A tribute to Uncle Harvey or {a thread in the tapestry}



A photo I took of Uncle Harvey in July 2010. 
Doesn't it make you shake your head and smile?


As I considered how I could pay tribute to Uncle Harvey, thoughts of inadequacy entered my mind.  Who am I to speak of him?  Who am I to tell the world who he was? There are so many others who knew his heart better than I, many who had walked with him for decades, many who knew him intimately. Many whose words carry much more weight than my own feeble attempts.

But, as I thought about it, the idea of Uncle Harvey's memory being likened to a richly woven, multicoloured tapestry came to mind.  Each of our stories and memories of him weave a small thread through the thick fabric.  For some, their intimate knowledge of Uncle Harvey gives them the ability to weave their colour of thread frequently and create large, bold splashes of colour across the tapestry. Others, like myself, use a pale thread and weave with small, delicate stitches, in a corner of the fabric. However, each of our stories help to bring clarity and sharpness to our memory of who Uncle Harvey was. Each of our memories add to the depth and richness of who we all remember him to be.  Today, I write this as a humble offering, a small contribution to the vast pool of memories that help us all to remember and celebrate the man we loved.

Uncle Harvey will be remembered for his humour and sharp wit.  By talking with others over the past few days, and reading comments on Facebook, it is clear to see that he was a man who joked around with everyone and loved telling stories.  I don't think there has been a gathering in the last 30 years that I have escaped his teasing in some way. Whether his was trying to cut in front of me in the food line, or delivering a constant stream of one-liners to anyone within earshot, his wit never went unnoticed.  Humour was his constant companion.

But behind that smile, I saw a glimpse of a man driven by something other than the next good laugh.  In the summer of 2009, we had the privilege of building a house for Ash and Jerica.  Being interested in the project, Uncle Harvey made regular appearances at the house during construction.  We had some great conversations sitting on the front porch, especially Jeff and Uncle Harvey. In addition to exchanging jokes, we began to exchange stories from our lives.  I saw a man who was honest and brave in the face of health challenges, a husband who was deeply committed to his wife, a father who burst with pride when speaking of his son, a father who was eager to support his son and his beautiful bride as they started a new life together.  He was a man who kept his word.  He was a man who communicated his love through actions.  He phoned grandma and grandpa, or visited them, daily.  His priorities were reflected by his actions.

As we grieve over his death, we acknowledge our loss, but are strengthened as we focus on all that he has gained....legs that are strong, a body whole and youthful, the company of angels, and a whole new audience for his stories.

Goodbye, Uncle Harvey.  You will be missed.

Thought for the day

"There’s only one address anyone lives at and it’s always a duplex: Joy and pain always co-habit every season of life. Accept them both and keep company with the joy while the pain does its necessary renovations."  Ann Voskamp

A surprising gift....

Sometimes the greatest gifts are the ones that come as a surprise.

When I went to Australia this past February, I expected much of what happened.  I was fully prepared to be ecstatic to see my brother, my own flesh and blood.  My dear bro, who has played a unique roll in shaping my life. It came as no surprise that our conversation flowed freely, and that time and distance had done nothing to diminish our friendship. I was not surprised that I fell in love with Bec just a little more - her softness, her openness, her generosity, her complete acceptance and celebration of who I am - though they are incredible gifts to me, and I receive them humbly - they did not completely shock me.  This is who I've come to know her to be.  And my beautiful niece and adorable nephews...well, I fully expected them to be gorgeous, and they did not disappoint (after all, they have great genetics - heehee).  In many all ways, my Australian family met and exceeded my expectations.  We were loved on from the moment we were greeted at the airport to the tearful goodbyes exchanged at the same airport.  I went to bed each night, satisfied and saying "that was a really good day".  And I meant it.

What I didn't expect was my sister-in-law.

I mean, she was my travel partner, so of course I expected her presence!!

However.

I was unprepared for the way I could laugh with her, the way she brought out my "silly", the way she could draw out the girl I was before my life was driven by responsibilities. I have a tonne of memories of immature fun things we did.....singing Oh Canada at the top of our lungs in a marble steam room (despite the group of people listening outside), looking very silly while sitting in water-filled wine barrels for over an hour at the most amazing hot spring/spa on planet earth, snickering while having our bags searched by security at the Sydney airport (and almost having one of our packages confiscated!), to name just a few. And man, did we giggle.  Like grade two schoolgirls. The laughter was like that first breath of fresh spring air in March. So refreshing.  So welcome. So intoxicating.

Though my time in Australia was highlighted by incredible fun, it was peppered liberally with daily eye-opening, challenging, humbling, growth-inspiring conversation.  And that is not overstating my experience. Perhaps it was the removal of all responsibility from my life for those two weeks, my ability to simply focus on myself, without the distraction of daily family living.  Perhaps it was being able to remove myself from my life, in order to see it more clearly.  Whatever it was, my time in Australia gave me opportunity to look closer at the parts of me I can easily ignore at home.  As I processed, my sister-in-law became my sounding board (she had no choice - we were together 24 hours a day).  She listened.  She encouraged me.  She bravely challenged my misconceptions.  She inspired me to be true to myself.  Late into the night, I poured out whatever was on my heart, and she received it with grace and compassion.

It sounds dramatic.  And it was.

Why am I saying this now, 10 months later?

This morning felt a bit like mini-Australia vacation.

She calls me at 8:45 this morning. 

"So, are you ready to go?" (she's referring to having breakfast at the teahouse, to celebrate that I am now unemployed, as the last of our pigs left the barn yesterday).

"I don't know,"  I say, insipidly.  "I'm still wearing PJ's"

"Me too. Let's go in our PJ's", comes the cheerful, undaunted reply.

After mild protest, I consent.

Five minutes later, I am sitting in her van, wearing pj's that were pulled out of the dryer minutes earlier. My teeth have been brushed. My hair was not so fortunate.

As we are seated at the table, I feel some of my layers peeling off. I stop caring who sees me in my pj's and start laughing. We begin talking and sharing our hearts. The atmosphere, the formula. It feels reminiscent of Australia.  Mix one part silly with two parts honesty.

I like it.  I feel content.  Relaxed.  Enjoying the gift that sits across the table from me.

I am not prepared for what comes next.

I hear her say something similar to the following....

"Next time, we should go to McDonald's in our wedding dresses".

Worth celebrating

Today marks my mom and dad's 43rd wedding anniversary. Incredible, isn't it? In a society ravaged by the devastating effects of divorce, this is something worth celebrating.  It is a beacon of light and hope to young people who have long lost their belief in lifelong love.  It assures couples in the middle of a conflict that there is a way through to the other side.  It inspires me to be a mate worth sticking with for the long haul.  Happy anniversary, mom and dad!

School - Is it for kids or parents?



First day of school, 2010

 Recently, a survey went out, from my children's school, to all the parents of children who are signed up for kindergarten next year.  The survey offered two options:  children attend school for half a day, each day (the traditional/current method), or they attend every other day for a full day.  Based on the response received, the school would change/not change the current system.

I was surprised and saddened by the results.

The response was overwhelmingly in favour of change.

In talking to many different people (parents in our school, parents of children attending other schools, staff, etc),  a few pros to the new system repeatedly emerge:

1)  It will save the school division money because there will be no noon bus run.
2)  Teachers will have more time to teach because they will not need to do morning exercises every day with the same students.

and, without fail, the number one seller is:

3)  It's so convenient for us as parents.  You know, it cuts down on our daycare costs.  We can be gone all day, instead of being home at the noon hour.  It opens up more opportunity and freedom for both mom and dad to work or play. That sort of thing.  Right on.  Freedom one year sooner.  How lucky!  Woohoo!

I am saddened because these three reasons, in my opinion, do not address the needs of the ones for whom the school system was created - the children!  The division benefits, the teachers benefit, the parents benefit.  In my experience, that's where the conversation ends.  Sure, we can always justify our arguments, showing ways that the students are better off in the new system.  We humans are great at gathering evidence to support the way we think, aren't we? I sure am. But, in all honesty, are we really considering what is in the best interest of the kids?  Really?  Or, in our more vulnerable moments, would we consider the suggestion that our choices may be motivated by self interest and convenience at times?  That it would help make our kids fit better into our life, either as it now is, or as we would like it to be.

Sometimes kids are so inconvenient.

I don't know who voted for the change in our school, as I don't even know more than one or two students who are going to kindergarten next year (and one of those is mine:)). Without knowing, however, I believe they are moms and dads who love their kids and are making a tonne of decisions for their family regularly, just like me.  I acknowledge that some families have a unique situation, and parents have different considerations when making decisions.  I recognize that some situations are more delicate, and parents are required to make hard choices - choices that they don't want to make.  I get that.  And my heart goes out to these families.  I am not seeking to place more guilt on their weary shoulders.

I am simply asking the questions that I have not heard being asked.  And challenging us to think for ourselves, and not allow ourselves to be swept away by the current school of thought (pun intended).

I've not heard anyone consider if being inside a school for 7.5 hours on a warm spring day is the best thing for a typical, energetic 5-year-old boy.  I've not heard anyone challenge the idea that an extra half hour of "learning time" per day is the best thing for our kids.  I have not heard the question "Do our kids NEED to learn more?"  I learned my abc's in kindergarten and started reading simple words in Grade 1.  My kids knew their abc's by the time they reach their fourth birthday, and were reading three months into kindergarten and chapter books by the end of grade one.  Why are we pushing our kids to achieve more?  Let's not forget that they are five little, short years old.

And at the forefront of my mind, I am really curious to know....what's really propelling this change?

Quotable Quote

"Besides the noble art of getting things done, there is the noble art of leaving things undone.  The wisdom of life consists in the elimination of non-essentials.” Lin Yutang, 1895

Finally....A new beginning

"So, what are you going to write about?"  It's a question I get asked when I tell people I'm contemplating the idea of starting a blog.  It's an idea that's been percolating in the deep recesses of my mind for a few years already (with much nurturing from my Australia-dwelling brother). So why haven't I started already? 

Well, for starters, I have a deeply-established relationship with procrastination - we go way back.  I have, more than once, considered putting it at the top of my list of "things to improve about me", but I keep putting it off.  (For the record, I don't actually have a list of things to improve about me, but I imagine procrastination would be on that list, along with the usual suspects - "I will not micro-manage my kids when they form unevenly sized cookies when helping me bake", or "I will shave my legs at least once a month in winter").

But, although procrastination has kept me from starting, I also think that, I  too, am stumped by the question I get asked from others - what AM I going to write about?  I mean, of what interest is my little life to others?  How on earth could recording the day-to-day happenings in my world inspire others?  I realize, however, that even while I've been thinking about what I would write about if I started blogging, I'm more aware of the beauty in my world.  I see the humour in my life a little more (and with three kids, there's plenty of material to work with!),  and I see many of the small, simple, even mundane, details of my life in a different way.  I've got blessings galore, I tell ya!  Perhaps my increased awareness of  my world is reason enough to blog.

Of course, with family and friends living in different ends of the globe, a blog also helps us all stay connected.  So, without further ado, thanks for joining me on my journey as I fulfill my 2010 New Year's resolution (no, that date is not a typo - blogging was on my list of things to begin in 2010. I told you - me and procrastination, we're old friends.....)