he sure didn’t move like this little girl; we sprinkled capsules (ours) over his food so he could still make the jump up to the bed, but Molly is literally leaps and bounds beyond where our sweet boy was at this age.

Interestingly, her appetite has grown over the past year (and so has her waistline) but a bit of extra weight doesn’t seem to be slowing her down at all. Of course, we do see some signs of old age: she’s losing her hearing and she sleeps a lot, mostly on our bed and often between Rob and me.

There’s a special sweet comfort that comes with falling asleep, one hand resting on a softly breathing family member. Rob might prefer it be him instead, but Molly positions herself so that she gets cuddles from both of us.

Happy 15th Birthday, Molly! 

Now, enjoy this video shot halfway through(!) a long walk last week and picked up when we returned home about 20 minutes later. Click the photo below to watch the video.

I’ll be back with you here on Thursday, writing once again from an Ontario time zone. My poor confused computer – and body clock! First stop: a big night of inspiration for The Light House for Grieving Children in Burlington, featuring a woman who personally knows tragedy and author of Resilience, FedEx Canada boss Lisa Lisson and me.

Click here for more information and maybe we’ll see you Wednesday night or at another event this trip.

Just a thought… Staying positive does not mean that things will be okay. Rather it is knowing that you will be okay no matter how things turn out. [author unknown]

I SO miss writing here every day. I’m out on walks and thinking of 17 different things to journal about, but now that I’ve curtailed my posts to two a week, it’s hard to narrow things down!

Luckily, I can post on my public Facebook page daily to share some thoughts (usually quotes that I hope will help with your day) but sometimes I just have more to get out of me – if that makes sense?

When we were with Mike Cooper at his place last week, we shot a short video where we talked about next October’s AMA Waterways river cruise.

Even if joining us (either on the boat next year or in Yorkville for a get-together on November 4) isn’t in your plans – and I get that it’s not for everyone – enjoy this fun and laughter-filled conversation. Click the photo below if you’d like to watch it.

Details on the party and the cruise are within the video and I’ll tell you that the man Gerry that we mention is a no-pressure kind of guy and he’ll be heading up the gathering. If you want to come, please email Gerry so he has some idea of numbers. Come by for a hug and hello and we’ll go from there, okay?

I shot another short video, but I’ll wait to share with you next week: Molly’s turning 15 very soon and I couldn’t resist shooting a bit of her on a walk. This dog is energy personified (perdogified?) and she amazes me every day. I think it’ll bring you some joy, especially on a Monday morning. And look, we all need that these days.

My heart has been so heavy of late with the news from south of the border and around the world, as well as the vitriol and divisiveness that has permeated our current election cycle. Trying to stay positive about anything these days is a challenge, especially when we’ve been hit by a rainy week here in the Victoria area.

Yes, I practise what I preach with meditation, yin yoga and getting together with friends on a shared path of recovery, but like everyone, I have my blue days. I’m just a little weary of it all.

I don’t know about you, but my best remedy is focussing on the day ahead and getting busy doing what I love: tonight I put on the lashes again and head out to emcee opening night of the Sidney Fine Arts Show. I will have the pleasure of interviewing a woman who has in her possession – and shares via a book and shows – exclusive Gerry Dieter photos of John and Yoko’s 1969 Bed In for Peace in Montreal. Should be fascinating!

Then tomorrow evening, I’m honoured to be taking part in a reading at Sidney LitFest – a celebration of books and authors. I love digging into life here in our new community: there’s one more event (a speech for BC retirees) next week before we head east again for a series of speeches and talks, so we’ve got a busy month ahead before shutting it all down for the winter.

Thanks for coming along for the ride and enjoy your weekend.