Erin's Journals

Welcome to Friday! I’m saying good-bye here for two weeks as we raise our heads and close our laptops (for longer periods than just overnight) and Rob and I reconnect with each other over the next little bit. As you may know, tomorrow marks four years since Lauren left us. The next day – well, you know what Sunday is. And if you’re celebrating it, I hope that you and/or your mom (if you’re lucky enough to have her with you) enjoy your day.
 

 
This year, our grief has been put to what I hope is the best possible practical application with the release of the print and audio versions of Mourning Has Broken. The awful events that stamp our hearts May 11, 2015 are the reason for that book. And all we can do is keep spreading the word of Love, Loss and Reclaiming Joy because those last two words are what Rob and I are attempting to do – especially from now until May 24.
 
In the next few days I will link here and in social media to some pretty special events we’ll be gearing up to in the first week of June: as you know from the What’s Up section, I’m at Indigo Mississauga June 3, at a very special event at the Flato Markham Theatre for An Evening of Reclaiming Joy (with host/interviewer Bev Thomson) on June 4, Indigo Kitchener June 5 and near Alliston at Tangle Creek Golf Club June 6 for a special fundraiser for Matthews House Hospice. 
 
I hope you and I will cross paths at one of these gatherings. I’m very excited to be coming back and connecting with everyone again. Best of all, it’s a Thelma and Louise week split between my friends Lisa Brandt and then Allan Bell. I get to spend time with two of my very favourite people. 
 
As I mentioned to you in my Mental Health Week journal on Monday, the past few months have been a particurly intense period in what was often a busy and full life. For ten weeks now, Mourning Has Broken has been on the Top 10 Bestsellers lists (Canadian Non-Fiction), sitting most recently at the #7 spot on both the Toronto Star and Globe and Mail lists. I tell you this not to boast (although if I don’t, I’m quite sure you won’t see it in anyone else’s blog LOL) but to give you a glimpse of just how surreal all of this has been for Rob and for me.
 
The tornado of activity that we’ve been caught up in after about two years of sitting and writing and just being has been quite a change of pace. I find myself cherishing days where I have nothing to do but gentle stretching Yin yoga. I’m very happy when the only beautification I have to do is shower, brush my hair and teeth and maybe put on some lip colour. Or not. Right now we’re still in search of whatever our daily norm is, four years after the world in our perfect little snow globe was shaken and smashed in some sort of screaming tantrum thrown by a child reacting in fury at the seeming perfection of our lives.
 
In the aftermath of those dark, early days, we didn’t dare dream that we’d come out the other side alive, never mind in the bright sunshine where we find ourselves today, both literally and figuratively. Rob and I are incredulous and elated over the response to the book that has been such a labour of love: not the sales per se, but the fact that so many people are reaching out to tell us that they relate to, they understand, they appreciate and they need the message within. That’s more than we could have hoped for.
 
Book sales? No one (save a rare few) gets rich from selling books, so let me disabuse you of that notion! But that was never our aim: the gratification for us is seeing our book in the hands of so many who might need it, whether they’re coming from a place of grief or just wanting to learn the language of loss. And we are hoping that the message of hope is one that is spreading.
 
I’ll be back here with you, refreshed and ready to roll, on Monday, May 27. Thank you to Cheryl for finding and then creating the very special picture above. It was taken by Rob in 2006 on a ship…the best way to hold a teen hostage so she has to spend time with her parents! Lauren was 15, that Katie Couric cut was one of my favourites and it just fits: mother, daughter, Mother’s Day. I’ll be sure to feature one with Rob in June – I promise.
 
Thank you for being here and I’ll be back with you soon.
 

What wonderful things will happen today? That’s the question with which I start every morning: I ask Rob to tell me something good (he always opens his email first) or I ask myself what wonderful thing will happen today.
 
Yesterday’s wonder was a lovely bike ride with friends on a perfect day, a visit to Lauren’s bench near willow trees and a duck pond in Sidney and your notes that the C on the goalie keychain I found Monday was, of course, Colin. (Or, y’know, Calgary…LOL.) I needed that. Oh, and then Joanne K. sent me this picture, which was also pretty cool, of a store window in Oakville.
 

 
It made me feel not so awkward about going into famed Bolen Books in Victoria and gently asking why my book wasn’t on the Bestsellers table at the entrance. (The nice lady said she’d ask about that.) It’s so not like me to do something like that where I could look ridiculous, but if I don’t ask them to put out my book, who’s going to? Stephen King?
 
I can tell you something pretty awesome that happened on Monday evening, too: I was invited into a home via FaceTime and got to spend an hour with a book club. Organized by AM740’s Samantha Houston, the ladies sat, enjoyed snacks and wine and listened to me talk about the book. I was also gently peppered with questions. One of them had to do with why I viewed Mother’s Day the way I did in the book. I can say “viewed” now in the past tense, because they’ve changed my opinion.
 
In Mourning Has Broken, I wrote: “Now, though, May is a month so rife with razor-edged memories – not to mention the full weight of Mother’s Day, whatever that is supposed to be to me now – that it brings more sadness than hope. But I do believe it will get easier.”
 
Between the day that I wrote those sentences and today, I can tell you that it has gotten easier. And let me tell you how.
 
Jerry Howarth, recently retired Blue Jays’ radio broadcaster and fellow author (his Hello Friends: Stories From My Life & Blue Jays Baseball has been spotted alongside mine on bestseller lists and store shelves), has written to me every day in May with a remembrance from my book or a question that applies to Lauren. What was her favourite song? What made her laugh? What’s the funniest thing she did? Things like that.
 
It’s a funny and caring thing to do and I adore Jerry for lightening this week leading up to May 11 and Mother’s Day. So that’s one way things have gotten easier (even though I’m not sure I would have dug into these memories of Lauren had he not asked).
 
The other is in talking to that small group of deeply caring, funny and interesting women on Monday night. I was basically schooled in why I AM still a Mother, why I shouldn’t resent those well-meaning “I just nominated YOU for World’s Best Mom” memes that spread over Facebook at this time of year, why I shouldn’t ask who I am now.
 
I am still a mom. Lauren’s mom. Even though I know I carried, gave birth to and raised this amazing person, I questioned whether you can still wear the name after the only person who ever called you “Mom” is gone. As one of the women pointed out, her mom has died, but she still considers herself a daughter. Well, that gave me pause – big time.
 
This year, thanks to that boisterous and heart-filled discussion on Monday, I’m approaching Mother’s Day, not with the heaviness I’ve felt for the past three years (she died the day after Mother’s Day in 2015), but hopefully – hopefully – with a feeling of celebration: for what Rob and I accomplished together, for the person that Lauren turned out to be, for the mother that she was in the brief seven months she had, and for the mother that Colin now has. We are grateful and it is that attitude of gratitude, that “reclaiming joy” of which I write, that we will aim our hearts towards this Sunday.
 
I’ve even told Rob he may be on the hook for a Mother’s Day gift – oh, that made HIS day, I’ll tell you! LOL
 
Luckily for him, I happened to write this article for Walmart, which is online today. Maybe you can pass on a few hints, too. 
 
Have a good one and I’ll be back with you here tomorrow.
 

Welcome to Wednesday! You’ve heard of birthday parties, Tupperware parties, cocktail parties, lingerie parties, bachelorette parties and even chicken pox parties, right? Well, let me introduce you to the most UNUSUAL party I’ve ever heard of. And, like something out of Studio 54 back in the day, everyone is eventually going to end up with their undies off.
 
Now that I have your undivided attention….
 

 
I won’t be going – it’s not like I don’t have an opening (ba-dum-buh); I’m not due for one. But honestly, isn’t a Pap Party just the best idea? Everybody’s in there for the same reason, there’ll be lots of laughter and anyone who’s on the younger end, again, so to speak, who isn’t comfortable with the routine (and really, who of us is?) could feel more at ease with the vibe in the waiting room.
 
Last month I went for a mammogram and, although there were some tense faces in the room as we sat there in our matching gowns, I was able to crack a few smiles when I said, “Oh, come on – don’t you hate when you show up and everybody’s wearing the same damn thing?” One other gal had the same sense of humour.
 
I recognize and respect that there are women who are there with some very serious concerns on their minds, but I haven’t found a situation yet where even a tiny bit of humour didn’t help – even if just to lift the heaviness for a second. Now I wish I was going to the Pap Party tonight. If you think I had fun with a colonoscopy prep menu (and I did a few months back), boy, could I have my way with this one!
 
Here’s to thinking outside the box (stop it!) when it comes to making medical procedures just a little less awkward for everyone. I love this idea but, most of all, I love a country where we’re not getting a big old invoice at the end of the procedure.
 
Our health care system isn’t perfect, but I am thankful every single day for Tommy Douglas and the forward thinkers who made this possible. Although I’m pretty sure they’d need smelling salts at the thought of tonight’s little gathering. Dress Code: Open (to interpretation).
 

SO…this just in…yesterday afternoon I received an email from Gerry at New Wave Travel and it’s looking like an exclusive taking-over-the-boat Rhine Cruise on the AmaStella in October 2020 is becoming a reality. I’ll keep you posted; right now we’re making sure of details. But I got that note just as I was sitting down to pen this today, so I had to pass it along. More to come when I get back from my little two week sabbatical.
 
Anyway, I thought I’d keep it a little shorter today and share with you a smile, a godwink, a nod from beyond…or, at least, what I choose to think of as such.
 
You know from reading Mourning Has Broken (or just from visiting here regularly) that I’m a fan of looking for signs. Whether it’s a feather here or there, a dime or a special song that comes on at just the right moment, I’m always keeping my eyes (and ears) open in case Lauren wants to send a nudge. There are some, I’m sure, who think it’s a sign, all right – one that I’m losing it – but what the heck. If it hurts no one and makes us feel better, what’s the harm?
 
So it was yesterday that I found myself at the dentist – a lovely lady whose office sits on the banks of a lake just south of us. To look out the window and see a heron landing is just bliss.
 
Once I’d gotten a filling repaired, I took a short walk along the lake’s edge. There were even a few hardy children playing in the sand and water, their mom looking on, while another gentleman sat and read. A lovely spring sight here on bucolic Vancouver Island.
 

 
As it has been and will be for the rest of the week, my mind was especially filled with thoughts of Lauren. I sat on a rock and looked out on the placid waters as I played her singing “Dream a Little Dream of Me” on my iPhone. I stood up to walk some more and as I looked down in the deep, dewy grass, I spotted something black and shiny, barely bigger than a toonie.
 
I bent down and picked it up and turned it over. Here’s what that was.
 

 
A keychain – a goalie mask – for Rob (who plays goal). Sure, he’s never been a Flames fan (try to find a Maple Leafs fan out here!) but I thought perhaps she was saying, “C? I’m thinking of you.” I don’t know…but as I say, what harm does it do?
 
Have a gentle day and I’m just so pleased to hear that so many of the folks who come by here were in 20C+ temperatures yesterday. Not all, I know, but enough that I didn’t feel guilty about my flip flops and beach walk yesterday!
 
Back with you here tomorrow.
 

This is Mental Health Week in Canada and I’m so glad to have something really meaningful to share here, thanks to a former morning competitor.
 
First off, I’ve been more than a little worried about my own, of late. I’ve taken on a lot, and one week ago, I even had an interview fall through the cracks: I hadn’t put my live Facebook chat on the Teresa and Amy Show in my calendar and I awoke literally FIVE MINUTES before we were to go live. As Rob hooked us up, I ran a brush through my hair, dabbed on some concealer and lip colour and jumped into a chair. I put on a bra, undies and a zip-up jacket. Didn’t have pants – honestly.
 
Held up my phone above me for at least half an hour to try to get just my face in – not too many chins – and did the interview. It’s a blur and I won’t be sharing the video (I haven’t even seen it yet) as I’m pretty sure I looked like death warmed over (as my mom would say). Not all of us are as brave as Jann Arden!
 
But that’s just one thing that’s happened. My mental cogs are slipping and I have had a great deal of trouble keeping straight the commitments I’ve made recently. I’m being more careful with my calendar, for sure, but I still don’t love the way it’s laid out.
 
My right hand, Rob, has been busier than usual editing an audio book we’ve recorded (not mine – it’s already out) while I’ve been keeping up with increased requests from the folks posting my Walmart pieces. It’s not a burden, it’s something I signed up for. (Getting snark from people about me using my own time and website to post links to those articles – that’s a burden. Buh-bye.)
 
Don’t get me wrong. I’m so bloody lucky I can hardly begin to calculate it when it comes to nasty correspondence from faceless critics. Yes, I do include a few real doozies in my book and I’ve received more kindness in response to those poison pen letters than you can imagine. But a lot of the reason I don’t actually invite nastiness is that I don’t delve into areas of controversy, therefore the knives don’t usually come out.
 
People know I despise lugubrious liars and con men in politics and if anything they read from me is a surprise, then they’re quite likely in the wrong place. I am grateful not to be on the air in Toronto anymore, lest I sever my tongue daily from biting it.
 
What does this have to do with Mental Health Week? I want to take a moment to salute a fellow morning broadcaster. I didn’t get to know Newstalk 1010’s John Moore very well; we go back and forth occasionally on Twitter, and that’s about it. But I was aware – as were his listeners – when John took some time off for mental health reasons. Just one week ago today, he shared those reasons upon his return and it’s truly worth the listen. Click on the photo below to hear it.
 

 
I am lucky not to have faced the vitriol of people who hate my politics or my face or my beliefs, my skin colour or my sexuality. There’s plenty of that out there and I count myself fortunate. Yes, I’ve blocked some people on social media who were needlessly cruel or rude – and it’s felt great. My playground, my rules. I won’t have my day ruined by someone who won’t even put a face where the silhouette shot is, or include their real name.
 
It was bad enough when a relative (by marriage) posted a Maxine cartoon – not legit – about immigrants to Canada being like birds at a feeder, blah blah blah. After reading her post, which had been copied and pasted to death, I didn’t know what to do except hit MUTE. I was bothered all day by the fact that someone in my own family tree – albeit on a different branch – thinks like that.
 
But was it worth a fight? I didn’t have the energy. My mental health is worth more than trying to change the mind of someone who has spent 50+ years feeling and believing that way. Denying climate change. Hating Trudeau. Condemning people who believe in wind and solar power, because tar sands put food on her family’s table. I harken back to the AA Serenity Prayer once again and its last line: “…and the wisdom to know the difference.” I can’t change anything there.
 
Although my Dad feels much the same way as my Alberta kin about a lot of those issues, at least with him I can have a conversation – sometimes slightly heated – and we both come out feeling respected and heard. Facebook and its ilk offer no such outcome, most of the time.
 
Listen to John Moore’s piece. Hear a man standing up bravely in the face of haters. Pledging to take better care of himself. It’s something I’m going to do and why I’m taking two weeks off journaling after this Friday. If you know our family calendar, you’ll understand why. But I’ll be right back here tomorrow!