Erin's Journals

Ah, the long weekend has arrived after what, for many, felt like one of the longest weeks of the year! Thousands upon thousands of flight cancellations across Canada and the US, havoc on the roads, school cancellations and more. What a nightmare! And while I settle in at home and try to get used to all of this snow (which has far surpassed the February record in Victoria, set back when World War II was still raging), I’ve got a fireplace, my own bed and a bathtub that I plan to spend lots of time in. 
 
There’s plenty to reflect upon and look forward to in the quiet of home today. The old saying “Don’t be sorry it’s over, be glad it happened” couldn’t be more true. Even saying good-bye to Palm Springs yesterday, as I took off from one of the sweetest partially open-air terminals anywhere, was not accompanied by a sense of loss or sadness. That’s because our next adventure is just about to begin!
 
This is the first year that British Columbia has lined up with other provinces marking Family Day weekend; we were one week earlier until 2019. So I won’t be providing a journal here on Monday, also because Rob is on the road tomorrow with Molly, heading north through snow and rain to get back home to me. He thanks you for understanding.
 
I was fortunate last night to be met at my flight by a couple who have kept the home fires burning (quite literally) as well as the driveway shovelled during our absence. Melanie and Fred live in Calgary and Mel is the niece of good friends on the island. When the opportunity arose for them to escape the frigid temperatures and daunting snow accumulations in Alberta, they happily agreed to stay at our place, collecting mail, keeping it in order and eliminating any worries we had about leaving our house empty for three months.
 
What they didn’t count on was the record amount of snow. Good thing they’re not paying or someone might be demanding a refund!
 
Today, they’re heading home while I run some errands and get my act together for the road trip that begins next week in Ontario. The house will be eerily quiet, I’m sure, but I’ll take that time to do some more writing, and start piling clothes and things I’ll need (including winter wear) for our journey. There is just so much to look forward to, and right at the top of the list is a three-day visit with our son-in-law, his wife and little Colin. We can’t wait!
 
So, a few reflections on having guests visiting us in the south over the past three months. We were so excited to be able to invite people to a place where they could enjoy a respite from winter, while also reconnecting with us. Kind of a two-for-one deal, wouldn’t you say?
 
Our friends were all flexible and understanding when work beckoned; the past couple of weeks, Rob has been unusually anti-social (or so you would think, if you didn’t get us) as he sat, headphones on, toiling on our audio book. I’ll fill you in on some of the challenges involved there, perhaps next week. He sent off the finished product on Wednesday, barely two weeks after getting word that HarperCollins was indeed interested in the audio book. (I’m not sure how or when the book is going to be sold in that form, but I’ll keep you posted here, I promise.)
 
Because we were hosting, we had to immerse ourselves a little more deeply, a little more quickly, in life in our area. We got to visit the famous Aerial Tramway, tried out a few restaurants and chose some fast favourites, took a few scenic drives, got caught in rains of monsoon strength that tore off a protective shield under our car, and even did a bit of cycling and hiking.
 
We swam, we laughed, we ate fruit from citrus trees in the neighbourhood, we sat out by a fire pit and we made use of the hot tub. Keeping the pool at a bath-like 86F cost us more than almost any other expense (other than rent) this winter, but it was totally worth it. Otherwise, it just would have sat there; I know myself that well.
 
I wish I could say I was coming back fitter and thinner than when I left, but having company makes you eat more meals (and dine out more often) than you would at home. But that’s why my yoga pants have been such comfy go-to this winter. Now, I’m switching them out for pantyhose and tights for cooler temps, but my goodness, how am I ever going to get back in heels after Skechers, slippers and flip flops? I guess there will be some clomping around the empty house in tighter shoes in the week ahead….
 
Our guests were generous and brought gifts, treated us to meals, bought groceries and pitched in with laundry and cleaning. We couldn’t have asked for more. Our friends Lisa and Derek even brought a massive package of toilet paper (the GOOD STUFF ) when they drove down in our MINI! If that isn’t friendship, well, I don’t know what is. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think of them whenever I used it, although that may really be TMI!
 
Here’s to friends that are like family – the ones you love to see arrive and hate to see leave. I wish you a weekend that is cozy and filled with the love that everyone was extolling on Thursday. Because the love of good friends who are there for you truly is priceless. Take good care and I’ll be back with you on Tuesday.
 

Ah, Valentine’s Day. A day that engenders as much antipathy and cynicism as it does excitement and genuine affection. I was always of the mindset that any day that inspires people to even think about love and to express it is good in my books. I’m sure I’ve told you that Rob and I don’t mark V-Day, as our anniversary comes just six days later. But still, it’s always a good opportunity to take inventory of how lucky we are to love and be loved. 
 
When a heart has been broken, as ours (like so many others’) have been, you wonder if you can ever truly love again. I felt that way when Rob and I broke up just a few weeks after our first engagement.
 
We had fallen for each other hard and fast, which came as a surprise to us both: I dated stock traders, lawyers and cops, but here’s this guy with a beard and a motorcycle with whom I thought I had little in common, except our abundance of love for and knowledge about the Beatles. We went out to dinner on what most decidedly was not a date (I had a free meal because I did a restaurant’s ads, and then off to Second City – another freebie – to do a review).
 
But there we were, having discovered chemistry that almost literally produced sparks when our hands accidentally touched. It was that fast, that obvious. Or at least we thought it was; Rob soon realized that he should honour a commitment he had made to another woman, a dear friend who had left the country to travel and consider whether marriage to Rob was the right next step.
 
While he worked that out in his head and his heart, eventually coming to the decision that he needed to do what was right for himself and to believe that he deserved happiness after a 10-year first marriage that had ended in divorce, I held onto hope. I gave him back the engagement ring, sure, but I never gave up the belief that this was the man with whom I would live out my life.
 
We couldn’t have known in those early, heady days of romance and reconciliation that the strength of our love would be tested in such an enormous way nearly thirty years later. But when our hearts were broken in 2015, we held fast, buoying each other, sinking together and gathering strength to stand up again.
 
Now, the reward for that resilience is a four-year-old boy that we could not possibly love more than we do. Every week, our spirits are lifted and we laugh constantly when we video chat with sweet Colin as he eats his lunch. He sings and he giggles, he mugs for the camera and laughs at our jokes. A sense of sadness that used to overcome Rob after those chats has been replaced by joy. Colin is a boy who’s full of beans and they are magic ones to be sure: he’s found a way to mend two broken people in a way we could not have envisioned.
 

 
So today, our Valentine is this message from the heart: to remind us all that as long as there is love – whether it’s a child, a grandchild, a partner or a parent, a dog or cat or someone you just hold in your heart in the form of a precious memory – then there is life.
 
My mom used to say, when she gave us advice on choosing a partner, “You can’t live on love.” Some sound prairie wisdom to be sure; love doesn’t pay the bills, but it makes a twin or double bed a lot more comfortable! Indeed, love may not be all you need (sorry, John and Paul) but it’s pretty damned close. And someone to hold your hand and pull you onward when you can’t find your way alone. When you have love, you have the strength to figure out the rest. 
 
I wish you love and loving memories, as well as the hope for love and the blessings it brings.
 
And I love that you’re here with me each day, willing to share the stories and the ride. Happy Valentine’s Day – whatever it means to you. (And just for fun, here’s the link to my second Walmart article titled Better Ways to Start Your Days.)
 

I hope that, since these are our last few days here, you won’t mind me sharing a view or two from our winter here in Palm Springs. I’ve been reluctant to do so before, as I don’t want to tick you off – especially when I see cold weather and icy condition alerts in my Twitter feed, not to mention scads of cancellations. Stay safe! Now – think warm thoughts (again).
 
These are a few of the glorious sights of Thousand Palms Oasis Preserve, just a short drive from Palm Springs, Cathedral City and Palm Desert. It’s free to enter and walk, and is a most enjoyable experience.
 

 

 
It was here three years ago that I shot a video for my journal, talking about the new adventure I was about to take with my incoming partner at CHFI. Who could have known that by the end of the year I’d have decided to take my leave of the airwaves? Crazy.
 
The sunsets here in the Palm Springs area are not to believed. Where our house is situated, we lost the sunlight (thanks to a mountain) at about 4 pm each day and it immediately got noticeably chillier. But when we got out of the neighbourhood, no matter how cool (or, eventually, rainy) the days were, we were frequently treated to gorgeous sunsets. Here are a few:
 

 
I’ll leave you with those today. Tomorrow: wheels up to YYJ. I’ll be back here with you, though with some thoughts on love – is it all you need – and thanks for coming by to share a little bit of time with me today. As always, I’m grateful.
 

Well, after three months here, incredibly, it’s almost time to go home, back north to the snowy scenes the Calgary couple house sitting at our place near Victoria have sent us in the past few days. There’s about 15 cm of snow in our driveway, which hasn’t seen a shovel yet this season. Major thoroughfares on the island were shut down completely on Sunday as folks who are just not accustomed to the white stuff struggled to navigate the snowy roads.
 
I know that I won’t get any sympathy from you if you’re in Southern Ontario with a storm bearing down, yet again. In fact, our Keswick-area guests, who were to depart today, flew out yesterday, a day early, to beat the weather. Thank goodness. I’ll be honest: I’m getting really worried about a book tour taking me from Oakville to Oshawa to Ottawa at the end of the month, but hoping that the Old Farmer’s Almanac forecast for rainy but milder weather turns out to be true. 
 
After what was meant to be a relaxing winter – and truly, at times, it was – we’re in full gear for the big adventure next week of a book tour. I still can’t really believe this is all happening, but here it is. At long last, Mourning Has Broken will be out, the TV events will take place and public appearances will be made.
  
I will be wheels-up from Palm Springs International Airport on Thursday, when I wave good-bye to my Valentine and fly home to BC. Rob drives home with Molly starting Saturday. Is your head spinning yet? Walk a mile in my Skechers!
 
My aim from here on in is to stay healthy! I’ve been drinking effervescent Airborne immunity boosters for the past week and have been slamming the Vitamin C tablets since one of our guests came down with a terrible cold, but have decided not to get the vitamin IV I was planning on before setting foot on an airplane full of wintry germs.
 
Although I used to get them in Toronto every November before I started getting run down with the incredible pace of our schedule every holiday season, the jury is out on how effective the IVs actually are, so I decided against it. (The same scientific jury is out on Airborne, too, but we think it helps.)
 
We haven’t had our flu shots this year because we left BC before we’d had a chance, darn it. So I’m just going to pray that I’m surrounded by healthy folks for the next two weeks and that I manage to get enough rest. After March 4th, I can let my guard down. I don’t know how my body will react to cold temperatures but clearly I’ve got some toughening up to do!
 
These last few days have been spent carpe-ing the heck out of each diem. On Friday, we ventured to one of the most beautiful spots I’ve encountered in California. It wasn’t on the ocean, but water did have a starring role in its beauty. At $7 per person admission to the Indian Canyons, its price may strike you as steep when you enter. However, you’re soon in awe of the incredible beauty of this place with its many hiking trails, a gift shop and snack bar. Take a look at some of the shots I took during our visit.
 

 
If you have time and funds to pay to see just one natural wonder, I’d choose this over the sprawling but unusual views of Joshua Tree Park anyday. I think next year we’ll bite the bullet, buy a $90 pass and visit regularly. It’s good for the soul and I hope it helped brighten your Tuesday, too.
 
Back here with you tomorrow with some more shots as we get set to put Palm Springs in the rearview mirror. I hope you won’t mind doing some California dreamin’ for a few days, as we will be soon as well!
 

Happy Monday! Hope you had a restful and relaxing weekend. Something happened to us on Friday that I have been thinking about since December of 2016, when I received an email from Iris Tupholme at HarperCollins saying she was in the audience of Tracy Moore’s Cityline tv show, heard what I said, and thought I had a book in me. This arrived on our doorstep at the end of last week.
 

 
It was about 5 pm when I heard a car come to a sudden stop in front of our rented house. There was a brisk knock at the door. Rob and I had been lost in our own worlds, pecking away at our respective laptops. Our friends Charles and Nancy were out for the afternoon, so we took the opportunity to get more work done: him on the audio book editing, me on writing articles for ideas.walmart.ca like the one I shared last week with you. 
 
By the time Rob got to the door, the driver had pulled away and there sat a package. The envelope’s return address said HarperCollins.
 
I had goosebumps as we stood together in the kitchen, Rob wielding the butcher knife that I didn’t trust myself with to open the stubborn plastic envelope. I closed my eyes as I pulled it out. When I opened them, there it was: my book, my labour of love, my tear-stained testament to the fact that you can love someone with all of your heart and yet find ways to fill it with joy when that heart is still in pieces. 
 
Until now, I’ve only held a paperback reviewer’s copy – one that still bore errors that would be caught and fixed in the months between that early edition and the one I held in my hands. The pages are carefully laid out and cleanly trimmed; it weighs not what we thought it might, but feels just right in my hands.
 
I held it and ran my fingers over the raised font on the cover, reading and re-reading the gentle, beautiful words of Jann Arden in its foreword, poring over the tiny type that said First Edition. This is all a small miracle – starting with how Iris came to be in that audience on that particular day (all by chance). I will always believe that Lauren’s hand was at work making these early connections, just as she guided me through the arduous months that followed. I will share with you the words of dedication that open the book:

Today, my thoughts are with my sister Leslie, whose eldest child Michael would have – should have – turned 25. I wrote a blog about his 2017 murder which, to this day, has yet to be solved.
 
But as grateful as I was to be able to offer Leslie a knowing ear and shoulder to cry on during those early days, as they awaited confirmation of her son’s death, I am equally indebted to her for offering to me two different perspectives on losing children: one, before she was able to join the world and, the other, two decades afterwards. She is one of a handful of amazing women who shared with me their stories so that I might be able to look at life after loss from points of view vastly different from my own.
 
I am grateful to each one for the stories these brave women shared with me and I know they’ll stay in your heart long after you’ve set this book aside. 
 
Thank you for being at my side and sharing the journey with us. Friday was one of the highs – and you were right there, too.