Erin's Journals

Just a quick note on a webinar happening tomorrow at 2 pm EDT to discuss the October 2020 AMA Waterways riverboat cruise that Mike Cooper and I are hosting – taking over the ENTIRE BOAT with just our group! If you’ve never taken part in a webinar, not to worry, it’s just my second. You need to pre-register, so just click here, and please join us tomorrow at 2 pm EDT. If you can’t, we’ll make it available for you at another time, plus there’s an evening webinar planned for June.
 
Meantime, today’s journal was inspired by what I experienced on our most recent trip, combined with the fact that Rob and I took off on a 30 km bike ride yesterday. BIG fun.
 
It happens repeatedly every year in almost every city where cyclists and motorists share the road: a driver finds the perfect parking spot; a taxi cab passenger reaches her destination. Then, unthinking, the person in the car opens the door into the bike lane (or even just into the street) and strikes a cyclist. It’s called dooring and it’s a daily – and often deadly – occurrence, especially if the person struck is sent out into traffic, often to be hit by a passing vehicle.
 
As a casual bike rider, I think about this all the time and give parked cars a careful, wide berth. I keep in mind that people are pre-occupied most of the time and so they don’t always (or sometimes ever) remember to check over their shoulder to see if there’s someone heading their way. That’s why the idea of what’s called the Dutch Reach – aka Far Reach, Far Hand Reach, Right Hand Reach, Reach Across and Safety Exit – is so brilliant.
 
As we saw on our recent trip to Amsterdam, they take cycling very seriously. (And with humour: a longstanding joke is asking Germans when they’re going to give back the bicycles they stole from Amsterdammers back in WWII.) But as one of our tour guides reminded us during our visit earlier this spring, if you hit a cyclist, you are in very big trouble. That may be why the Dutch Reach has become de rigueur there since it began in the 1970s under a campaign named to “stop the child killing.” The Dutch Reach is so normal that there isn’t even a name for it in Holland or The Netherlands.
 
How does it work? You park your car. Instead of using your left hand to open the driver’s side door, you reach across with your right hand. That way, you are forced to twist your body and it reminds you to look over that left shoulder to make sure the way is clear to open said door. (Obviously, the opposite works on the passenger side.)
 

 
It’s a simple way to reduce the risk of the biggest cause of car-to-cyclist crashes: dooring. As someone who rides, I’m always aware; as a passenger and occasional backseat driver, I’m also an active proponent of using this method, although I don’t do it 100% of the time – yet. They say that doing things for thirty days makes a habit of it. And here’s a handy tip: tie a ribbon to your car door (inside) so when you see it, you’re reminded not to try to step out until you and your passengers have checked to make sure the coast is clear.
 
This article from the New York Times has more tips, including those for cyclists, which include using running lights all day. I don’t have one, as I don’t ride at dusk, in the dark or in inclement weather, but it makes sense from a safety point of view. Just yesterday we noticed several riders with running lights, which was good in the many shady spots we rode through. Take a quick look at the article and maybe you’ll start using – and teaching your children to use – the Dutch Reach. You never know how many lives you could save.
 
Who’s in? 
 

Well, how nice it is to see you back here again! I’ve so been missing writing lo, these past two weeks, but my mind and my editor/IT guy/husband needed a break. A rest and recharge. (Except for the massive excitement of Saturday night’s Raptors’ win! Now…we await Thursday….)
 
With just one week until I’m in the GTA again full-speed-ahead for book events, there are a couple of BIG announcements!
 
Just last Friday (which also happened to be his birthday) my dear friend and partner Mike Cooper agreed to jump in and host an event next Tuesday (a week tomorrow) at the Flato Markham Theatre. You’ll find details on tickets here – it’s the 2 pm version of Reclaiming Joy (with me); the 7 pm show will feature CTV’s Beverly Thomson as host and interviewer. The 2 pm show was added rather last minute and Bev had to work during the day on CTV, so Mike said, “Sure, I’ll be there!”
 
It should be an amazing, funny and touching conversation. There are still some seats from the 10th row back, and down the sides for the afternoon, so get them today if you can and we’ll see you at 2 pm next Tuesday with Mike Cooper, or at 7 pm with the wonderful Beverly Thomson!
 
As if that’s not enough, we’ve gotten confirmation that after the success of this spring’s Amsterdam/Belgium trip, we WILL be taking over an entire Ama Waterways riverboat in October 2020 during Canadian Thanksgiving. It meanders from Switzerland to the Netherlands and Mike and I (your hosts along with New Wave Travel again) will be taking part in a webinar this Wednesday at 2 pm EDT if you want to join or just listen in! I’ll fill you in on the details tomorrow or Wednesday but it’s going to be epic.
 
Now…where was I?
 

 
It was refreshing to take the time to do a little reading: I felt as if I’d spent a few solid days with a good friend, but it was someone whom I have yet to meet. (I’m guessing now that I am out of the interviewing business, it’s not likely to happen, but I can’t give up a glimmer of hope.) And this woman knows hope: it’s former US First Lady Michelle Obama.
 
Rob and I were given her #1 bestselling autobiography Becoming by his sister Susan last Christmas, but I needed to have a clear head – and slate – in order to make time to immerse myself in Michelle’s story. Early on in the book, I read of her friend Suzanne’s death at 26 (cancer) and how it sparked in then-Michelle Robinson an awareness of the importance of stopping the climb and seeking joy once in a while.
 
This particular entry in the book resonated very clearly with me as I reflected upon Suzanne’s seeming attack on life: long before she got her deadly cancer diagnosis, she was intent on observing and pursuing a different set of priorities from her laser-focused Princeton University roomie, Michelle. It seemed to me an echo of what Rob and I have believed about our own daughter: she seemed subconsciously aware of a deadline, and sped up her own timeline to meet her lofty goals. So there was sadness in reading those pages, but also a resounding “hear, hear” to MRO’s message of being enough, doing what you need to do to feel fulfillment and recognizing that the gift of time does run out for us all.
 
But Mrs. Obama inspired me in yet another way: late one afternoon as I was searching for details on one of my appearances next week at a Chapters Indigo store, I came across a 2-star-out-of-5 review of my book from a man who’d read it and left his opinion on a website. (When I saw the two stars, an inner voice said, Don’t read it! but my curiosity won out.) I’m glad I did. I disagree with his opinion, but if everyone liked the same books, there would be a super long waiting list at the library, right?
  
Then I went and looked for reviews of Mrs. Obama’s mega-bestseller Becoming and, sure enough, on an adjacent site, someone said she was skipping through early chapters because in her words it was “boring.” But what the woman’s complaint centered on were the formative childhood and university years. Her “review” specifically mentioned “college roommates.” And yet, that story of her college roommate is the one that resonated with me most clearly.
 
So, I’ll call that a “bonus feature” of Becoming. A reminder that the question a young Michelle Robinson often asked herself – Am I enough? – won’t always be answered “yes” by the people around you. But when the answer inside you is resoundingly positive, that’s almost entirely all that matters.
 
I’ll have more for you here tomorrow. I’m so excited to be back – and glad you are, too.
 

Hi there –
 
I’ll be back with fresh journals on Monday, May 27, but I wanted to tell you something I hope will be of interest to you. A NEW DATE has been added to appearances in June – an afternoon in Markham – and I thought journal readers should be among the very first to know.
 
As you may have seen in the What’s Up section of my homepage, I’m coming to Ontario the week of June 2:
 
June 3 – Indigo Mississauga (7 pm in conversation with CHFI’s Michelle Butterly)
 
June 4 – Reclaiming Joy with Erin Davis (7 pm at Flato Markham Theatre) in conversation with Beverly Thomson of CTV
JUST ADDED: JUNE 4 RECLAIMING JOY WITH YOU-KNOW-WHO AT 2 PM AT FLATO MARKHAM THEATRE, also in conversation with Beverly Thomson of CTV
 
June 5 – Indigo Kitchener (7 pm in conversation with CHYM’s Adele Newton)
 
June 6 – An Afternoon with Erin Davis (11 am to 2 pm at Tangle Creek Golf Club in Thornton near Alliston) to benefit Matthew’s House Hospice
 
Links to get directions and/or ticket information for all of the above can be found in the What’s Up section (just scroll up, if you’re reading this today). 
 
I look forward to seeing you.
 

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.