Erin's Journals

This is a day that is so filled with love and joy and bittersweet memories that I hardly know how to process it all. So, as always, I’ll focus on the positive: thoughts of how incredibly happy this day was four years ago.
 
We got the call at the cottage, having finished an early Thanksgiving dinner on the Saturday of the long weekend. We’d been on pins and needles awaiting that phone call from Lauren and it came just as we were getting ready to serve ourselves seconds. Sister Leslie, who lived nearby, was called into action: in they swooped to stay with the dogs and clean up after dinner.
 
I remember so much about that late night drive to Ottawa, including a low-slung, pumpkin-coloured moon that guided our way until we got close to Ottawa. Then, as if on cue to provide a backdrop for the mood ahead, a light rain began. For it was then that we got a call from a worried Phil saying that Lauren was going to have to undergo a Caesarian section: she’d had but one contraction and it was evident that the baby was in distress.
 
I was sorry not to be at her side, but had heeded her stern request for no company that Thanksgiving weekend. We arrived in the dark, just hours after Colin’s arrival and will forever associate the gratitude of this annual holiday with the way we felt when he made it into the world – albeit a little grey – safe and sound.
 
11’s can hold joy on our calendar, too, you see. It’s just the yin and yang of life and the universe in general, isn’t it? (You can see the video I posted of the day after his arrival here.) It seems impossible that he’s grown so quickly in just four years, but that’s how life works, right? Another trip around the sun, as they say. 
 

 
Today, he’s a beautiful, strong, tall and healthy boy. He’s happy and does math almost better than I do (which isn’t really saying much, I confess). He’s got an inquisitive mind and an ear for mimicry. His latest trick: “EEEEHHHH. Winner! Gagnon!” No, he hasn’t inherited Grama Banana’s penchant for video poker (that we know of) but it’s his version of the sound he heard a machine bellow while at a cash register recently.
 
Colin is crazy for Paw Patrol, loves to read and sings Raffi’s “Baby Beluga” beautifully. He’s a rough and tumble little boy who likes nothing better than to be jumping on or off things. He keeps his momma and daddy on their toes, for sure.
 
I know that Lauren is beside him, beside Phil and Brooke, helping in any way that she can to give them the strength and stamina to keep up with this amazing little person. Despite being first-time parents, they’ve both got wisdom galore and are doing a great job of guiding him with what we would say is the right balance of love and discipline. I’m just so proud of the three of them for the life they’re building and the memories they’re making with every passing day.
 
Happy Birthday, Colin. You have so many people near and far who love you very deeply, including more grandparents than you’ll probably ever figure out! And our devotion to you only grows with every passing year. Thank you for bringing us such joy, sweet boy. Thank you, Lauren, for leaving us with this everlasting gift.
 
Love, Grama and Grandad Banana.
 

Hello from wintry Winnipeg. We don’t have the snow here that greeted us during a brief transfer in Calgary yesterday (briefer than planned, as my WestJet flight was uncharacteristically late in taking off from Victoria), but it’s cold – near freezing. Honey, I am not ready for this! But the reception last night from folks at CREA was warm enough to keep me cozy all the way home.
 
This past weekend I had to do something to take my mind off the Kavanaugh confirmation (yes, it depressed me that much) so Rob and I had a good old fashioned date. Well, maybe not so old fashioned: dinner and a movie isn’t our thing as we consider the gluttonous amounts of popcorn we inhale at the theatre actually to be our dinner. But we headed downtown, picked up our reserved tickets, loaded up on popcorn and reclined in style to take in – at long last – A Star is Born.
 

 
Although it would seem that Beauty and the Beast isn’t the only “tale as old as time,” this was my first experience with a movie by this title. Having not seen the 1937 Fredric March/Janet Gaynor original, the 1954 Judy Garland/James Mason version (until Monday night), nor the Barbra Streisand/Kris Kristofferson remake, I had only the raves from TIFF and the trailers that had so captivated us to go by.
 
By the way, Lady Gaga, who co-stars with writer, director, singer and songwriter Bradley Cooper, says that the film really bears little resemblance to its 1976 precursor; we’ll know after seeing it this weekend on TV. Check your listings if you’re interested in seeing it. 
 
I discussed this movie and its predecessors with guests on the weekend and, to my surprise, it became clear that not everyone knows the basic storyline! I thought everyone did. So with that in mind, I won’t even allude to anything that happens. I think you know the basics: a superstar (actor in earlier incarnations; singer in the later ones) discovers an unknown talent and helps to make her a superstar, too. Then hilarity ensues. (Just kidding. It does not.)
 
I know comparisons are not fair, but when a movie’s been done so many times, it’s almost impossible not to. By the time Kris Kristofferson embraced one of the co-lead roles in 1976, he’d already been on the silver screen, but was known chiefly as a singer/songwriter. Bradley Cooper, on the other hand, has really only achieved fame as an actor.
 
Well, here’s a real revelation: he’s one hell of a rock-country singer, contributed to the writing of some solid songs, acts beautifully and directs the film with such deftness that he’s likely to become the ninth actor to be nominated for Oscars both as an actor and director (joining such luminaries as Orson Welles, Laurence Olivier and Warren Beatty, to name three). He’s just that good. The guitar work he does is not just convincing, it’s REAL and his performance almost guarantees him the Oscar that has eluded him despite four nominations. 
 
Then we get to Lady Gaga, who turns out to be the actress that a singer with whom she’s frequently compared, Madonna, always wished she could be. The casting of Stefani Germanotta (aka Gaga) in the role of the singer/songwriter who’s molded into a superstar could not be more pitch perfect. And better still, she makes the role her own, leaving other comparisons – like that to La Streisand – in the dust. 
 
This incarnation of A Star is Born will be the film to beat at the Oscars next year, but as we all know, a lot can happen in the run up to movies’ big night. (Just ask the aforementioned Warren Beatty.) You don’t want to miss this one, though. I wish I could say more about the film, but again, I don’t want to be your spoiler.
 
Oh, one note: there are more f-words than F-chords in this movie, just so you know. I was too busy eating popcorn to clutch my pearls, but just in case you know someone thinking of going who might feel differently…. (Also, drug and alcohol abuse is rampant.) 
 
On a much different note, this weekend we’re taking in First Man, starring, coincidentally, another actor who embraced playing an instrument (piano) and singing for a role that elevated him to Leading Actor Oscar status in La La Land. I’ll let you know if, in my humble opinion, it’s worth your IMAX money to see Ryan Gosling as Neil Armstrong. 
 
Don’t you love when it’s grown-up movie season again? Have a good Wednesday and I’ll be back with you for a red-letter day here tomorrow.
 

I hope that you had a lovely Thanksgiving weekend. Ours was spent with friends and extended family and it was boisterous and spirited and wonderful. We couldn’t ask for more. We even got to take home leftovers!
 
After a joyously social weekend, this work week begins on a busy note: provided snow in Calgary (where I’m catching a connecting flight) doesn’t get in the way, I’m on my way to Winnipeg this morning for another in the Canadian Real Estate Association series of talks.
 
I get to emcee when marketing gurus Terry O’Reilly (CBC podcast Under the Influence) and Michele Romanow (CBC’s Dragon’s Den and youngest-ever “dragon” in the show franchise) take to the stage to share their wisdom with realtors. It’s always inspiring and I’m going to be so sorry when this series wraps up next month in Halifax!
 
This is my dream moving into the future: to keep doing what I do – be the glue that holds an event together, the lubricant that lets all of the pieces slide into and out of place again and the person who provides just the right levity at the right time, solemnity when the occasion demands it and never (as I just learned recently) commenting on the hopes of a local team. Do you think I’ll be talking about the Blue Bombers tonight? No, indeed I will not! I learned my lesson in Regina, thanks.
 
My problem is in getting myself representation. I have/had an agent in Toronto who takes care of (blessedly) repeat bookings like the one I have annually with the Canada Awards for Excellence, which is coming up next month. But what I need is someone or some company that will represent me for national work. The problem? I don’t know how to pitch myself. That may come as a surprise to you, but it’s true.
 
Terry kindly gave me the name of a firm in Vancouver that had approached him and he suggested I get in touch. But what do I say? That I love to emcee (I’m pretty good at it, I’m told) and that I’ve been fortunate enough to do it for 30 years in Toronto and that you’ll just have to trust that I can do it for your event, too? Or that I have a keynote speech that I love to give which has dozens of accompanying pictures and video, but that I don’t have an actual video of my keynote speech?
 
You see, Rob was going to record the one I did in Kelowna last spring, but when all hell broke loose with the missing iPad, those plans fell apart. And then, at the last minute when I had the chance to deliver it to the CREA folks at their gathering in Ottawa in April, no one was running tape from the booth. And then there’s this question: how do I convey to companies and event planners that my speech is not a downer; that it’s hopefully one of inspiration and proof that there’s life after loss? And just what company wants that? 
 
I mean, if Oprah was coming to town and wanted an opening act, SURE, my message would be on target, but it’s not like that’s going to happen – like the skies are going to open up and Oprah Freaking Winfrey is going to say, “Hey, Erin, I hear you have a pretty good message and a book coming out in February. Why don’t you come and talk at one of my gatherings some time?” Ha ha ha ha. I amuse myself. Putting my hopes and dreams down in writing?!?
 
Then I remember that quote from Jane Fonda that I shared with you a while back. That it’s never too late to become the person that you were meant to be. And I remember that I would be some kind of hypocrite if I just put inspirational quotes out there and didn’t follow them myself.
 
So, what to do? 
 
I’ll meditate on it. Maybe while I’m in the air today. Flying to do something I really want to do and cherishing every moment. Back with you here tomorrow with a review of the smash hit A Star is Born. Never was a title more appropriate for a film.
 

There are many things in this life – this rich, varied, glorious and painful life – that I am thankful for this weekend and always. But if you’re like me, chief among those things are people. Those who love us. Those who support us. Those who understand, tolerate, entertain and encourage us. Those who make our lives better simply by being there, either in person or in spirit.
 
Take this relationship we have, you and I. I would guess that I’ve met perhaps five percent of the people who come by to share this journal and to comment on Facebook or via email with your own perspectives on things I bring up. You share thoughts that make me see things from a different angle, that show to me that we’re so very much the same, many of us, and that serve to humble me with the honesty of your own experiences.
 
I’m grateful that you are there. And even though we haven’t really met, so many of us, there’s this attachment I feel. You’ve been there when I needed it most and even if you never wrote or reached out (and that’s okay, too!) I’ve always felt your quiet support. Maybe I’m delusional. But I choose to believe it’s there, even if I can’t always see it. I guess that’s what “faith” is all about, too, right?
 
This week in my journals I’ve been leaning on some experiences with family and it’s reminded me of the importance of being around the people who know you best. It can take decades to get past the bad feelings that can exist in family dynamics, but perspective and experience can show you that there are ways you could have handled yourself better, and that it’s never too late to make a fresh start. I think that’s happening among my siblings. Never too late.
 
Finally, I’m grateful in this new life of ours, where we’re just a video call away from the sweet boy who holds all of the strings of our hearts, that we are still able to hold and love two little children. Our second cousins, Regan who – like Colin – is about to turn four and her little brother Owen who just turned two, will be at a boisterous Thanksgiving table this weekend. Their mom is Lauren’s “big sister” (or so she wished) Karen; Karen and Joe live near Victoria and we’ll be at the home of Karen’s folks, my aunt and uncle, for what I’m sure will be a lovely dinner.
 
Last weekend here near Victoria, my dad was with Karen’s dad, who is 19 years his junior. We got a couple of generations in one shot here – Dad (left), Vern and little Owen. Those Davis jowls are right there in the DNA, you can see that. And what a lovely memory to behold!
 

 
I wish you time with family and, if that is not possible, a heart filled with memories that make you thankful, too. For many of us, a chair will sit empty and we’ll say a silent prayer of gratitude for the years of joy we shared. 
 
There’s always so much for which to be thankful, and we are. We truly are.
 
Have a lovely weekend and I’ll be back here with you on Tuesday. ‘Cause guess what? We’re “wheels up” again!
 

I thought I’d take a turn today with a bit of a laugh: something that happened that I was telling my sister about and she was doubled over in laughter. So I figured I should share it with you – and add that I’m glad I can laugh at it now, too!
 
A few weeks back, while Rob was busy with errands and getting set for a big Rotary weekend at the Saanich Fall Fair, I took advantage of a few solitary hours and went for a massage at a hotel in nearby Sidney By the Sea. I got on Sally’s table and she proceded to try to get into the tight, taut, tense muscles in my shoulders and back. (She should have brought a Dremel; for someone who’s stepped away from the daily stress of a highwire live radio act, I sure am tense a lot.)
 
As Sally worked and I grimaced, I started to feel this…pressure. And it wasn’t in my back, but more my, um, backside. Uh-oh. 
 
I thought back to what I’d had before I went in: black coffee, cereal with almond milk – no lactose – and wondered why the sudden urge to “sparkle” (as we used to call it when Lauren was a kid) had descended upon me.
 
As she urged me to “let her in” and tried hard to pry her fingertips under my shoulder blades (boy, that was fun), I just kept getting tenser and tenser. Surely, Sally thought I was a hopeless case, but nonetheless, she persisted.
 
Then it occurred to me: the cereal I occasional eat, Love Grown, is made of…wait for it…beans. Yes, it’s fruit- or chocolate-flavoured and I love it for its high fibre, but I’d completely forgotten its unusual main ingredient.
 

 
As what was supposed to be a therapeutic but also relaxing massage continued, I just grew more and more tense. Yes, it’s as natural as almost anything we do and Sally being a yoga teacher, she – more than almost anyone – would understand. But still…I wasn’t going to let that happen. Not if I could help it!
 
Mercifully, the story has something of a happy ending. The breaking point came when Sally just happened to be juggling river rocks to get the hot and cold ones just where they’d do the most good on my body. And sure enough, a little “pup-pup” sound escaped from me. But thankfully, it was identical to the noise the stones made. My toot was moot and she was none the wiser!
 
The moral: don’t eat beans – even in a cereal – before a massage. (That goes for yoga, too.) Yeesh.
 
Enjoy your Thursday and I’ll be back with a thankfulness journal tomorrow. I hope you’ll join me and that you had a laugh today. We have to, right?