Erin's Journals

Just a thought… Life is more meaningful when our goal is fulfillment rather than gratification. [Author unknown]

I can’t even express to you how full, how VERY full, Rob’s and my hearts are today. (See? They’re so full I’ve used that word three times in the first two sentences!)

To think of everything traumatic that has happened in the past four-and-a-half years – from losing Lauren, to saying good-bye to my favourite radio partner, then leaving almost every person we knew and loved in Ontario and starting a new life outside of my beloved medium of radio – I am awestruck at just how much meaning and fulfillment have come our way. And at no time have they been more evident than in the past five days.

I hadn’t planned to write a book; on the day that I said good-bye to our radio audience at Casa Loma, had that wonderful HarperCollins exec not been in the audience of CityLine, and had she not written and suggested it, I most certainly wouldn’t have laid out our lives for a litany of publishers to reject.

But as I stood before a full ballroom yesterday at the Marriott in Muskoka, for just a moment there was a beam of light that shone down on me from above and told me I was where I was meant to be at that moment. Just as a medium we met up with after Lauren died told us she was saying, “Mom, it’s not about you anymore – it’s about them.”

It’s about them. The mothers who cried in my arms on Thursday night in Arthur, Ontario after my keynote address “Reclaiming Joy.” It was a fundraiser for #GetintouchforHutch – started by a bereaved mom whose son died by suicide – and so far these good people have raised $300,000 (in a decade) to help others who suffer, and hopefully to help prevent more deaths by suicide by getting people to talk about mental health.

It’s about the families helped by The Lighthouse for Grieving Children in Oakville at a sold-out event for 300 on Wednesday night, simply by sharing the stories of survival of widows Lisa Lisson, CEO of FedEx Canada, and Melissa Gaston who, along with her children, has been helped by Lighthouse (where she met a fellow grieving parent, soon to become her husband). Such an incredible night! That’s Lisa on the left, then Melissa, and interviewer Saphia Khambalia of The Weather Network to my left. 

It’s about the patients at Markham Stouffville Hospital who came out for a mental health day Thursday and with whom I could safely share my story of depression, addiction and grief – but with hope.

It’s about the hundreds of Rotary International members (as Rob and I are) on Saturday in Muskoka who listened to the story of incredible strength, resilience and determination of Amanda Lindhout, who wrote the New York Times bestseller about her year-and-a-half as a hostage in Somalia ten years ago. (Her talk was as gripping and touching as the book, I promise you.)

And who then heard my presentation on Sunday.

And finally, it IS about us: Rob and me.

I don’t tell you about these events to shine a light on what we’ve done, but to show you just how much this whole evolution from bereaved to blessed has meant to us. To be able to take what happened with the loss of our sweet Lauren, and maybe – just maybe – to become able to offer others a little hope has been the second-greatest gift she has given us.

The first, of course, is Colin. And this week we’re on our way to Ottawa again to spend a glorious few days with our beloved boy and his beautiful baby sister and parents.

We count our blessings every day and choose to see the light instead of the darkness. And we haven’t done any of this, not one bit, alone.

Thank you for helping us to get to where we are today, to this place of hope and deepest fulfillment. I would give my life not to have experienced what brought us here, but since this is where we are, we are choosing to take in the view and be thankful.

Talk to you here on Thursday.

Just a thought… I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become. [Carl Gustav Jung]

Well hello again, Ontario! Seems as if we were just here – it’s like they could almost have left our rental car running while we hopped home and then returned.

I’m loving this fall weather, although the winds we experienced yesterday in Halton region are certain to have taken their toll on the leaves we’ll see as we head to Markham for a speech at noon and then on to Arthur for another gathering tonight.

(See the What’s Up section here for more information if you think you can join us and I’ll post pics on my public Facebook page as well as Twitter @erindavis and Instagram @erindawndavis if you care to check in.)

I realize that for the last few weeks here, this journal seems to have been me filling you in on one event after another, and if that’s your impression, I do apologize. This was always a place just to share what’s going on behind the scenes and in our lives and, of course, the fact that Rob and I are taking such a vastly different path than we expected has changed the trajectory of my writings.

Our relationship – yours and mine – never was and is never going to be about promotion or selling. It’s not that anyone has complained but I realize if people don’t want to click here and share some time a few days a week, they just won’t. Goodness knows there’s a lot to fill your day and attract your eyes and I don’t take for granted one minute that you spend here with me.

I can promise you this: in just less than two weeks, it all changes. We settle in for a gentle winter of enjoying each other’s company and just taking every day as it comes, instead of laying out clothes, planning speeches and making sure I get to the right place at the right time.

It just happens to be a bit of a tsunami of wonderful activity right now and I am truly grateful for every single bit of it.

So how are we doing, Rob and I? Great. A little sleep-deprived, thanks to a three-hour time difference and getting to bed yesterday at 3 am here, but glad that there’s no alcohol involved to mess up the body clocks further.

I’ll tell you that flying and not drinking is probably the hardest thing for me: I used to feel that there were no rules in the sky (don’t ask me why; perhaps the vacation mode that I so often associated travel with) and couple that with a feeling of melancholy that I’ve always gotten when I’m up there in a tin tube hurtling through the blue – don’t ask me why – it just seems like a recipe to order that Caesar or white wine.

When you add to that the stress of our new calling – trying to massage my message and accompanying slides for each group, always searching for the right words and new ways to convey them – the hours in the sky are a perfect place for temptation. Luckily, I’m able to keep my eye on the prize (sobriety) and just not drink. I wish it was as easy as it sounds – and to someone who has an “off” switch, I’m sure it does – but nothing worthwhile is easy, is it?

I talk about treatment and addiction in my speech, but I don’t dwell on it a lot. It falls under the “medicate if you need to, but don’t self-medicate” part of things we’ve learned. Everywhere you turn, every TV show you watch, every ad, every everything involves booze. You really don’t notice it until it’s a challenge, just as delicious dishes are everywhere when you’re trying to diet or you’re fasting, right?

I find myself noticing the smell of alcohol on people a lot more now, too. Like the guy near us on the small plane from Victoria to Vancouver Tuesday. I think people really have no idea how it oozes from their pores….

I just tell myself they must have used hand sanitizer. I remember Michelle Butterly coming into the studio one morning at CHFI and I could swear she smelled like vodka. But there was hand-sani right outside studio door. We had a good laugh about that!

Anyway, that’s where I am. Keeping up with my counselling, getting good advice from people who’ve been there, done that and don’t anymore, and being as open as I can about struggling.

It’s all about vulnerability: no one is meant to get through this alone. We don’t have to. Like grief, addiction is so isolating. It’s simply amazing – and freeing – when you are blessed to find others who share your path so you don’t ever have to walk it alone.

Have a lovely weekend. I’ll be in Rosseau for a Rotary International gathering and then off for a few days of bliss with a dear friend. I’ll talk to you here on Monday and thank you for coming by. I promise you it’ll all get back to “normal” (whatever the heck that is) soon!

Just a thought… Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole. [Roger Caras]

Ah, Election Day. I said it before and I’ll say it again – thank goodness our campaign cycle is weeks and not years like our neighbours to the south. I’ve got to say I had a sick feeling when I read online that a crowd was chanting “Lock Him Up! Lock Him Up!” at a campaign gathering on the weekend.

Shall we add a nice Canadian “u” and spell it deplourable? Because yelling about throwing someone in jail – that’s what we do when we don’t like a political rival now? Not in Canada it isn’t. Take that MAGA BS and stick it south of the border. (The chant was later changed to “vote him out.” But still….)

I’ll stick with a theme of gratitude: for the right to vote (which was bestowed upon most – but not all – Canadian women with the declaration of “personhood” just 90 years ago last Friday), the freedom of democracy, having a strong voice and hopefully returning to some form of civility after the votes are tallied tonight. I’m not so optimistic as I once was about a movement away from anger and hatred among some Canadians after today, but…we can hope.

I’m also grateful to have seen this in the weekend Globe and Mail (free for a limited time online BTW)… 

Still hanging in for the year at #10, Mourning Has Broken, I’m told, is #4 among Canadian writers for non-fiction for 2019. To say that I’m thrilled about it is an understatement. I’d give my life not to have written it, but if our story and experiences can help others, then they lend all of this some kind of positive meaning: something in which to find that precious gratitude.

Today I’ll end with a short video of a very special fur baby in our lives. On Saturday, Molly turned 15 years old and we can’t get over how much energy and life she has in her.

A Lhasa-Apso/Japanese Chin cross, I have no idea what her life expectancy is, but when you see this video, you’ll understand if we think she’s got a lot of fuel left in the tank, despite a few health problems.

Her joints and agility are like that of a much younger dog and to that I attribute her daily Leaps and Bounds chewy treat from SierraSil, a product which I joyfully and gratefully still use and endorse (you can click the link to learn more).

Molly’s “brother” Pepper lived a full life of 17-and-a-half years, but he sure didn’t move like this little girl; we sprinkled capsules (ours) over his food so he could still make the jump up to the bed, but Molly is literally leaps and bounds beyond where our sweet boy was at this age.

Interestingly, her appetite has grown over the past year (and so has her waistline) but a bit of extra weight doesn’t seem to be slowing her down at all. Of course, we do see some signs of old age: she’s losing her hearing and she sleeps a lot, mostly on our bed and often between Rob and me.

There’s a special sweet comfort that comes with falling asleep, one hand resting on a softly breathing family member. Rob might prefer it be him instead, but Molly positions herself so that she gets cuddles from both of us.

Happy 15th Birthday, Molly! 

Now, enjoy this video shot halfway through(!) a long walk last week and picked up when we returned home about 20 minutes later. Click the photo below to watch the video.

I’ll be back with you here on Thursday, writing once again from an Ontario time zone. My poor confused computer – and body clock! First stop: a big night of inspiration for The Light House for Grieving Children in Burlington, featuring a woman who personally knows tragedy and author of Resilience, FedEx Canada boss Lisa Lisson and me.

Click here for more information and maybe we’ll see you Wednesday night or at another event this trip.

Just a thought… Staying positive does not mean that things will be okay. Rather it is knowing that you will be okay no matter how things turn out. [author unknown]

I SO miss writing here every day. I’m out on walks and thinking of 17 different things to journal about, but now that I’ve curtailed my posts to two a week, it’s hard to narrow things down!

Luckily, I can post on my public Facebook page daily to share some thoughts (usually quotes that I hope will help with your day) but sometimes I just have more to get out of me – if that makes sense?

When we were with Mike Cooper at his place last week, we shot a short video where we talked about next October’s AMA Waterways river cruise.

Even if joining us (either on the boat next year or in Yorkville for a get-together on November 4) isn’t in your plans – and I get that it’s not for everyone – enjoy this fun and laughter-filled conversation. Click the photo below if you’d like to watch it.

Details on the party and the cruise are within the video and I’ll tell you that the man Gerry that we mention is a no-pressure kind of guy and he’ll be heading up the gathering. If you want to come, please email Gerry so he has some idea of numbers. Come by for a hug and hello and we’ll go from there, okay?

I shot another short video, but I’ll wait to share with you next week: Molly’s turning 15 very soon and I couldn’t resist shooting a bit of her on a walk. This dog is energy personified (perdogified?) and she amazes me every day. I think it’ll bring you some joy, especially on a Monday morning. And look, we all need that these days.

My heart has been so heavy of late with the news from south of the border and around the world, as well as the vitriol and divisiveness that has permeated our current election cycle. Trying to stay positive about anything these days is a challenge, especially when we’ve been hit by a rainy week here in the Victoria area.

Yes, I practise what I preach with meditation, yin yoga and getting together with friends on a shared path of recovery, but like everyone, I have my blue days. I’m just a little weary of it all.

I don’t know about you, but my best remedy is focussing on the day ahead and getting busy doing what I love: tonight I put on the lashes again and head out to emcee opening night of the Sidney Fine Arts Show. I will have the pleasure of interviewing a woman who has in her possession – and shares via a book and shows – exclusive Gerry Dieter photos of John and Yoko’s 1969 Bed In for Peace in Montreal. Should be fascinating!

Then tomorrow evening, I’m honoured to be taking part in a reading at Sidney LitFest – a celebration of books and authors. I love digging into life here in our new community: there’s one more event (a speech for BC retirees) next week before we head east again for a series of speeches and talks, so we’ve got a busy month ahead before shutting it all down for the winter.

Thanks for coming along for the ride and enjoy your weekend.

Just a thought… Words are free. It’s how you use them that may cost you. [KushandWizdom]

Welcome to a brand new, shortened week as we embark on the second half of October! It’s hard to believe that we’ll soon be seeing poppies and wreaths, enjoying Christmas decorations and hearing ads with bells in the background.

This year seems to be just steamrolling by, but I guess that’ll happen when you spend six weeks of your summer in a treatment centre in what was probably the most productive and meaningful period of time I have ever spent on myself.

So, did you and yours have a turkey dinner? We did – sort of! Still just hovering above our lives before we head east again – fitting in appointments, trying to stay on top of things – we accepted our friends’ offer to have “Thanksgiving lite” and ordered pizzas with a theme to fit the day! Here’s the ad from a very creative shop not far from us…

Cool, huh? Talk about thinking “out of the box” – literally – I mean, this place has a pulled pork and bacon pizza called the Notorious P.I.G.! Then there’s the P.I.G. Mac (which combines the Notorious P.I.G. with mac ‘n’ cheese). I’d pass on the latter, but I just love their creativity alone. Thankfully, their food is pretty darned good, too.

A pizza with turkey, gravy sauce on its thick crust, local veggies and a bit of stuffing in there is surprisingly good; to my taste buds, it was similar to a turkey sandwich, only warm and with a nice layer of cheese (without the herb sprig seen in the picture; perhaps they ran out). Nothing replaces a good ol’ fashioned turkey dinner with all of the traditional side dishes, but paired with that super creamy squash soup and a salad, it made for a really neat meal. 

I have to admit that Rob and I were feeling a little proud of ourselves for having our suitcases unpacked (although his is open in another bedroom awaiting next week’s trip) and three loads of laundry done before 24 hours had passed since our landing at YYJ. It’s the small victories, right?

Our suitcases, however, are showing the strain of travel. One has a severe punt in the corner; the other’s expansion zipper is broken – the pull tab broke off somewhere between here and there. We found out from WestJet that you have to report the damage within 7 days (it had happened on our way east) so we’re out of luck. Just a word to the wise.

Oh, and I also had a fairly new NAOT shoe blow out its side seams halfway through the trip. It’s irreparable. Is the universe telling me to stay put? Maybe. Molly seems pretty nonchalant about the whole travel thing; she loves staying home with our friend and just runs the house as usual. 

Our time in Collingwood, where I emceed and then wrapped up a gathering of the Ontario Association of Cemetery and Funeral Professionals with my “Reclaiming Joy” keynote speech, was beyond wonderful.

I learned from, laughed and connected with hundreds of people and, while I found myself completely spent by the time we pointed our rental car towards YYZ, it made me realize that the path Rob and I are on of sharing our message of hope and how to deal with grief is the right one.

In just over a week we board another plane to Ontario for a number of charity events (and a few paid ones to make the trip fiscally possible) from Rotary International to Markham Stouffville Hospital, from The Lighthouse for Grieving Children to Heart House Hospice – with more stops in between – and I hope that if you’re interested, you’ll be able to attend one of the open talks. (See the What’s Up section on my home page if you want more information on how we can meet up.)

So here we are, you and I, ready to go for another week. What will it bring? I can guarantee you one thing: I will resume my promise not to comment on anything political in social media.

On Friday, I cavalierly commented on a post by a favourite cousin pertaining to a situation in her home province. When my intentions were misconstrued, I simmered and stewed all weekend fearing she was angry with me. Rob and I don’t have much family and I don’t want to alienate those people we love and who love us, so it hurt my heart to think that we had, however inadvertently. 

So the lesson to me as we get closer to next week’s election is just to keep my mouth shut (and fingers still) and remember, to paraphrase the words of the “Serenity Prayer,” to accept the things I cannot change, have the courage to change the things I can and seek the wisdom to know the difference.

I’ll make my voice heard by voting, as should we all. But my gosh, aren’t we lucky our federal campaigns run for weeks and not years? How much can anyone take?

Have a gentle few days and I’ll return here on Thursday with a short video Mike Cooper and I shot. It’s filled with laughter – something I think we can all use.