Erin's Journals

Just a thought… What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, hope for the future. [Agnes M. Pahro]

Oh, my friends, I have my fingers crossed today. Last week on our way home from a few errands with Colin, we passed by (safely and at a snail’s pace) a glorious house in our neighbourhood that has gone above and beyond in decorations this year.

I have for you a video of his reaction – our short Q & A – that I’m hoping YouTube will allow to stay up, despite a very clear verse of THE most appropriate non-Christmas song in the background, which just happened to be playing on our radio at that moment. (They’re rightfully tight about copyright).

If it’s not there, I apologize. But it really is worth the watch. This six-year-old boy’s response is everything – I promise. And if you do take the time to view it, come back to the journal to read about a special initiative being planned worldwide for one week tonight.

Have you noticed that people just seem to be going a little more over-the-top with decorations this year? For us, it means putting anything at all out in front of our house; we’ve either been that house with no lights (the first two years we were here) or away for the winter, as we were the next two.

But in 2020, as we all view a vaccine as the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel (with many more precautions to be taken, of course, until we can all breathe easily and even consider taking off our masks), the perfect analogy is those neighbours, stores and communities that are brightening our lives in any way that they can. Bless them all.

For every event that was a part of our holiday traditions that have been cancelled – the markets, the parades, the celebrations together – there has been a quiet call to add cheer in our own ways. One week tonight, on Christmas Eve at 6 o’clock, many thousands of Canadians are going to go out on their balconies or front steps and ring bells to help Santa guide his sleigh and to honour those who have kept us safe and healthy in the most challenging of years. From Blog.TO:

Etobicoke resident Craig Power shared the idea in the South Etobicoke Community Group Facebook page.

“On Christmas Eve at 6pm everyone will come outside onto their doorsteps and ring a bell for 2 minutes to spread the Christmas spirit and to help Santa fly his sleigh. After this awful year, it would be an amazing memory for the kids and communities,” he posted.

The Blog.TO story continues:

The idea appears to have originated in England, with a Facebook group called Worldwide Christmas Eve Jingle 2020 dedicated to the event. The group suggests the idea stated in Harrogate, a town in North Yorkshire, England.

“What started as a little idea for the Harrogate Community is starting to spread so thought a group would be a good idea for all communities all over the world to join in,” the Facebook page description reads.

The group encourages people around the world to go outside and ring a bell for two minutes at 6 p.m. on Christmas Eve.

It also suggests an added option of singing carols after the jingle.

“It will create a wave of bells across the world,” the page description continues. “After a tough year it would be an amazing memory for the kids and communities. End 2020 with a bit of Magic, hope and togetherness!”

We’ll be doing just that, one week tonight. I’ll have tears in my eyes, remembering those 24 years of Christmas Eve at Erin’s shows that always began with a welcome and then Chris Rea’s “Driving Home for Christmas.” In fact, as I write this, I think I’ll make sure it’s playing when we’re outside at 6 pm our time.

We’ll leave our dinner on the table and we’ll take the time remember all of those who are working on Christmas Eve (as we always have) but also the women and men who gave so much to make sure that we were safe and healthy, fed and cared for in this impossibly difficult year.

We’ll think of the fear that has swept through our country – and our planet – like some Biblical plague, and for a moment, just be grateful for our homes, our health, our families. For the gifts under the tree (and the stalwart men and women who made sure they got to our doors or mailboxes) but even more importantly, for the love that we got to share, the connections that we made by plowing through tech-fear barriers and the longing that we feel to hug and hold those that we miss so very much this year.

I’ll be back with you here on Monday – a chat with Mike Cooper on what will be Winter Solstice.

Just a thought… Don’t be ashamed to weep; ’tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without water. But there must be sunlight also. A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us. [Brian Jacques]

We’ve all heard the saying that it’s better to give than to receive. This year I’m feeling it 100%, although I did receive something the other day that brought me to tears. Right gift, right time. No presents under our tree; we’re giving Rosie a little more freedom and she might find them a little too enticing!

I was so excited on Friday when Rob dropped my sister Leslie’s parcel into the mail bound for Kelowna. I can’t tell you here what’s in it, but it was an idea I came up with, we ordered the elements to make it happen, put the whole thing together and sent it off. I’ll share details in the new year!

Anyway, just planning and pulling that off made my Christmas. Of course, there will be gifts for others that excite me at the thought of them being opened, but this one meant everything because it shows her how much I believe in her. She and my other two sisters have been so amazing at keeping my dad as content as he can be, and his affairs in order, as he lives in constant isolation (along with the other residents, mind you) in a seniors’ home in Kelowna.

On Thursday of last week I was having one of those days. I think it was the after effects of having done a 90 minute live interview (!) on Instagram the night before with girltalkempowerment.com CEO and founder Katie Zeppieri.  The topics were varied but, of course, a big part of it was my book and its contents. I find I’m able to tell the story of our daughter’s death and its toll on us quite capably in the moment; it’s the hours or days after that end up reverberating through me.

Later Thursday, Rob and I returned from some errands and there was a little cloth bag at our door. Inside: a glittering hummingbird ornament. As I unwrapped it, I started to cry. My friend Nancy and her dear husband Charles had done this for us and, although she apologized later for my tears, she needn’t have; I was looking for a reason to let those emotions out. And I did. Hey – it has to happen, right? Water those flowers. Grow new memories.

Another wonderful gift of this season came from my dad. It wasn’t to me, but through me, which meant even more, as it was another of those presents that show someone believes in you. Every year at this time, Dad writes cheques to two charities. One is always Salvation Army (which we also heartily support) and this year I asked if he’d consider the community centre in Sidney for which we deliver meals each week.

The program began when COVID isolation kicked in; Rob and I learned of it from a fellow Rotary club member, thought, why not? and volunteered. Dad said yes without reservations. Last week I was given a hand-written thank-you card to send on to him, and it’s now in the mail. His generosity, and that of so many, is helping to keep the hot and frozen meals coming to those who aren’t able to risk going out to shop. What was meant to be a limited-time program has been extended indefinitely and we’re grateful to everyone who is helping to make this possible.

And then we come to a gift for you. In 2005, I partnered with Cori Ashley and her husband Ed Franks, an award-winning team of composers/performers who assembled a wellness program for your ears (but mostly your soul), called Prelude To The Calm. Stress relief in five minutes or less (because who has the time or energy?).

Since Cori and I last connected, she has created – along with numerous experts in different fields – a series of empowerment programs for people of all ages. It’s simple and fun and hugely helpful for people homeschooling, working, creating or just trying to figure out how best to navigate learning and succeeding in their own lives at any age. She’s called it Supermeprograms.com and, now that she and I have joined forces again, I’m hoping to get involved further in the whole adventure in 2021.

But for now, for you: they’ve uploaded our five minute fun, inspiring and calming journeys – set to the most gorgeous music – for free, for you to enjoy and to pass on to those you love. Not all gifts come with bows (unless they’re of the violin type) – and I promise you’ll love it. No strings (again, see the violin reference!), just relaxation and time for reflection and peace. Heavenly peace.

To receive this gift of stress relief, go to supermeprograms.com and look for my face up top.

I’m going to share only uplifting thoughts and journals from here to the end of the year and thank you for being such a good reason to look for the positive, always.

Hugs, E.

Just a thought… You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming. [Pablo Neruda]

Two weeks today is Christmas Eve. I’m tempted to write a poem, but it’s all been said and, honestly, there isn’t much to add to the sentiments of this season. Hearts are tearing across the world and in our homes and communities, as the hopes of being together at Christmas are dashed – either for this year or, for some, forever.

It’s been a relentlessly difficult year. And so we look for hope in a vaccine, pray for compassion in others that they’ll see the light and wear their masks, obey calls for caution and distancing, and do what’s needed to help all of us get through this toughest of all Christmases.

My own aunt and uncle decided yesterday that they just can’t, in good conscience or health, fly to Calgary to be with their precious children and grandchildren for the holidays. It’s devastating for them all, I know. We’ll do what we can to help them through it…whatever that may be. But Rob and I have had heartbreak at this time of year; we know how it feels.

When we endured our hardest holiday season in 2015, we ran away – literally. Rob and I hopped a plane, rented a place for two weeks, binge-watched the Cumberbatch Sherlock series, and barbecued on December 25th after hiding out for the day in a spa.

We started each day with a laugh by playing the silly Ellen DeGeneres app Heads Up! with each other, acting out and trying to get the other person to guess who or what we were. It was incredibly strange yet relieving to feel the rush of laughter and the soothing endorphins of happiness, even for a few minutes. I highly recommend it for you, if you feel you can do it.

This will be a Christmas like no other. The unfamiliar far-off light that shines in our lives right now comes from the hope of a vaccine that will be arriving on Canadian shores at a blessedly rapid pace. I will place my unwavering faith in the hands of those whose job it has always been to follow the science and lead us out of the darkness.

Of course, not all will: a doctor with Don Lemon on CNN last night outlined just how widely and quickly the hoaxes surrounding information about the vaccine (much of it from Russia) are appearing. There are Facebook pages devoted to the COVID vaccine and they’re rife with lies. So, please be vigilant and don’t be a spreader, in more ways than one.

One troll on Twitter the other night told me (when I gave an ‘amen’ to a Jann Arden tweet about the vaccine in the UK), “You liberals go first.” Um, okay. (Question: does aluminum foil work as well for headgear as tin foil?)

I know, I know, I shouldn’t have responded…but I said, with wide-eyed sarcasm, “Thank you, but I’ll wait my turn: after front line and health care workers and seniors have gotten theirs.”

He responded, “Your government luvs you.” (I hope they do, the money I’ve given them over the years! You’d think I might get a valentine once in a while, but a life-saving vaccine will have to do, I guess.)

See, there’s the rub: so many have been lied to and deceived by government leaders year after year (and this guy was from Vegas) that they refuse to believe a vaccine is anything but some devious plan to track us (go ahead; I’m boring) or poison us. They listen to online crackpots who throw out insanity, only to be lapped up by people who are vulnerable to such misinformation.

Fake videos of hoax doctors who supposedly have dark inside facts about the virus, the people behind it – even Bill Gates, for God’s sake. The man who almost single-handedly eradicated polio worldwide in the late 20th century (only to see a resurgence among the anti-vaxxers whom I can only imagine like the idea of an iron lung). Just last week someone on my own Facebook page said it’s no worse than the flu. Yes, that tired trope is still going around, my friend.

Oh, this turned dark. I’m sorry. I’m finding so many reasons to be grateful this year and I’ll share them with you here in the days to come, as part of a podcast on which I’ll be a guest with my friends Sheila and Anita next week, called “Moms Sipping Sangria.” I’m also planning a recorded chat with Mike Cooper as we approach Christmas; I’ll share that check-in with you.

Sigh. How I wish I was doing a Christmas Eve show with you this year. Maybe I’ll shoot a little video message. But it won’t be the same as hosting that family get-together – something that was our shared tradition for 24 wonderful years. You know, of course, that CHFI will have special programming just for the evening (and the following day, too) and it’ll include some of our shared creations, so I’ll be with you in spirit and even a little bit of audio here and there. I’m so lucky still to be a part of people’s holiday celebrations, even in the smallest of ways.

And speaking of holidays, if you light the first candle of the menorah tonight, I wish you and yours a Happy Hanukkah. Again, we’re thinking of families separated by the virus at this special time of year; you’re in my heart.

We just have to hold on. Get through this one December so that we can get people safe and vaccinated and head into some semblance of normalcy before the next holiday season rolls around. We can do this.

I’ll be back with a new journal on Monday and I am sending you a huge hug.

Just a thought… Nothing is ever really lost to us, as long as we remember it. [Lucy Maud Montgomery]

Isn’t it funny the things that spark conversations? Yesterday on Twitter, Consumers Distributing was trending after someone posted this:

When I saw my friend Lisa Brandt, who blogs at voiceoflisabrandt.com and whom you can follow on Twitter @lisambrandt, had tweeted on it, I thought we should have a chat!

We did, and I invite you to listen in. Please click here, if you’d like to hear our conversation.

It felt like a hug on a cloudy Sunday to connect with my dear pal, with whom I shared radio studios at CHFI, and who did mornings for years at 680 News in Toronto, as well as in London and many other spots on the radio map. Hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

Talk to you here on Thursday.

Just a thought… Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. [Rumi]

When this year began – you know, about 102 years ago – I took on a big task: teaching myself to edit audio. I won’t go into how it’s done, although my friend Lisa did in a blog that I found fascinating and you might, too.

Learning a new skill and one that I’ve put to use literally hundreds of times (especially with that 800-page course I recorded, edited and sent, all within a month) freed Rob up to do other production work, to play hockey or keep the house running.

Then, coincident with awareness of the word “COVID,” Zoom came into my consciousness. I was mildly interested, but thought, I’ll probably never use it…we FaceTime with our family in Ottawa and that’s good enough. But it entered our home when we started using it with sister meetings coordinated by the techie of us four girls, my oldest sibling Heather. Soon the sisterhood of the travelling rants was trying other platforms as we all sought the best signals, and most user-friendly apps etc..

As work began to ramp up, thanks to two podcasts that came to be in 2020 (which we totally didn’t see coming; I thought this year would be all about in-person keynote speeches – ha!), we moved further into the on-camera virtual meeting world. And here’s where my problem lies. We used to have phone calls. I could stay in my jammie-jams all day long if I wanted (and I often did) and get the job done. As far as anyone on the other end knew, I was highly inspired and sharply attired, baby!

Weeks of isolation turned into months, and we stayed busy. If I wasn’t recording and editing auditions for the two voice sites to which I subscribe, I was pecking away at this poor worn-out computer or prepping for upcoming interviews of which I was either host or subject. And then, for some inexplicable reason, we started to go Zoom in meetings.

What were previously done over the phone as conference calls were now on screen. And why is this a point of contention?

Well, because no one but my family and complete strangers in the grocery store are going to see me with lousy hair or red break-outs on my face (thanks, menopause). So now a simple meeting turns into getting dressed, doing my hair and putting on makeup (which my skin is not fond of these days).

It sounds like a stupid thing to be bugged by – especially when there are real problems in the world and right outside my door – but more than once I’ve gotten a call where someone has wanted to FaceTime and I’ve just not answered it. Honey, you have to give me notice if you want to see this face, unless you’re family (and I’m not even comfortable looking au naturel around my own sisters).

I can hear the words “vanity” or “insanity” ringing in my head right now and some people will judge me that way. But if you’ve been slammed in the newspaper for your hockey player-like looks (does anyone remember Gary Dunford or Spike Gallagher?) it leaves a mark deeper than one from a high-sticking.

I’ve had surgery to reduce my prominent Davis chin. I’ve worked hard and gone through plenty of pain to keep my face from showing the decades of middle-of-the-night alarms. If I’m lucky enough to get to my eighties, I’ll be that woman with the vertical colour lines bleeding from my non-existent lips (they’re barely there now – I’m all mouth, but no lips). It’s who I am and I come by it honestly: my mother almost had to sit down when she saw how many women would go to the grocery store with curlers in their hair back in the 70s. She wasn’t raised that way, and neither was I.

Don’t get me wrong. I admire women who can be themselves, not a drop of makeup and comfortable in their skin. It so happens that I’m not one of them and that’s not going to change. I did strike a compromise a few weeks ago: I did a video meeting with a blazer worn over my black jersey nightgown, adding a wig and a necklace. And it worked!

So I come back to my first question: can’t we just have meetings over the phone? I mean, just because the technology exists, do we have to use it? In 2020 they’d be giving the Six Million Dollar Man a penis extension.

If you could see me, I’d be blushing. But you won’t, so please just take my word for it and I’ll be back with a new journal Monday.